I sat under my tarp listening to the sounds of rain pattering against the thin sheet of poly-coated nylon I would call my home for what appeared to be a long night. As the night went on, a small river developed in the middle of my shelter, and I was lying in the middle of it. I began to develop the first signs of hypothermia: uncontrollable shivering and a lack of sound judgment. I reached into my backpack to find another layer, but everything was soaked.

I decided I needed some other way to stay warm, so I started the long process of making a bow drill fire, a type of friction fire when you rub two sticks together fast enough that you get a coal. I struggled to make this fire in the rain, but eventually I got it going. As I sat around the fire, I could feel my body temperature rise. I have never loved fire as much as I did then.

I learned many lessons during this frightening experience, but the most important was that there are no shortcuts in the wilderness. In our society, we are always looking for shortcuts through life, and often think, “How little effort can I put into this and still get the job done?”

I realized this difficult night could have been prevented if I had just taken the time to make a decent shelter. It only would have taken five or 10 extra minutes to make sure that my tarp was secure and watertight.

Instead, I sloppily strung my tarp between a pair of trees, which did not work out very well for me in the long run. Yes, I did save some initial time setting up the tarp, but I lost even more time making the fire and having to make constant adjustments to the tarp.

As if this night alone was not enough to teach me to avoid the uncomfortable by-products of laziness, another embarrassing situation reinforced that lesson.

I was demonstrating how to make a bow drill fire for a group of children. I did not have the most ideal materials for the fire, but I assumed that I could make it work. No matter how hard I tried, I could not make a fire with that particular kit. I went at it for about an hour until I just couldn’t go anymore. Not only was I embarrassed in front of all these little kids, but we still didn’t have a fire.

Again, if I had just taken the time to gather the proper materials, I would have made a great fire and blown those kids’ minds. I even knew where the proper materials were; I just didn’t want to go out of my way to get them. I was being lazy.

I would truly love to say this was the last unpleasant night I have spent sleeping in a puddle due to my lack of preparation, but I would be lying if I did. Curbing my laziness is something I am still working on, but I encourage others to learn from my foolish mistakes and remember that there are no shortcuts in the woods or in our day-to-day lives.