Surviving In Swindon
A couple of nights ago I watched a program on Channel 4 about some guy who wanted to see if he could survive on his own in verdant wilderness of the Yukon. It is still an area largely left to nature and the mountains, forests, rivers, and lakes create jaw dropping vistas of natural beauty, teeming with wildlife. His early optimism soon gave way to the ennui of solitary existence and the constant need to find food, however small and unappetising it may be. There was also the possibility of encountering bears, and whilst grizzly's are sometimes fooled by playing dead, black bears are less easily satisified.
It came as no suprise to me that he suffered emotionally as well as physically. Human beings are social animals and we don't really like being on our own that much, though some individuals are better able to tolerate that sort of situation. Determination, discipline, and for some even religion all help you survive, but ultimately, you get worn down by the ravages of the enviroment and the lack of food begins to tell on your health. It reminds me of the survival programs by people like Bear Grylls and Ray Mears, both of whom stress determination, knowledge, and practice at the skills required to stay alive. I think one point they don't stress, though they often mention it in passing, is the limited time you have as a survivor. Very often people are forced to cope with conditions that don't suit human beings, possibly with scarce food and water sources.
Some years ago a criminal had vanished and a nationwide search for him was underway. Eventually he was spotted in a dishevelled condition attempting to buy matches. Apparently the man had bought one of those SAS survival guides and thought that was all he needed to manage his covert existence in some woods out of public gaze. Clearly his experience was tougher than he expected. It also occurs to me that the densely populated English countryside isn't always the easiest place to hide in for very different reasons too.
Walking back to Swindon from a hike into the farmland to the north I hauled myself step by step up the grassy slope toward Blunsdon village. The pack wasn't overly heavy, but it felt so, and it occured to me that my my relative lack of fitness, and mature years, were making this much harder than it had been in my youth. What will happen in a few years from now? Will I have to reduce the load I carry? Shorten the distance I walk? Commonsense tells me I can't keep this up forever. Another part of me eggs me on, willing me to push the boundary a little one more time.
Of course I can afford to. I live in a nice warm brick cave with water available for the asking and supermarket shelves within easy reach. My survival isn't about finding and exploiting natural resources, but paying for them. I have to perform daily tasks to obtain the money I need to survive. I need to cope with the social isolation that unemployment generates. In a small way, I can sympathise with the man in the Yukon. Then again, walking along a main road on my way to the countryside, a passing car sounded his horn and the driver waved at me. About two hundred yards away, all I could see was a pair of shades. I have no idea who it was. Whereas in the Yukon there's probably no living sole for hundreds of miles, out here in the urban wilderness of Swindon, you're never far from someone. But doesn't that present its own survival challenges?
That Was Close
Crossing a busy junction near my home is a daily occurence. The single decker buses always turn right down the main road toward the bus station and so I often walk across the road knowing full well there's no risk. Yesterday evening one flashed his indicators to show he was heading my way. For a moment I hesitated, then seeing a sign of a swing to the right, I assumed his indicators were incorrectly applied and that I was safe to cross the road. Needless to say, I soon realised it wasn't and got out of the way very quickly!
The urban enviroment has its own particular dangers . The thing is though, I'm used to them, or at least those I normally encounter. Attuned to them in some respects. It's second nature and you instinctively look for those hazards. Had I been born and bred in the Yukon, shown how to survive at an early age, hunting and fishing every day, perhaps I might have found it easier than the man from Channel 4. For now, surviving in Swindon is enough.
4 Comments
Recommended Comments