On Monday I went to work as usual but with a twist. The alarm clock woke me at 0415. For breakfast I ate some half-way defrosted frozen-pancakes off the flimsiest paper plates I could find. I used a plastic fork typical of fire camps so it broke as I worked up my first mouthful. I sat at my patio picnic table in the predawn dark. I turned on a fan to blow ashes from the Weber barbeque across the picnic table. Then nourished, I left for Work.

I walked to work carrying a shovel and a fifty pound pack. In the pack were rocks and underneath the rocks was my lunch in a paper sack. I peeled the plastic off my flat sandwich and dropped it in the dirt before I ate it. I made sure the meal was too salty. I drank no cold water during the time, I was on the GMTFFP. I drank water specifically heated to 105 degrees F. and laced with quinine to get that sour fire camp taste.

After work I rode home in the trunk of neighbor's car. My wife had fried a chicken for supper. I took my supper on another flimsy paper plate and poured the left over grease from the skillet on my portion to give it that fire camp flavor. Again I sat at the picnic table. I turned on the fan again and set a full garbage can next to it for an extra touch.

I had 50 transients come to my house for a shower. I stood at the end of the line to make sure all the hot water was used up by the time I got there. I used two Hefty paper towels to dry off when I got done.

That night I slept on the sidewalk underneath the street light. To make it more realistic, I put some gravel under the sleeping bag. I found a cassette tape of motor and generator noises to play on my Walkman as I dozed off. I had a neighborhood kid with a loud car stereo drive slowly by. Another neighbor woke me at intervals asking if this was the Mt. Hood crew. The area dogs were an unplanned but handy irritant, especially when one woke me with a warm wet feeling.

I varied this routine every day by the addition of different events. One day I slid down a rope to make my hands sore. On another, I walked to work barefoot. I trapped a squirrel in my red pack and had him chew up my underwear. I put a rock in my shoe. I had a street person talk to me in a loud voice about the cosmic significance of mayonnaise for 5 hours.

I had a guy in a faded green uniform pop up randomly with the thought of the day, things like:

"We didn't bring you here to think."
"You can't get new batteries for your head light until you bring in the dead ones.
"Not until you get this form signed by the IC, all the chiefs and bring a note from your mother."
"It's great idea but don't do it again unless the IC clears it." "It's logical, clear and concise. That's the reason we won't use it."

I got to admit the Get Mentally Tough for Fire Fitness Program worked swell. After a week I had experienced all the mental situations of a wildfire. I was ready. I had my physical fitness up. I was mentally tough. The problem was I had absolutely no desire to fight wildfire so I didn't.

Maybe GMTFFP worked too well.