What you're looking at there is my arm, going into the rock... and there it is, stuck. It's been without circulation for 24 hours. It's pretty well gone. If the color doesn't come across on the video, it's grey and blue. Unnhhhhh.......I'm in deep stuff.
God, I am praying to you for guidance. I'm trapped in Blue John Canyon - you probably know that - and I don't know what I am supposed to do. I've tried everything I can think of. I need some new ideas. Please show me a sign. [long pause] OK, then, God, since you're apparently busy: Devil, if you're listening, I need some help here. I'll trade you my arm, my soul, whatever you want. Just get me out of here. You want me never to climb again, I can give that up. Just show me the dotted line.
I've been thinking about what my friend Rob in Aspen says to me several... frequently.. Several times that, confusingly, 'It's not what you do but who you are'. I kind of got hung up on that a lot, because I always thought who I was, was very much wrapped up with what I did. That I was happy because of the things that I did that made me happy. If things you do make you happy, then they can also make you unhappy. I think that's why I found myself being as ambitious and energetic - [The wind interrupts him and he shivers and mutters] It's cold... this place is an ice-box at night... And killing winds. [speaks louder] - to do all the outings that I did.
Good morning, everyone! It's 6:45 Tuesday morning in BJ Canyon! The weather is great. I figure by now that Leona, my housemate - Hi, Leona! - has missed me hopefully since I didn't show up last night. Another hour and a half they'll miss me for not showing up at work... Hi, Brion at work! Best case scenario is they notify the police and after a 24 hour hold they file a report, a missing person's report. Which means noon tomorrow it's official that I'm gone. I do still have the tiniest bit of water left. Well, actually, I've resorted... I've had a couple pretty good gulps of urine that I saved in my Camelbak. I sort of let it distill... It tastes like hell. So, it's 70 hours since I left on my bike from Horseshoe Trailhead during which time I have consumed 3 liters of water, a couple of mouthfuls of piss... [pauses a couple of seconds] Did I say the weather is great? Well, it is. Though flash floods potential is still present. There's four-prong major canyons upstream from me that all converge in this 3 foot wide gap where I am. The rock I pulled down on top of me, it was put there by flood. Still, I'd get a drink. [pauses again, while he drinks and shudders] Mom, Dad, I really love you guys. I wanted to take this time to say the times we've spent together have been awesome. I haven't appreciated you in my own the way I know I could. Mom, I love you. I wish I'd returned all of your calls, ever. I really have lived this last year. I wish I had learned some lessons more astutely, more rapidly, than I did. I love you. I'll always be with you.
This next part may not be for all viewers at home. It's a little after eight. At precisely eight o'clock I took my last sip of clean water... and... hide your eyes, Mom...
God, it's Aron again. I still need some help. It's getting bad here. I'm out of water and food. Listen. Give me the strength not to do anything against myself. I want to see this through, whatever.
I did this Aron. I created this. The boulder did what it was here to do. It was waiting for me but it did the only natural thing it could do. I chose to come here, I chose to do this descent by myself. I chose not to tell anyone where I was going. I chose to turn away from the women who were there to keep me from getting in this trouble. I wanted it to be like this. Look how far I came to find this spot. It's not that I'm getting what I deserve - I'm getting what I wanted.