
By Louise Wynn
Mormons and Mars
Throughout
history, people have sailed across huge oceans and trekked
across whole continents in search of freedom.
Dr.
Robert Zubrin, founder and president of The Mars Society,
established a Mars analogue research station in southern
Utah partly because of the example of the Mormon pioneers.
“Utah’s pioneer past is Mars’s future,” he writes in his
book Mars on Earth.
He
adds, “strictly speaking, [the Mormons] did not go to Utah
to escape persecution, but in order to be what they wanted
to be, and to live in a society constructed in accord
with their own ideals.”
The
same kind idealism and search for “fundamental freedom”
that inspired the Mormons to move to the barren deserts
of the Western United States is the same motive that will,
“two hundred years after the Mormons’ migration, inspire
human colonists to try their courage and grit on Mars,”
Zubrin believes.
I
agree with him. My first Mars analogue experience at the
Mars Desert Research Station (MDRS) in southern Utah earlier
this year led me to think of my own pioneer ancestors, from
early settlers of Utah and later settlers of Arizona down
to my own parents who moved from Arizona to the Golden State
when I was seven years old to establish a future for their
little family.
They
all had courage and will and faith and … a dream, a vision.
What else could motivate some people to move to the middle
of nowhere in the name of religion or ideals or a new life
for their families when they could, as Zubrin points out,
“just return to the religions of their birth” – or to the
cultures of their birth or the expectations of their family,
or to the secure jobs and comfortable lives that many other
people wouldn’t even consider leaving behind?
But
this dream or vision is not enough. Nor are all the courage
and grit and hard work in the world. All these ingredients
are worthless without at least three others: the ability
to plan for every contingency, the flexibility to go with
Plan B (or C) when necessary, and the willingness not only
to work with strangers but to live with and join futures
with those strangers.

This “Mars” sunset is actually the desert of Utah, which
is only one similarity Mars explorers have with Church members.
Strangers Together
Like
all crewmembers at the beginning of a Mars analogue crew
rotation, I was worried about whether I would fit in, how
I would get along with five or six completely new people
for two to four weeks, whether I could accomplish my research
goals, and even whether my research was “good enough.”
I
would be a stranger in a strange land, but what didn’t occur
to me until I met my crewmates was that they felt the same
apprehensions.
MDRS
Crew 24 got immediate experience in flexibility when we
arrived at Salt Lake City Airport to find that the vehicle
we’d expected to be waiting to transport us to the MDRS
Habitat near Hanksville wasn’t available after all.
Commander
Digby Tarvin asked crew engineer Diego Casa and me to rent
cars. (Diego and I had arrived at the airport about the
same time.) We should drive the cars to the motel where
Digby and the other crewmembers were already planning our
meals and research schedule. All six of us would complete
our shopping list, find a grocery store and buy enough food
to last two weeks, and drive to Hanksville before dark.
The crew we were replacing would drive the rental cars back
to Salt Lake the next day, and we would be on our own for
the next two weeks.
We
also got some other flexibility practice right away: One
of our crew members (me) was a vegetarian who, although
she didn’t want to keep anyone else from eating all the
meat they wanted, needed to make sure there was another
source of protein in our meals. Another had broken his
foot two days earlier and wouldn’t be able to participate
fully in our research activities. Another had been called
with only three days’ notice to replace an original crewmember
who had canceled at the last minute, yet had managed to
rearrange his whole life and work schedule in a whirlwind
of activity to join us. Chemist Celeste Gale, the only other
woman on Crew 24, had committed to perform biological research
and had spent the three weeks before coming to Utah reading
up in this field. Digby, Australian by birth, had traveled
all the way from England to be our commander. But the one
who had traveled the farthest in most respects had to be
Kyoichi Sasazawa, Washington science correspondent for one
of Japan's most influential newspapers, the Yomiuri Shimbun.
Maps
inspected, shopping done, and two cars crammed full of sleeping
bags, duffel bags, groceries, and three crew members each,
we began the drive from Salt Lake to Hanksville. We were
on our way, already less strangers than when we’d met.
Bob
McNally, with a degree in engineering plastics and his own
guitar-making business, was the crew member who’d joined
us on short notice. As I drove south through the magnificent
desert to our own personal Mars, he and Kyoichi took photos
out the window, and we shared our reasons for making the
trek.

