Long time ago, I was given a map with four marked spots, compass, and two bottles of water before a school bus dropped me off in an unknown location. Only four hours to figure out where I am before planning my route to get to all four locations, get moving and return to the base.
I am not alone. I am surrounded by others going through the same exercise. Except we’re dropped off in different locations with varying coordinates. We are not allowed to talk to one another.
It takes me half hour to plot out the lines on the map and write down four coordinates. I put one inside my shirt, and the other is in my left hand.
I walk forward. I panic. I can’t find the piece of paper anywhere. I look inside my shirt pocket to find another copy. I let out an audible sigh. I’m delayed. I have just lost 30 minutes.
??@#$@#$!!
Keep calm. I’ll be okay. Remember! Trust your azimuth. Trust your pace count. Take a deep breath.
The compass sits just above the bellybutton and is held level to the ground. I turn my body to align to the azimuth of my first destination. I lift my head and look far into the distance. I put the compass away. I shoot for a straight line, as the crow flies, towards the tree with what I hope have distinct branches. I count my steps. Every 52 steps is one yard. I have ten beads hanging on my left shoulder strap. Every 52 steps, I mark one down. Until I hit the distance towards my azimuth.
Thank goodness, there is a marker with red and yellow tape. I write it down.
I get to my third marker. I see panicked people everywhere. Some people are following others. The thought had entered my mind. I wish I could just follow, hoping perhaps that we are headed towards the right direction? Except we all started somewhere else. No two of us are alike in our quest.
I shoot my last azimuth. There is a swamp separating me and my next tree. 20 minutes remain.
??@#$@#$!!
I can’t swim. . I may got lost and lose my ‘tree.’ I have no choice but to go forward.
I wade through the muck that reaches just below my shoulders. I exit and find myself in front of two markers.
!!@#@?#&
I choose the one closest to the tree.
I run as fast as I can.
Ten minutes before I disqualify.
I am the last person among the 200 to finish.
I hand in my codes aligned to coordinates to the man sitting at an old desk.
He glances at me, looks over the sheet, and hands me a piece of paper: 4/4.
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