Dear Perimeter Hiker

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Dear Perimeter Hiker,

Has the BOSS survival course training helped you on this trip?

-Was It Worth It?

Dear WIWI,

When I participated in my survival course, I had originally envisioned it helping me in the western part of the state where the topography and climate would be more similar to that of Utah’s. I didn’t know if any of the knowledge would apply in my day-to-day living.

There are two answers to this question:

As per direct knowledge, the answer would have to be an excruciatingly painful ‘no.’ Sure, I use a knot or two that I learned in my survival course when setting up my tarp, but I don’t make fire from scratch, haven’t caught a fish with my bare hands, don’t make my own rope, haven’t tried trapping wild animals with a figure four, don’t eat out of a wooden burn bowl, and haven’t killed and processed a large animal.

However, there is a certain quality to the course which falls under the realm of experience. In this regard, the course has done me a great deal of good. I’m confident in ways I don’t think I was before. I’m more analytical when it comes to making decisions about where to sleep and how to sleep. It’s impossible to quantify this aspect of the experience. For example, if I have no supply of food or water and am two full days from either and my feet hurt and the weather is against me, I’ll still remain upbeat. It’s hard to imagine having that kind of confidence prior to the survival course.
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Dear Perimeter Hiker,

What are you eating out there?

-Get In My Belly

Dear GIMB,

I carry snacks and basically just skimp on my meals. I’m passing through so many communities that I’m not worried about having tons of food or a truly balanced diet. Put another way, I’m almost always a day or two away from a nice sit-down restaurant. So why carry food on my back?

When I happen to be on a multi-day stretch toward civilization, I eat peanut butter, raisins, and bread. Right now, I’ve switched out the peanut butter for some Nutella. It’s been decent, but I really think the chunky peanut butter is where it’s at.
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Dear Perimeter Hiker,

What tech & navigation gear do you have with you? What kind of phone, GPS, maps, etc?

-Geeked Out On Technology

Dear GOOT,

I am not using much in the way of navigation gear. I have a standard road map and a standard phone. I do not use GPS or specialized maps. I originally carried a compass with me but cut it out of my pack due to non-use.

I have heard of people using the SPOT device to track their movements on various trips. I considered this, even so far as asking SPOT to sponsor me, but ultimately decided against it. Furthermore, walking alone doesn’t lend itself to bulking up on expensive equipment.

The one area that I might re-evaluate is my map carrying. I walked on the most beautiful side road a few days ago. Trees stood right by the road (instead of being cut back), parts of the road were flooded (which I enjoyed since it wasn’t raining), dogs ran up on me, people waved. I wouldn’t have known about the side road had my host not had a county map.
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Until next time, hikers…

The Survival Course, My Return to Civilization, Bread, and the TPH Start Date

First off, I survived the survival course.

BOSS, better known as the Boulder Outdoor Survival School, took me and four other guys into the Utah wilderness for four weeks. We had three instructors, so our total group consisted of eight for eighteen days; the remaining ten days were spent more or less by ourselves.

A quick summary for anyone interested in the BOSS 28-day Field Course: this is first and foremost a backcountry hiking trip. With the exception of a three-day gorge fest on a sheep, most of the food rations are small, and participants stand a decent chance of experiencing the initial stages of starvation, while doing the aforementioned hiking which could be anywhere from five to ten miles a day. There is intermittent survival instruction, but only the basics are covered in any given subject.



Knowing what I know now, I don’t think I would have signed up for this particular course. I enjoyed the minimalist philosophy (see photo of blanket backpack and miscellaneous items on white cloth), but I wanted more instruction and quite frankly a more grueling hiking regimen in preparation for my Texas trek. As a group, we had a lackadaisical attitude and pace toward our daily hiking (truth be told, we had one extra-slow hiker), and as a result, our instructors scheduled several low-mile days for us. The instruction itself was good, but our instructors’ follow-up was close to nonexistent (that is, little was done to make sure we had mastered anything, with the notable exception of fire-making and some plant identification).

That said, there were many moments that were funny, crazy, scary, and wonderful which helped make the four-week course memorable. Here are a few anecdotes that I enjoy recounting:

1) The eight of us fasted during the first three and a half days, instructors and students alike, while hiking approximately ten miles a day and sleeping on the ground at night. During this time, we found out that one of our instructors was an apprentice. Someone asked if he got paid, and he responded that he did not. Then he added, “Well, they do give me room and board.”

