"Dad, I will come on the snowcave campout, but I'm just going to sleep in the car." insisted Zach.
"No, the whole purpose is to teach you survival skills and you are going to dig a snow cave and spend the night in it – and I don't want to argue about it anymore!" I said for the fourteenth time.
I had just finished reading an article about a team of Polish mountaineers who climbs Himalayan peaks in the WINTER just to prove that they are tougher than everyone else, and I was motivated to have my own encounter with extreme adventure by digging my first snow cave. I figured that if those Polish mountaineers can spend 2 days in a tent on top of an icy ledge in 40 degree below weather waiting for the storm to break, I can surely survive on night in a snow cave at Mt. Baker.
Making the cave was relatively easy – if you don't mind a little hard work and you are not claustrophobic. After a few hours I was soaked with sweat on the inside and damp on the outside from lying in the snow, but Alex and I had a comfortable cave – a tunnel that led to two sleeping chambers lined with a tarp.
We ate and went sledding and then bedded down in the cave while we were still warm from the exercise. Alex and I talked a bit and he was soon asleep in his warm mummy bag. Since we had several scouts who did not have sleeping bags I had loaned the other ones out, keeping just my regular cloth bag for myself – after all if those Polish mountaineers could survive 4 weeks in sub zero temperatures I was sure I cold make it through one night.
Well, at first I was quite comfortable in our snug snow cave. We were out of the wind and my body was warm. As I snuggled down deeper into my sleeping bag, it did occur to me that I probably should have changed into drier clothes. However, at that point I did not want to go back out into the cold and I did not want to wake Alex up. That is how I learned what it must feel like to be a fresh steak thrown into the freezer. At first, only my head and feet were cold. However, as the night wore on the sweat on the inside and the moisture on the outside began to slowly freeze and after a long time I began to feel a few involuntary shivers.
Still, I figured that at some point I would become tired enough not to feel the cold so I waited, shivering in my sleeping bag, and endured. After a few hours of this I was still not sleepy and was starting to realize that I was not going to feel comfortable unless I reached that point in hypothermia where you start to feel warm again – the part that comes shortly before death. Still, I figured that I could get through the night. After a long time I decided to just shine my flashlight and see how the cave was holding up. To my surprise, the ceiling, which had been about 18 inches above my face when the cave was dug, was now less than a foot away. I realized that our body heat was slowly causing the cave to melt and shrink, and I began to try to calculate whether the roof would stay high enough to last the night, and whether it would keep shrinking slowly or simply collapse suddenly. I discovered that thinking such thoughts took my mind off how cold I was feeling. I also discovered that if I could lie very still I could actually hear the cave slowly collapsing and that the effort required to do this also distracted me from the cold.
However, that sound was soon replaced by the sound of an animal rummaging through my backpack at the cave entrance. I figured it was not a bear or a cougar since either of those would have already eaten us. More likely it was a badger, raccoon or a squirrel. I also found that thinking about this took my mind off the cold. I didn't want to wake up Alex and go out in the wind, so I finally decided I could share whatever was in my pack with the critter which was so intently rummaging through it.
Unfortunately, after making the decision to abandon my pack to the creature, I found it more difficult to take my mind off the cold. I realized that as the cave continued to shrink, my body heat was slowly escaping me from all sides and I was becoming entombed in a tube of snow. Still, I figured that if those Polish mountaineers could endure temperatures in which any piece of exposed flesh would be instantly frostbitten, I could stick it out through the night. Besides, I was probably more than half way through already.
I had turned off my cell phone to save batteries, and I felt the urge to check the time. But I figured if I could hold out for another hour or two before looking at the time I would be close enough to morning that I would be able to hang on. So I waited, listening to the creature rummaging through my pack as the cave slowly collapsed and Alex snored.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity I worked my cell phone out of an inner pocket and turned on the power. It was eleven thirty.
I can not describe the sense of despair that I felt when I realized that I was going to have spend another two lifetimes even colder than the one I had just experienced before I would see the light of day. Would the cave hold up? Should we dig deeper? At this point, I was shivering and I could tell that it would not be long until my teeth would start to chatter.
After agonizing about what to do for another hour, the critter finally woke Alex up. We yelled at it and swatted at the pack, but it seemed to be tangled up in the plastic cover. Finally, realizing that we would have to leave the cave, I pulled my boots on and decided to try to scare the animal as I made my exit. As I scrambled out of the cave entrance, yelling, I pushed my pack hard, and it fell over – and out of the wind, where it at once became a peaceful inanimate object -- completely intact. But if you were there, the wind would have fooled you too.
We saw two other snow cavers huddled around the fire and joined them. However, we only had a few logs left and we found that while huddling near the fire was better than being in the cave, we were were still losing body heat. After burning our few remaining logs and drinking some hot chocolate, we scrambled up to the cars to get a little sleep. We found the suburban inhabited by two other scouts who had already homesteaded the best seats.
It felt so good to walk that we just kept going, walking up to the ski lodge and down to the security gate. Once the blood started to flow I realized that I was going to survive. As long as I kept walking I would make it through the night. A feeling of gratitude came over me as I felt the cold and fear melt away and I realized that even though I would be tired the next day I was going to be warm again.
Reflecting on this experience, I believe it is much like our testimonies of the gospel. When we are passive and isolated, worrying about ourselves in the dark, our inner fire begins to cool. Even basking in the testimony of others, like sitting by the fire, can make parts of us feel warm for a little while. But the only way to really feel the warmth of the spirit fill our lives is to be active in the gospel. Jesus spent his ministry among the people. And Christianity is much less of an abstract set of concepts that it is an active way of life. I have found that my faith is stronger when I am actively involved in teaching, serving and worshiping than when I a take a theoretical and abstract view of religion. As James said:
"Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world."
Epilogue
Eventually, all the scouts ended up sleeping the in cars.
We ran the heater for a while and loaded up the gear around 5:30 am.
I had not slept at all and I jokingly asked the boys if they wanted to stay and go sledding one more time before we left.
The answer was a resounding YES!
Sometimes in life your only choice is tired or cold.
If you choose cold you eventually die, but if you choose tired you will always come through all right.
I have to sign off now.
I've got to catch up on my sleep.
