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Friday, May 29, 2009

Giving a New Meaning to Finger Sandwiches

I've been watching this show on the Discovery Channel about a group of people who have been dropped in the Alaskan wilderness and are trying to find their way out. It's a bit like Survivor, but without the million dollars, the back-stabbing, the secret alliances, etc. Okay, so it's not like Survivor at all.

Anyway, nine people were given survival training and then left in the middle of Alaska to put that training to the test. The people involved are not survivalists, just regular folks with a wide range of backgrounds and vocations.

So far, the show has been very interesting. There are only five people left now after just over three weeks. The other four opted to leave after finding themselves unable to cope with being in the wild. The rest have banded together as a team and put their training to use. Last week, the young female bus driver went on a killing spree, shooting a duck and another bird, and taking a shovel to a squirrel. All those creatures went into the stew pot in an attempt to combat the team's constant hunger.

As I've watched the show, I've wondered: Would I make it in the Alaskan wilderness? I'm not sure. I would like to think that I could hack it out. Let's consider the conditions:

1. The cold.
Normally, I could do without freezing temperatures and snow. I do not like to be cold. However, with the recent onset of some truly heinous hot-flashes, those sub-zero temperatures are looking mighty comfortable.

2. The shelter.
The team has been staying in shelters ranging from crashed planes to hunting cabins. They've slept in beds, on the floor, and on the ground. I can sleep just about anywhere. Just give me a sleeping bag to burrow into and I'm good to go.

3. The hunting and fishing.
I love to fish. I'm not a big hunter. I've never held a gun, much less fired one. However, I think if I got hungry enough I could take down Bambi or any of his little forest friends. And that brings me to the last point and my Achilles Heel.

4. The lack of food.
The team is constantly searching for food, but they can never find enough and are on a mainly subsistence diet. That would not work for me. I need food. I am hypoglycemic (severely, I believe.) I don't just get weak or faint. I get ill and really grumpy when I'm hungry. It would not do for me to be cooped up with a bunch of people in a little cabin when I have a rumbly in my tumbly. Giving me a gun in those conditions would be a disastrous idea. I can just see the helicopter landing to pick everybody up and there I am sitting by the campfire with my belly bulging.

"Where did the rest of the team go?" the pilot asks.

"They went on a hunt," I answer.

"Burp."