By Rodrigo Nascente Schmitt, Crew 306, Mars Desert Research Station
“Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst.”
Radiation, freezing cold, suffocation, starvation—on Mars, being prepared is no longer an option. It’s necessary.
During our twelve-day mission at the Mars Desert Research Station (MDRS), Crew Montes faced a planet that seemed determined to kill us. Nevertheless, we discovered that even a single Martian sunrise can make all the hardships worthwhile.
Our crew—Commander Jesus (whom we affectionately call Messiah), Geologist Elizabeth (Genie), Health & Safety Officer Ryan (Spy), GreenHab Officer Adriana (Murph), Engineer Keegan (Mr. Fix It), and me, Rod (Hermit), as Crew Journalist—came together with a common purpose: survive, explore, and contribute to humanity’s vision of eventually living and thriving on the Red Planet. What follows is the story of our trials and triumphs, told from one Sol to the next, revealing how we grew as scientists, explorers, and individuals throughout this analog astronaut adventure.
Sol 1 & 2: The Art of War Against a God
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Mars, the Roman God of War, showed us his ferocity the moment we arrived. In a world where every breath can be your last, one false step has dire consequences. We quickly realized that when confronting a veteran enemy—ruthless in its chill, radiation, and barren soil—our survival would hinge on unwavering teamwork.
On Sol 1, the simple act of stepping outside on an EVA was a lesson in vigilance. Each footfall brought home the idea that we were at war with an entity too immense to fully understand. Yet, like ants working together for a collective good, we combined our strengths. Messiah, our commander, guided us with confidence born from experience in a previous mission. Genie read the land as though she knew every rock by name. Spy protected us with real-time health tracking, while Mr. Fix It stood ready to repair torn suits or failing radios. Murph looked after our precious supply of green life, and I kept watch with my drone—hoping to glimpse safe landing sites for future explorers.
When Sol 2 dawned, we became more certain that no one person could prevail alone against the god of war. Humans, however, are a species defined by collaboration, and our synergy was on full display. Messiah searched for iron-rich soils so we might eventually forge our own power sources, keeping the Martian cold at bay. Murph experimented with growing plants and mushrooms under dire conditions to ensure that we wouldn’t starve in this cosmic desert. Mr. Fix It inspected the Hab’s fragile tunnels, mending whatever cracks Mars exposed. Everywhere we turned, the planet seemed poised to strike—but our collective will to endure proved a formidable defense.
Sol 3 & 4: Climb that Mountain
“Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind, and its opportunity for peaceful cooperation may never come again. But why, some say, the Moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain?” – JFK
On Sol 3, Christmas Day offered no respite from our trials on Mars. We learned that every mistake here can be fatal. The first flight of my DRONE faced fierce winds, snapping its 3D-printed mount; however, Mr. Fix It and Spy repaired it on the spot, and we re-launched it. As Messiah wrestled with a temperamental VR device, Murph and Genie tested contamination controls for delicate mushroom chambers.
Later, our crew ventured into the rugged hills. Sol 4’s trek up Hab Ridge with 30-pound packs pushed us to our physical limits. Although we collected valuable geological data and caught the faintest glimpses of Martian beauty, the real lesson was that such mountains—literal or symbolic—serve a deeper purpose. Perhaps the answer to JFK’s question, “Why climb the highest mountain?” is not despite its difficulty, but because it is hard, and because adversity shapes the kind of people we become. A smooth sea, after all, never made a skilled sailor.
Sol 5 & 6: Pathfinder
“Sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving… you will come to a better place.” – Uncle Iroh
On Sol 5, the question of why humanity should reach beyond Earth echoed in our minds. Space exploration is expensive and rife with dangers, and yet it feels like an invitation to a new dimension of possibility. I recalled astronaut Soichi Noguchi’s story of one-, two-, and three-dimensional ants confronting pebbles and walls, only to be saved by ants capable of moving in more dimensions. Going to space is not just about traveling up and down. It’s about unlocking the “third dimension” of problem-solving that helps us tackle challenges on Earth.
During our EVA to Skyline Ridge, we tested the DRONE repeatedly, testing a remote hotspot connection for data collection. Meanwhile, Genie dug into the subsurface for magnetic data, Messiah refined hematite to develop new ways of powering a future Martian settlement, and Murph’s mushrooms project promised a future where waste is recycled into food and materials.
Pathfinding took center stage on Sol 6, as our EVA team ventured deep into narrow openings at Eon Chasma, where communication became spotty and any misstep could have left them stranded. Meanwhile, I tinkered with DRONE software, all while fighting the dreaded “computer bug” without internet to help me. Such technical obstacles must be faced with the perseverance of NASA’s Pathfinder itself—blind to real-time Earth support, forced to operate autonomously in a harsh environment. Like that 1997 mission, we embraced adversity because forging a path forward is our only option.
Sol 7 & 8: To Build a Home
“I would say that failure to terraform Mars constitutes failure to live up to our human nature and a betrayal of our responsibility as members of the community of life itself.” – Robert Zubrin, founder of the Mars Society.
