This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2015, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
The thirstiest I've ever been was during a shooting trip in the West Desert with Bammer, when our car broke down in the middle of nowhere.
We were stuck there with half of a bottle of flat, warm Pepsi between us. It was amazing how quickly that Pepsi started to look good even with the cigarette butt floating inside.
It wasn't like we hadn't planned at all. We had a bag of sunflower seeds, a partially gnawed Slim Jim, seven guns, and 8,000 bullets of various calibers. But unless someone defenseless came along whose water we could seize at gunpoint, we were going to die.
By noon the second day the Pepsi was gone and we were making desperate plans. We wrote final notes and got ready for the end. Delirium took over.
Me: "If I die first you can drink my blood."
Him: "No thanks. I know where your blood has been."
We were peering into the radiator when an Air Force truck pulled up. The guy inside yelled at us for being on the bombing and gunnery range. But he had water.
It was an important lesson in desperation. Thirst can make you crazy. We all might want to give this a think while we still have our wits.
How thirsty would you have to be to drink the water out of your dog's dish? I know, I know, some of you have already done it. You didn't have to be thirsty enough. Just drunk enough.
But I'm talking about real thirst. What if the water coming out of your tap stopped and you had to get by with what you had around the house? How long before you start drinking out of the toilet?
I'm not talking about fraternity hazing. This is about genuine thirst. We're in a serious drought right now, people. We should all be thinking about what to do if the taps run dry, besides blame the government.
We should all conserve our most precious resource (next to pizza) — and prepare for that dreadful possibility when even conserving won't be enough.
So far my own preparation for a sudden absence of water is miserable. I have several cases of bottled water, whatever is in my water heater, and a water filter that was advertised to block giardia but didn't.
The average person needs about a gallon of clean water per day. Clean does not mean that you can't see anything floating around in it. It needs to be free enough from germs so that being thirsty doesn't become a distant second concern.
Few things will take your mind off of being thirsty like diarrhea so violent that you actually excrete some internal organs.
As we head into summer, let's give some thought to watering our football field-size yards a little less. Maybe go a little longer between car washes. Oh, and store some water for emergency use.
If you already store water, give it a check. Take the lid off. If it smells like a salt marsh, or if it's full of pollywogs, it's been stored too long. It's past time to cycle it out for some clean water. Do it now.
Finally, make sure you have a way of making water safe to drink. A few — maybe five — drops of household bleach in a gallon of suspect water will render it potable.
Some people don't like the taste of bleach in their water, but it's possible to get thirsty enough to not mind so much. Trust me, it goes down easier than cigarette butts.
Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley. Find his past columns at http://www.sltrib.com/lifestyle/kirby