Crew
23 greets Crew 24. The author is at the far left.
Expecting Change
We
also wondered how we would be changed over the next two
weeks, because the one thing we were sure about, going in,
was that we would drive back to Salt Lake at the end of
our rotation changed in some respects.
All
six of us had been planning in some way for years for this
experience. Some of us had wanted since childhood to be
astronauts, some had planned our whole lives around exploration
and adventure, some were established as scientists, and
some were amateurs or still students. We all wanted to contribute,
and we all recognized that sitting in front of our TVs at
home watching the first landing on the Moon – or, a few
years from now, on Mars – would not be enough.
Our
planning for the MDRS experience, though, was relatively
easy. The really hard work had already been done by Robert
Zubrin and Mars Society volunteers who designed and built
the Habitat (which we affectionately called the Hab) and
devised the whole Mars simulation program. Previous crews
had paved the way for us as we would pave the way for the
ones who followed.
And
so we arrived, following Route 24 west out of Hanksville
and turning right on Cow Dung Road to get to our new home
away from home, the Habitat in the desert.
We
felt we’d really arrived on Mars. Nestled between red mesas
and hummocks, the Hab sat in the twilight like the Mars
lander it’s designed after, portholes gleaming eerily, and
a red, green, and blue Martian flag hanging in one window.
And a “Welcome Crew 24” sign on the hatch.
Crew
23 had cooked a dinner for us of spaghetti with marinara
sauce. They gave us a quick tour of the Habitat, Greenhab,
observatory, vehicles, and EVA prep room. We learned how
to put on our spacesuits, how to fuel the generator, how
to get water into the inside tank and heat it, how to cook
without tripping all the circuit breakers, and how to communicate
with the outside world. In addition, Crew 23’s Health and
Safety Officer gave me, as Crew 24’s HSO, a quick lesson
on the remote telemedical system, a lesson I would need
before our rotation was up.
We
laid our sleeping bags out on the floor of the wardroom
(Crew 23 enjoyed their 4-foot-by-11-foot staterooms one
last night), and fell asleep to dreams of Mars. The next
day Crew 23 left, and we had all of Mars to ourselves to
explore.

These
sand formations could be on Mars, but they are actually
found in Utah. That is why Utah deserts are good substitutes
for Mars in Mars simulations.
Exploring Mars
Over
the next two weeks, we learned to navigate in the desert,
walked and drove on exploratory EVAs, collected rock samples,
made geophysical measurements, dug up mud which we measured
for water and mineral content, extracted DNA from peas,
learned more than we ever wanted to know about plumbing
and waste recycling, cooked for each other, wrote reports,
sang and watched movies together when we weren’t too exhausted
after our reports were turned in, and shared our knowledge
with each other.
We
also went through some hard times together. When one crewmember
had an accident while riding an ATV, our bond was cemented
even more strongly by that person’s needing help and by
our being able to help. (Because I was HSO, I’m not allowed
to write about the accident in any way that would reveal
that crewmember’s identity – but I can refer readers to
the crewmember’s
own account of the incident.)
Six
strangers became fast friends. This isn’t an inevitable
consequence of working together in a Mars analogue station,
as we later found out from other crews. But we six chose
to get along.

Two Mars scientists “visualize
whirled peas” in a science experiment.
Even
more important than the scientific research we accomplished
was the successful experiment in living together. We were
helped by our excellent commander, our united struggles
against the cold and alien desert, our common goals of simulating
the living and working conditions of the first scientists
on Mars, and our shared dreams of exploring space and moving
humanity beyond our current borders.
The
first Mars explorers and scientists will get there, and
survive there, with the help of many planners back here
on Earth, as well as the experiences of analogue researchers
like us. You don’t have to go to Mars to learn every lesson.
Lessons Learned
And
we learned a lot of lessons in the Utah desert. Here are
some of them, as reported a few days before we had to leave
the Hab:
Commander Digby Tarvin: Boredom is definitely not going to be a problem
on Mars for any crew that's as motivated as this one. Sleep,
maybe, but not boredom.
Kyoichi Sasazawa: I learned to appreciate the majestic
beauty of this area, the geology. I learned how to wear
a spacesuit. I made a lot of really good friends. I enjoyed
learning about the efforts of many people who aim to mount
a Mars mission.
Celeste Gale: I really am surprised how easy and
comfortable it has been to live and work together with five
total strangers and become good friends. I normally view
myself as an outcast so I find it very strange.
Bob McNally: There's nothing like working with a
highly motivated team of people who are committed to the
job and not to their image or their ego but just want to
work and are willing to work with other people to get something
good done. Nothing like it!
Diego Casa: The exploration of Mars doesn't have
to be done by superheroes. Any of us can do it if we're
really motivated.
Louise Wynn: I have found five new friends whom I
never would have met if I hadn't come here. I used to hate
grapefruit and now I really like it. I can make breakfast
out of practically nothing. I have seen examples of leadership
and camaraderie and teamwork that motivate and inspire me.
No
longer strangers but lifelong friends, we didn’t want to
leave at the end of our two weeks. We recognized that one
reason for this was simply that we weren’t bothered during
our crew rotation by our everyday, earthly worries and cares.
But mostly it was the shared adventure – and hardship –
that we would miss. And we learned that we have “the right
stuff,” a lesson worth going to the ends of the Earth, or
to Mars, to learn.