I found myself in quicksand this morning. In a nano-second I literally stepped from terra firma to terror.
My right foot went first. I stepped on what appeared to be solid ground when suddenly I felt cold, wet, sandy, dense clay suck me down. My left foot instinctively tried to step away from the area, but the circumference was too broad.
Both feet rapidly disappeared below the earth. I was astonished at how quickly I sank. The gushy mud mixture relentlessly pulled me. I struggled to get my feet out. But both feet became completely immersed.
The more I struggled, the deeper I sank. My ankles were covered. Then, my shins and my calves and my knees continued their downward destiny. Oh my god!
I felt like I was in an elevator crashing to the bottom. This all happened in a weird time-warp way that you hear people talk about after a traumatic event. It happened simultaneously fast and slow.
A thousand thoughts swamped my mind. I realized that because it was early Sunday morning, many people were not outside yet. No one was in sight. I was far out in the middle of a lake bed that is still under construction.
The geese I came to feed were 100 yards away. As I sank, they stopped eating and with seeming curiosity, watched me. What an odd feeling. I thought, “The geese are witnessing this entire event but won’t be able to tell anyone where I am or what happened to me.”
What a strange feeling … My inner critical voice shamefully said, “Drowning in mud is a really dumb way to die! How embarrassing!”
I sank deeper. The voice continued, “You didn’t even bring your cell phone.” Still sinking. I thought, “I don’t have time to call anyone anyway! My sink rate is significant!”
Now, thigh-high in quicksand, I knew that if I continued to sink, then I would not have the physical strength to pull myself out. But when I tried to wiggle my feet and pull them upward, the earth gripped me tighter. It was not going to let me go so easily.
Panic arrived. I envisioned myself sinking until the quicksand approached my neck and mouth and finally over my head. That scenario may be more myth and movie than fact, but I still pictured it.
An inner voice instructed, “Distribute your weight – don’t struggle! Stop moving!”
I stopped moving. I stopped struggling. I distributed my weight. I bent over at my waist and put my elbows and forearms on the mud’s surface in front of me. It was not solid either.
I flattened my palms too. There wasn’t anything to grab to help hoist me up.
Like a meditative mantra, I repeatedly said out loud, “Suzanne, distribute your weight! Distribute your weight!”
So, as I inched my chest onto the earth in front of me, I made my body as flat as possible. I slowly pulled out one leg at a time. The earth began to release its grip.
Caked in sandy, wet clay, I crawled on my belly until I saw solid earth. With wobbly knees I cautiously stood up, although I was ready to drop flat again in case I started to sink.
I reached solid ground. I was safe. My heart beat rapidly and my hands shook. I walked home grateful for another day. I am grateful for another opportunity to tell my family and friends how much I love them.
Someone stepping on it will start to sink. To move within the quicksand, a person or object must apply sufficient pressure on the compacted sand to re-introduce enough water to liquefy it. The forces required to do this are quite large: to remove a foot from quicksand at a speed of .01 m/s would require the same amount of force as “that needed to lift a medium-sized car.”
There is quicksand behind Planterra Ridge at the lake construction site. Please warn citizens to not jog or goof off in this area. I was thigh high and barely escaped.
Suzanne Maiden
Peachtree City, Ga.
