Wildfires, Ropes, and Survival

A Radical Alternative to College

Sunday, June 28th, 2026

Writing to you from Uruguay

South Fork Fire in Northwestern Nebraska

Rope rescue training, survival training, and a fire deployment is a lot to fit into one month…

Within that timeframe, I travelled internationally twice, killed more hours on the road than I could count, and spent some amount of time across 5 different states. I guess that goes to show that planning or preparing to do something is half the battle when actually trying to do something. For the most part, I hit my initial objectives that I had for myself before heading back to the states: deploy to a wildfire and make money, complete the rope rescue course, and go to the survival course in southern Utah.

I’d say it was a reasonably successful month.

Let me tell you a little bit about it…

South Dakota to Utah: Rope Rescue to Survival School

I’ve been too busy to update you weekly as I usually wish to do. We last left off at the end of the rope rescue course (last weekly update) in Custer, South Dakota. Well, right after that ended, the next thing started. I had my orientation call with Boulder Outdoor Survival School for the 14-day expedition.

When the interviewer asked what my motivation was for taking the course, I told him about The Preparation and that I’ve been the guinea pig for it over the last 3 years.

A smile came across his face and what he said shocked me…

Apparently, about 3 or 4 other people have already gone to Boulder Outdoor Survival School to complete the Survivalist Cycle of The Preparation. A part of me was wishing that someone else from the program would happen to be taking the same course I was. I wish I could know who those 3 or 4 people were. Anyway, it was amazing to hear that.

Moving on…

Fast forward several days later. I had already driven through some of the most beautiful country I had ever seen and, after staying at a small hotel for a couple of days, arrived at BOSS for the expedition.

It was dry, and I mean very dry. Hot too. The sun shone down and cooked my skin. By the end of the day my face would be red. The students were told to show up at noon for orientation before we’d organize our stuff and then eventually head out to the field. Everyone was friendly, instructors and students alike. Just about everybody was over 25 except for me. There were paramedics, EMTs, ex-journalists, stay-at-home moms, and office workers—all wanting to do something difficult and learn something new.

It was interesting.

A new mom was wanting to spend some time in the wild before heading back home to her child and wildland firefighter husband. The ex-journalist I mentioned was recently divorced…and obviously distraught after a long relationship. He had already moved back home and picked up a new job. This course was the reset he thought he needed. Another mom from the Midwest was tired of her mundane life back home. She too was here for a reset of her own.

All of these people, from so many different walks of life, here for one reason or another.

Orientation took much longer than it should have. At least that’s what I thought as we were sitting under a canopy packing stuff and talking for hours. Once we were dropped off in the middle of the desert as the sun was setting, I realized that it was done by design. We were supposed to hike out into the middle of nowhere into the night. We had no pack, just a cloth to carry our gear. We had no blanket, just long underwear and the clothes on our back. We had one bottle of water. No food.

Unbeknownst to us, our last meal for a little while would be the small lunch they fed us earlier that day.

So, we hiked. The sky opened up into millions of stars as we walked single file, tripping ad stumbling more now that we couldn’t see as well. We stopped several times. Once, we stopped to look up at the night sky. The instructors pointed out Polaris, the Big Dipper, and Leo to name a few. Our breaks were short, which was fine since it was starting to get cold. Cold in the way that only the desert can be.

The instructors told us nothing about where we were going or what we were doing. By design, of course.

The First Cold Night

We had hiked far. At least, far enough that the instructors decided that it was time for us to bed down for the night. Exhausted, I laid on the desert ground, using my sack of gear as a pillow. I fell asleep at what I think was 11pm or midnight. Next time I woke up, I was shivering. My upper body was warm from 3 layers: cotton shirt, wool sweater, and a wool jacket. My legs and feet were freezing. I opened my sack of gear, pulled out my long underwear and put them on underneath my pants. Better, but still freezing.

I think I slept a little more. Not much though.

The next time I awoke, the sky was turning gray. Must have been about 4:30am. No point in going back to sleep now. It was too bright and we’d all be getting up soon.

The Second Day

The sun was up. And again, without any information, we were told to start hiking again. We hiked for the rest of the day through canyons and juniper forests in search of water. Eventually, we found some water in a canyon, and that was where we’d be stopping for a few hours to ride out the midday heat. We drank a lot of water (after treating it). We napped and talked to kill time under these massive rock formations with ancient petroglyphs carved into them. Then we drank again and napped again.

When the sun had started to get easier to endure, he hiked out of the canyon and back into the juniper forest that would eventually lead us to higher elevation.

The end of that day was rough. Few times have I felt worse than I did then.

We all slowed down. Only those who managed to occupy their mind with conversation for a long time kept their pace. My mind started to wander and think of cold drinks and burgers. By the time the sun had set, I slowed down a lot. My feet didn’t seem to function well either as I was stumbling more than I should have been otherwise. Then the nausea came. It came for a lot of us. 3 minutes away from our camp for the night.

A total of 5 people threw up back-to-back.

Our stomachs (after being used to food, having nothing to eat, and lots of exertion) were producing too much acid. Mine included, although somehow, I managed not to throw up. It was close.

Eventually, we all made it through the thick brush to our campsite on the other side of a creek. The atmosphere was different. Instead of cold desert ground, there were pine needles and ponderosa pine trees everywhere. Their bark smells like vanilla. It was noticeably warmer despite the fact that we were at a higher elevation. By that time, we had all become a bit more accustomed to being around one another, so we slept closer together to preserve warmth. Personally, I won’t voluntarily choose to sleep directly next to someone unless I’m absolutely freezing, so I was a few feet farther from everyone else.

The next morning, after a hike, I left.