In 2012, the promised Mars One mission showed that tens of thousands of people were willing to go on a one-way trip to the Red Planet. On Sol 7, I felt that powerful call firsthand, as we struggled with the pressure of the desert sun with no water, a heavy spacesuit and a strenuous hike. The return trek became an arduous race against time, reminding us that sometimes the simplest question—“Why do it?”—can gnaw at our minds. For me, it’s about taking the next step, however small. This “stepping stones” mindset taught us that we must endure small victories (and losses) to build something grand.
Terraforming Mars, like the Mars One mission intended, might sound impossible, but if you look at the steps needed—raise global temperatures, create an ocean, boost oxygen levels—it can be seen as the ultimate engineering problem. On Sol 8, the crew returned to Eos Chasm under the unyielding gaze of the Roman God of War. Though the planet showed no hint of mercy, we dared to look past its intimidation. Messiah honed iron extraction methods, which could use in-situ resources for energy production in the future, and Genie continued studying the magnetism of the underworld towards radiation protection. These small steps could eventually contribute to the larger plan of building an entire Martian ecosystem that shields itself from solar radiation and self-sustainable production of energy and food.
Sol 9 & 10: Perseverance
“The master has failed more times than the beginner has even tried.” – Stephen McCranie
Being an astronaut is largely about pushing boundaries, both physically and mentally. Sol 9’s main challenge was dealing with all the “bugs” in our research processes. From a malfunctioning LIDAR assembly to limited iron extraction, each of us faced that frustrating “almost stuck” phase so central to scientific inquiry. However, breakthroughs often appear in the wake of discouragement. My personal frustration with my DRONE’s chaotic integration gave way to breakthroughs once I admitted how little I truly knew about the sensors. In the meantime, Messiah learned his iron-rich samples might not suffice for conventional solar cells but could be turned into a Martian battery system. In adversity, we found new solutions.
Then came Sol 10, a day of analysis and catalysis—where we paused, reexamined each snag, and found new ways to grow. Descartes once advised to divide each difficulty into smaller parts, and that is precisely what we did. By dismantling each problem, piece by piece, we could assemble stronger solutions. If Mars embodies war and chaos, then our willingness to adapt can become the shield that sustains us. Murph discovered new ways to manage low-gravity fluid behavior in her mushroom chambers, and my DRONE code advanced by rethinking the very sensors that had once given me headaches. In this war with Mars, each lesson learned was more valuable than any resource.
Sol 11: Never Tell me the Odds
“Forget about all the reasons why something may not work. You only need to find one good reason why it will.” – Dr. Robert Anthony
On Sol 11, risk loomed over us again, yet we pressed on. Spy’s research showed how frequently our bodies remain on the brink of fight-or-flight, reminding us that vigilance is not merely an evolutionary relic but a survival asset here. Mr. Fix It integrated CO₂ and temperature sensors for improved spacesuit safety, while Messiah’s iron extraction trials demonstrated a viable way of producing electricity.
For me, the day’s tension lay in the DRONE’s final outing, a single opportunity to gather more flight data. My code had been notoriously stubborn, yet with help from Spy and Mr. Fix It—plus a few careful checks of hardware datasheets—I finally got the GPS and accelerometer to talk to each other. Our subsequent EVA yielded nine flights that could someday guide autonomous landers to safer touchdowns on this hostile world. Even if the odds often feel stacked against us, a single path to victory is enough.
Sol 12: From Being to Becoming
“What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” – Henry David Thoreau
On Sol 12, we paused to reflect on what it truly means to go to Mars. We realized that while our scientific strides were meaningful—electromagnetic analyses of the Martian soil, mycoponics for waste recycling, iron-based energy systems, VR-based crew cognitive tests, sensor-laden spacesuits, and 3D drone mapping—our personal growth was even more profound.
Messiah loved those spontaneous moments when we orbited each other wearing hats, reenacting the Solar System. Genie recalled sprinting back to the Hab with her heart pounding after hours on an EVA. Spy savored the silent expanse of Hab Ridge, where the only solace came from the handful of crewmates by his side. Murph remembered the conversation with Messiah on representation in STEM that reignited her passion for teaching. Mr. Fix It marveled at how quickly the DRONE progressed from a clumsy prototype to a dependable reconnaissance asset.
For me, Hermit, the best moment came during that last EVA: I arrived from a successful flight test to find my crewmates dancing in front of a colossal Martian butte. That spectacle of pure joy against the planet’s rugged beauty reminded me that how detours really matter—oftentimes even more than the destination. We set out prepared to battle a world that wants to kill us, but we also found wonder, humor, camaraderie, and profound personal growth.
Mars demands a unique brand of perseverance, curiosity, and team spirit that might be our strongest advantage in conquering space. Someday, people will step onto the Red Planet for good, building habitats and forging new paths in unimaginable ways. If you ask Crew Montes, the future of humanity on Mars isn’t just about survival. It’s about discovering who we become when we rise to the occasion—even if it’s one breath, one sunrise, or one step at a time.
Hermit out.