2) In the final few days of the course, we were given maps and told to hike to a rendezvous point by ourselves. Two of our group of five were experiencing the onset of starvation. My pre-course body fat had cushioned me quite well to the nutritional rigors of this particular BOSS course, but I felt terrible for my fellow students (one fellow could be found in the evenings digging up cattails and eating the roots in a desperate attempt to feel full).

During this time, I started taking the “fishing” more seriously. This meant getting in the streams and patiently going after the fish with either our bare hands or roughly made spears. One afternoon, I saw a fish dart under a rock, and I snuck up on it. I gently reached under and lightly touched its side. To my surprise, it let me! As the expression goes, I “tickled the fish,” first with one hand, then with two. When I knew the fish’s exact location (where the head and tail were, specifically), I tried to tighten my grip. Sensing the threat, the fish tried to swim away, but I pushed it against the rock and held it there while trying to figure out a good way to get a grip on it. I sank deeper into the stream, wrestling to hold it down.

Then I got it and brought it out! It was a 14” bottom dweller (like a freshwater catfish without whiskers). The other students were ecstatic. We were going to have some decent protein and perhaps stave off hunger for an evening. I was a hero for a day.

3) During this same period of time, we had to traverse a very narrow canyon. It kept getting more and more narrow until finally my shoulders could touch both sides. It really felt crazy. We worked together in a way that hadn’t been seen before. We helped each other with our packs, took the time to make sure everyone had made it through each stretch okay. We perhaps made a mile in an hour and a half, but we came through as a tighter group.

4) One component of the course is called "Big Game Processing." Basically, you slaughter a sheep and in doing so learn the rudimentary skills of processing any small to large game.

During this phase, we used much of the animal, including the stomach with which we made stomach bread. We cleaned the sheep's stomach quite well, going so far as to put it in a nearby stream to get the gunk off. Then I was charged with making the dough (all the dry ingredients were pre-mixed; "just add water"). After I did that, we put it in the stomach and cinched the open end. Then we boiled it for about 75 minutes. What we got was a wonderful slice of heaven.

(SPOILER!!! SKIP THIS NEXT PART IF YOU ARE CONSIDERING THIS BOSS COURSE.)

5) Our final task was a solo night hike. I’ve hiked alone in the dark before, on the Appalachian Trail and elsewhere, but this was something entirely different. We were relieved of our packs, which was nice, and headed out from camp one by one. The timing was such that during the first twenty minutes we could all see an unobstructed moonrise. The sky was clear, the night air crisp, and that moon shone like a spotlight over the land. It set the mood for a lovely ten-mile hike to our final camping destination.

We didn’t know how long our hike would be when we set off, so this gave each of us a long two-and-a-half hour window to think with an open mind of our experiences and lives, unencumbered by a mental endpoint. When we approached a confusing fork in the path, there was a green glow stick indicating the correct direction (sometimes these glow sticks were miles apart!). Everything was quiet. I passed a couple of the others, and we did so more or less silently. We came into the final camp one by one, hugged our instructors, chatted near the fire, and turned in, doing our best to sleep in the cold desert air.

So, yes, I survived. On August 8th, 2009, we were all readmitted to civilization, happier, skinnier, and ready for a series of big fat meals. Our first order of business: hitting up the Boulder grocery store. Two fellows bought miscellaneous junk food. Another bought bread, a jar of peanut butter, and jelly. The last guy and I split the price of a half-gallon of peanut-caramel ice cream and pretty much devoured the entire thing while sitting on the grocery porch (I heard a little girl ask the owner, “What are those guys doing out there?” and the owner responded, “Those men just came from the wilderness and haven’t seen peanut butter or ice cream in a long time.”). It was a glorious pig out.

In fact, I haven’t stopped pigging out. I estimated that I weighed somewhere in the 130s at the end of the program. I weighed myself today, and that means I have put on over twenty pounds in ten days. Yes! I’ll lose most of it in the months to come, but I am resting better knowing that I will once again have a fat buffer between me and my hiking trials.

My return to civilization also had a peculiar twist: both my legs swelled up from my knees to my feet. This has never happened before. It was a little unnerving to see a stranger’s legs on my body. I saw a doctor today, and as best she could figure, I had a spike in my salt intake after the course followed by prolonged inactivity in the car which probably caused my temporary bilateral swelling. I took a few tests to confirm that nothing was wrong, and they all came back negative. So it’s just a matter of a few more days to get completely back to normal.

