Tag Archives: Utah

The Choice That Saved His Life

Aron Ralston loved solitude and challenge, believing that self-reliance was built far from crowds. In the spring of 2003, he traveled alone to a remote slot canyon in Utah, expecting a brief, familiar adventure. He carried climbing gear, a small supply of food and water, and strong confidence in his experience. One detail was missing. He did not leave his exact plans with anyone, trusting preparation more than precaution.

While descending a narrow canyon wall, a massive boulder suddenly shifted. Aron lost his balance, and the rock crushed his right arm against the canyon wall, pinning it tightly. He shouted, but the canyon offered no answer. There was no cell service and no sign of other hikers. Within moments, he understood the seriousness of his situation. Escape was impossible without freeing his arm, and help was nowhere nearby.

Aron spent hours testing every option. He pushed, pulled, twisted, and used his climbing gear to create leverage, but the boulder did not move. As daylight faded, he marked time by carving lines into the canyon wall. He rationed his water carefully, knowing it would not last long. With each passing day, dehydration weakened him, and the silence forced him to confront the reality that no one knew where he was.

As the hours stretched into days, Aron’s thoughts drifted beyond the canyon walls. He imagined family members, future conversations, and moments he had once assumed would always be there. Simple images returned: shared meals, laughter, and unfinished plans. These were not dramatic visions, but reminders of connection. Life beyond the canyon began to feel real again, and he understood survival meant returning to people and experiences that still mattered deeply.

That growing sense of connection reshaped his fear into resolve. Aron realized that remaining trapped was no longer endurance but surrender. Choosing life meant accepting unbearable pain now to protect everything that came after. His thoughts became calm and focused. The decision ahead was not impulsive or desperate. It was deliberate, formed through reflection and responsibility. He understood that survival required action, even when the cost felt unthinkable.

Using a small multi-tool, Aron prepared himself mentally for what he had already accepted. He broke the bones in his arm to make the act possible, then amputated the trapped limb with controlled determination. The pain was extreme, but he stayed conscious by focusing on breath and purpose. This moment was not driven by panic. It was an act of responsibility, claiming ownership of his life and the consequences of his choices.

Freeing himself was only the beginning. Aron rappelled down a canyon wall, then hiked several miles through rough terrain while injured and severely dehydrated. Each step required discipline and focus. He refused to rush, knowing mistakes could cost his life. Eventually, he encountered other hikers who helped him reach safety. Rescue came not through luck, but through persistence, preparation, and the willingness to keep moving despite exhaustion.

During recovery, Aron reflected on what the canyon had taught him. He acknowledged the risks he had taken and the importance of communication and preparation. Independence, he learned, does not mean isolation. Responsibility includes letting others know where you are and understanding that choices carry weight. Rather than feeling defeated, Aron felt grateful. The experience reshaped how he approached adventure, connection, and awareness moving forward.

Aron later shared his story openly, not to shock others, but to teach accountability and resilience. He trained again, returned to climbing, and built a meaningful life shaped by clarity rather than fear. Losing an arm did not end his future. It refined it. Strength, he discovered, is not avoiding mistakes, but responding to them with honesty, courage, and the discipline to grow beyond them.

Taking responsibility can save your life. Aron survived because he faced the truth of his situation, accepted the weight of his choices, and acted with clear purpose rather than denial. His experience shows that responsibility is not about blame or regret. It is about awareness, preparation, and the courage to act when the moment arrives and decisions carry lasting consequences.

Brand New Shoes

    I remember getting new shoes as a kid, and for me it was magical. Growing up with nine siblings makes you realize how precious it was to get new shoes. Growing up in the 60s, and 70s shoes were made to last. They were made of genuine leather. You would usually out grow shoes before they wore out. This is were the shoe box comes into the story. When we out grew our shoes we put them in the big box full of shoes. Mom would say “go down to the shoe box in the basement. You will find shoes you can wear in there.” 

    We dreaded going to the box for shoes. We secretly hoped the box would not have shoes our size. Mom was usually right. Even when we said there are no shoes our size in the shoe box she would find a pair of shoes she could make work. We would say “sorry mom these shoes fit but they don’t have shoestrings” she would go look in her sewing drawer finding  shoestrings. Or we would say “these shoes are all scuffed up” Mom would say “we have lots of shoe polish” We would get those shoes looking like new complete with a spit shine. When you have polished your shoes as good as you can shine them, you spit on them while you keep shining your shoes. These shoes turn into a beautiful masterpiece almost every time.

    On rare occasions when the shoe box didn’t have my size my parents would say lets go to Junior Bootery. This was a kids shoe store in the Valley Fair Mall, in West Valley City, Utah near our home. I got so excited when I got to pick out my very own brand new shoes. This store had steps to get us kids up higher onto this platform almost like a mini stage. This is where the store worker would measure out feet with a special shoe measurer to make sure they brought out the right size of shoes. I would usually pick three different pairs of shoes, and the store worker would help me try them on and find the one that felt the most comfortable.

    After we decided which pair of shoes I wanted, the store manager would ask me if I wanted to wear my new shoes out of the store or was I putting them back in the box for later? I always said “I want to wear them now.” I was so excited to show everyone my new shoes. It has been fifty years since I last went to Junior Bootery, yet reflect with fondness the joy I felt when I was able to get a pair of brand new shoes.