Stanley Yelnats' Survival Guide to Camp Green Lake (Holes 1.50)

The ground is hardest near the surface. Try to find a crack in the earth and wedge the shovel blade into it. Then stomp or jump on the back of the blade, driving the shovel into the ground. I’m a pretty heavy guy, so that helped, but it’s not all about weight. Zero was the smallest guy in D tent, but he was our fastest digger.

Once you’ve loosened the dirt, try to get into a rhythm. Dig, scoop, toss. Dig, scoop, toss. One, two, three. Let your mind wander. Think about things you like. Things you don’t like. Imagine that the dirt is Mr. Sir’s face as you jab it with your shovel.

Your leg muscles are your strongest muscles, so use them. Don’t put too much stress on your back. Bend your legs as you dig deep, then straighten them as you raise your shovel.

When your hole is finished, it will be five feet deep and five feet in diameter. Your shovel is your measuring stick. You must be able to lay your shovel flat across the bottom of your finished hole in any direction.

Allow yourself enough room. Be sure to toss the dirt far away from your hole, especially when you first start digging.

As your hole gets deeper, it will become harder to toss the dirt very far, so you will have to let it pile up near your hole. Be careful. There is nothing worse than having your dirt pile fall back into your hole. Always leave a clear space next to your hole. This will allow you to climb in and out of your hole, and to measure the depth.

Don’t ever toss your dirt into another digger’s hole. Not by accident. Not as a joke. Never.

The water truck comes by every two hours, so ration your water accordingly. At about ten-thirty in the morning you’ll get lunch: a sandwich, canned fruit, and a cookie. Don’t open your sandwich to see what it is. You don’t want to know. You probably wouldn’t recognize it, anyway.

A supply truck comes to Camp Green Lake every two weeks, so if it’s the day after the truck arrives, the bread and cookie might still be fresh. But once they’re exposed to the dusty heat of the desert, they dry up pretty quickly.

The fruit comes in a sealed container. I recommend eating it very slowly, savoring every small bite. But everyone has his own way. Zigzag liked to eat whole slices of peaches. “I like the wet, slippery feeling as they slide down my throat.”

Whatever.

The hardest time to dig is right after lunch. Your muscles will ache, and your hands will be blistered. The last thing you’ll want to do is climb back down into your hole and dig some more. You must. The hottest part of the day in Texas is between two and six o’clock. Just get off your dirt pile and back into rhythm. One, two, three. Dig, scoop, toss.

The first night, after digging your first hole, you’ll be amazed how sore you are. It’s not just your arms and legs that will hurt. My waist and groin hurt. I had swollen knees. My feet were blistered. My neck ached.

Over time your muscles will grow stronger. Your skin will toughen. But the hardest part about digging is not physical, it’s mental.

You just can’t let yourself think about how many holes you’re going to have to dig, day after day, week after week, in the heat and the dust, month after month. Don’t think about how many times you’re going to have to stick your shovel in the earth and scoop out another shovelful of dirt.

You’ll go crazy. Why do you think Barf Bag stepped on a rattlesnake? It wasn’t an accident. He took off one shoe and one sock first.

I’m sorry if this section is getting a little long and boring. The thing is, I know a lot about digging holes. But pay attention because now I’m going to give you my best advice, although you might find it hard to believe.

Try to dig a perfect hole.

I know that sounds really weird. Who cares if your hole is perfect? But if you’re going to be out there six hours a day, you have to give yourself a purpose. You can either groan about how stupid it is to dig a hole, or you can tell yourself you’re doing something important. You’re digging the best hole anyone’s ever dug.

It also helps physically. If you can make a perfect circle, exactly five feet in diameter and five feet deep, with sides that are perpendicular to the ground, you will have dug the absolute minimum amount of dirt required. No one’s ever done that, not even Zero, but he’s come close.

When you’re done, stand over your hole. Take time to admire it, no matter how tired and sore you feel. You worked hard digging that hole, and you should take pride in a job well done.

And then spit in it. Because, after all, it’s just a stupid hole, and you are better than that.

9

The Road to Freedo

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It took me over eight hours to get to Camp Green Lake in the Texas Youth Authority bus. The last three hours of the trip were on the same long, straight road. The road was paved at first, but the pavement seemed to crumble away until it was nothing but a dusty dirt road. Outside the dirty windows there was nothing but miles and miles of brush and weeds. Then, as we got closer to Camp Green Lake, all I saw were holes and dirt piles.

This is the only road in and out of Camp Green Lake. Every two weeks a supply truck rumbles into the camp compound, bringing everything from five-gallon cans of peas to a new jigsaw puzzle for the Warden.

Most of the time, you forget the road is even there. Every once in a while, when you’re out there digging, you’ll notice the road cutting right through the sea of holes. Something about it seems unreal. If you stare at it long enough, it seems to rise up and float just above the holes.

Somewhere at the other end are all the things that aren’t at Camp Green Lake: beds with clean sheets; toilets that flush; food that doesn’t come from a can. Girls. Girls with clean hair. Girls in bikinis. Girls on TV. Girls talking together as they walk down the school hallway. Girls concentrating in algebra class, trying so hard to get a good grade, with no idea of how they made me feel inside.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some kind of sex maniac or anything. Back at school, I was fat and unpopular. Girls ignored me. But still, after working, sleeping, and eating with a group of sweaty guys in orange suits day in and day out, I couldn’t help thinking about all the girls at the other end of that road. The way they walked. The way they talked. Even the way they seemed to look right through me as if I was invisible.