In these last few days, I have started baking a ton of bread and treats for the family, a nod to my time in Helena at Sweetgrass Bakery. I’ve made brioche, croissants, bagels, butter cookies, rolls, challah, and cream cheese danish. Together with my nephew Will, we made fresh pasta and raviolis (my nieces Caroline and Grace helped with the final molding of the raviolis). Everything has been a hit, so much so that you’d think my family had been on the survival course with me.

I have settled on an August 28th start date. I will distribute my first article a few days before that, do some final preparation, then take off. I do not anticipate any fanfare, though my friend Darren has committed to walking the first leg with me. Little does he know it’s 40 miles.

I’m excited and amazed that this moment is finally upon me. I’ll save final pre-trip words for a later post.

If you are along the route and would like to meet or share interesting historical and/or personal anecdotes, please drop me a line well in advance at smattathias@gmail.com. I can’t promise to meet everybody, but I will try to do my best. If you are an organization or school and would like a lecture or presentation, I would suggest contacting me a minimum of six to eight weeks in advance. All queries representing people within fifty miles of the perimeter will be seriously considered. Let’s make this trip happen together!

Until next time, wanderers…

More Papers, More Books, and BOSS

It was hard getting work done during the holidays, but I have made a few advances nonetheless. As per the title, a few more papers have agreed to print my Texas Perimeter Hike column, I have read or started a few more books, and finally, I have submitted my name for an outdoor survival school scholarship.

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I am pleased to announce that my hometown newspaper the Corpus Christi Caller-Times has agreed to run my future column. In a bizarre twist, my contact person is Cynthia Wilson, formerly Cynthia Arbuckle, of W.B. Ray High School fame. She didn’t reveal her secret identity until the end of our first phone conversation, but I had suspected that it was her all along. In addition, I have garnered the support of the Clifton Record. To both of these papers, I thank you for your support and willingness to take a chance on me and this project.

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I have also been doing some reading, both historical and fictional, going back in time to get a feeling for what once was in the different regions of Texas. I recently finished The Captured by Scott Zesch which details the lives of abducted child settlers by Native Americans, mainly the Apache and Comanche peoples. The author’s distant uncle Adolph Korn, himself an abductee, inspired the research into what these captured children endured and the times in which they lived. Because of the perimeter hike, I became especially interested in the landscape of the Panhandle, a favorite meeting ground of the evasive warrior-nomads. The perimeter also passes within fifty miles of the farm of Dot and Banc Babb, two of the children featured in Zesch’s research. A fascinating and lively book, The Captured will have you longing for those fearsome times, which, truth be told, took place not so long ago.

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I have also started both Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry (why, oh why, have I waited so long?) and Lone Star Nation by H.W. Brands. I am only a few pages into Lonesome Dove, but it promises to be an epic journey after my own heart. With an eye on the perimeter, I hope to rediscover the cattle trail “used” by Augustus McCrae. Lone Star Nation on the other hand is addressing Texas history with a wonderfully entertaining style. Brands’s facts are every bit as engaging as McMurtry’s fiction, illuminating and spotlighting our Texas forebears and the clash of cultures that took place leading up to the forming of the republic and, ultimately, the state.

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Lastly, I have added a new element to an already heaping project. I have applied for the David Buschow Memorial Scholarship to attend a Boulder Outdoor Survival School Field Course. The BOSS staff trains participants to survive in the Utah desert. The course is intended to be rigorous, mentally as well as physically challenging. It lasts twenty-eight days, and by the end, participants are expected to have a fundamental grasp of how to survive in the middle of nowhere. Water location, campsite location, and fire making are part of it, but the tougher part, working through “the wall” of your fatigue, hiking fifteen to thirty miles with little food and water, and figuring out just how to make things work, either makes or breaks its participants.

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I’ll hear back from BOSS toward the end of February. In the meantime, I’ve trying to improve my physical health. One of the things BOSS grades you on before starting is the Cooper 1.5-Mile Running Test. After a few trials, I have fallen comfortably within the “Good” range for 30 to 39 year olds. (I can’t believe I’m in the 30 to 39 bracket!) I’m also doing push-ups, crunches, sit-ups, and stretching, as well as jumping rope and hiking. The exercise feels good.

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There is much that remains to be done, and I will continue to update periodically to let you know where I am. For the moment, that’s all from the preparatory side of the Texas Perimeter Hike.

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Until next time, travelers… stay tuned.