I had an abnormal (and frequent) number of heart palpitations throughout the entire course. In fact, I’ve had some since then weeks later. Since we were heading into terrain that was largely inaccessible, I figured that it was best to leave. Less and less food, cold, and physical exertion didn’t seem like it would help. I’ve also had some occasional chest pain as well since that time. I’ll be getting that checked out soon.

I didn’t stay long enough to fully enjoy or appreciate the course. I wish I would have been there for the entire time, but I did learn more about finding water, personal hygiene in the wild, and how to keep yourself warm by choosing the right places to sleep and building the right camp.

Maybe I’ll go back and finish that course someday.

All that matters is that I did what I could, with what I had, where I was. I did what I thought was reasonable.

Utah to Colorado to Nebraska: Survival School to Wildfires

On the way back from the survival course, I stopped in Colorado to come up with a new plan for what I‘d be doing and where I’d be going. There seemed to be two options: head back to Uruguay or go to South Dakota to help my friends Tyler and Brennan (from Minuteman EMS, who I’ve worked for) pack medical bags and/or stage an ambulance for the fire season. I opted for the second since it would give me a chance to do some more productive stuff, see good people, and help them out.

Well, things always take an interesting turn…

On the way to South Dakota, I got a text:

“Do you have all of your fire gear?”

I answered ASAP.

“Alright, how far are you from Chadron, Nebraska?”

I was only 4 hours away. Another fire had blown up in Nebraska and they needed another ambulance to work on the fire. We were called out. My paramedic (who I hadn’t yet met) was driving the ambulance to the fire while I was in my personal car. We arrived at about the same time and started the checking process.

The next day, we were officially working on the South Fork Fire.

Everybody expected this thing to burn out quickly. It was a Nebraska fire after all. Grass fires go out quickly. The only thing that kept us on that fire for a total of 9 days were the pine and cottonwood trees that burned for hours, torched, and started spot fires. It was a short fire assignment, but it felt long. Perhaps that’s what flat (and mostly boring) land does to the mind. With little to look at, time passes by slowly.

Day 3 or 4 brought the most excitement.

Early in the morning we heard a call over the radio:

“We have a red IWI”

As soon as you hear that, your heart beats faster and your ears perk up. An IWI is an “Incident within an incident”, which is a term in wildland fire for a medical incident. All of the moderate or major incidents (yellow and red) must be mentioned over the radio for all personnel to hear. We shut up and listened close to hear where we needed to go, or if we would be the ones needing to respond anyway.

Once we got confirmation we moved fast. A National Guard REMS team (rope rescue team) was with us as well. They were apparently needed too. They hauled down the road in their UTVs full of rope gear while we chased them in the ambulance.

The red IWI was for a man who had slid into a tree root, got his leg caught in it, and twisted over his leg. His tibia was fractured and he was in a lot of pain. The National Guard team only had EMTs. So, my paramedic was the only one around who could administer pain meds such as ketamine. Once we got close to where the guy was, my paramedic grabbed his bag of medical gear and hopped into the NG UTV. I had to stay behind with the ambulance since we assumed we would transport him on the ground.

I had everything prepared: my mind, the gear, the ambulance. I was ready.

Unfortunately for me (fortunately for the guy), the medical team back at the base made the decision to transport him via chopper. My paramedic had his first ride on a helicopter while transporting the patient to a hospital about 45min away. He was very happy, and I was happy for him.

We all did what we could, with what we had, where we were.

I was prepared to do my job as an EMT—completely ready to go. The National Guard team set up a 3-to-1 rope hauling system in minutes to pull the guy out of a tough spot, and my medic did what was required of him given the situation. Perfect set up and execution in terms of most rescues.

That was the highlight of the fire. The rest was all mundane. That’d how it goes though: 98% boring and 2% exciting.

Anyway…

That’s how these past couple weeks have gone. Not all to plan, but it was a success in my eyes. Now, I’m looking forward to being in Uruguay for quite a while. I’ve had some stuff planned for over a month, which I’m really looking forward to finally get to now that I’m here.

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Are these updates informative? Are they useful? Entertaining?

Leave a comment below if you’ve got any suggestions or questions for me.

And don’t forget to send this to someone who might benefit.

I’ll see you next week.

-Maxim Benjamin Smith

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I am acting as a guinea pig for a program which is meant to prepare young men for the future. This program is designed to be a replacement for the only three routes advertised to young men today - go to college, the military, or a dead-end job.

All of these typical routes of life are designed to shape us into cogs for a wheel that doesn’t serve us. Wasted time, debt, lack of skills, and a soul crushing job define many who follow the traditional route.

This program, which we can call “The Preparation”, is meant to guide young men on a path where they properly utilize their time to gain skills, build relationships, and reach a state of being truly educated. The Preparation is meant to set young men up for success.

What appeals to me about The Preparation is the idea of the type of man I could be. The path to becoming a skilled, dangerous, and competent man is much more clear now. I’ve always been impressed by characters like The Count of Monte Cristo, men who accumulated knowledge and skills over a long period of time and eventually became incredibly capable men.

Young men today do not have a guiding light. We have few mentors and no one to emulate. We have been told that there are only a few paths to success in this world. For intelligent and ambitious people - college is sold to us as the one true path. And yet that path seems completely uncertain today.

We desperately need something real to grab onto. I think this is it.

I’m putting the ideas into action. Will it work? I can’t be sure, but I’m doing my best. I’m more than 60 weeks into the program at this point. So far, so good.

You can follow me along as I follow the program. Each week, I summarize all that I did.

My objective in sharing this is three fold:

1. Documenting my progress holds me accountable.

2. I hope these updates will show other young men that there is another path we can take.

3. For the parents who stumble upon this log, I want to prove to you that telling your children that the conventional path - college, debt, and a job is not the foolproof path you think it is.