Report: `My parents had me kidnapped' Drugs kids forced to survive at a desert boot camp.

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Byline: Elaine LipworthA group of teenagers, sunburned and scruffy, are cooking porridge over a campfire. Sleeping bags and clothes are scattered around them as they sit on the sandy desert plains of southern Utah, miles from any sign of civilisation. At first glance it looks like an ordinary camping trip, except that nobody appears to be having fun.In fact, most of the kids are here because their parents paid for them to be abducted and brought to Utah kicking and screaming from all over the US.`The police arrested me because I was fighting my mum,' says 15-year- old Rachel Rempel from Chicago, as she rolls up her sleeping bag. `I was picked up from the police station by a guy and girl, who I found out later had been sent by my mum. Then at 4am the next morning, we got a plane out here. I arrived at midnight, then they strip-searched me and I had to change into this uniform. Then, blindfolded, they drove me to join the group. It was scary and I was angry because my mum knew all about it and hadn't told me anything. I hated her.'Rachel stirs an unappetising cup of porridge in a tin mug and starts to eat. `It's oatmeal and water,' she says. Small and dark with plaits and glasses, she's been here for three weeks, and wears the bandanna, red sweatshirt, standard khakis and weathered hiking boots that are part of the uniform. She freely admits that her behaviour drove her parents to take extreme measures, which is why she is here. `I was doing drugs and I was depressed. I didn't care about anything, I never listened to my parents and I'd leave home for days and not call.'All the kids in this group have emotional or behavioural problems and have abused drugs or alcohol. Some have eating disorders and many have been expelled from school for various crimes.Running away from here is not an option. They are stuck at the RedCliff Ascent Wilderness Treatment Program - a rigorous survival boot camp for problem teenagers. Parents pay pounds 5,000 a month (though health insurance companies sometimes foot the bill) for their offspring to stay between 60 days and six months to learn about survival and regain a sense of value, perspective and normality in their lives.There are 40 students at any one time, split into small groups, and the course is tough. There are rules: no singing songs with inappropriate lyrics, listen to staff and obey instructions, ask before doing anything or going anywhere and, of course, no sex. Students rarely break that rule, even though they camp together - they're too busy getting through each day.`We're just spoilt rich kids who take drugs,' laughs Austin Smith, 16, who knew he'd reached the end of the line when he threatened his mother with a knife. Another, Chris Pinkston, 15, from Texas sighs: `I miss my music, rock like Led Zepellin,' he says. `And pizza and cheeseburgers. I took things for granted - like freedom and a warm bed.'Here, the groups hike all day and set up camp somewhere different every night. They make fires by rubbing sticks, build their own shelters and cook their own meals. There are no showers or toilets - they dig latrines and get water from ponds, which they have to purify before drinking. They don't have rucksacks or tents and carry their sleeping bags, clothes and food rolled up in a tarpaulin, on their backs. It doesn't matter if the temperatures are sub-zero or soaring into the nineties, they always sleep outside. It's a far cry from the former lives of these teenagers, many of whom sold drugs and partied non-stop.When Lindsay Keith arrived in January, it was bitterly cold. The 15-year- old has learning difficulties and was sent to Utah for hanging around with gangs and stealing. `I did drugs and stole from my parents and from stores. My parents don't want me to end up in jail, so they put me here,' she says. `The first few days the pack was heavy and it was snowing - I thought I was going to die.'Now, after four months the blonde teenager is effectively group leader and proficient in camping skills. Through good behaviour she's won the privilege of having her own knife and a real rucksack, which makes hiking much easier. `I've learned a lot, I control my anger now. I don't want to go back to my old friends, I won't lie or sneak around.'Lindsay is a success story, but controversy rages in America about the course's `tough love' approach. `It's hard being out there,' says clinical director Daniel Sanderson. `We're taking them out of their comfort zones.'Each of the teenagers is assessed when they arrive and their psychological progress monitored with regular therapy sessions. `This isn't just an experience for the kids to climb a couple of peaks and write some essays about nature,' says Sanderson. `We try to find the underlying difficulty that made them avoid the business of life before they came here. We give them the emotional experience to know what it feels like to live in a responsible manner.' Not all the kids forcibly transported to RedCliff are willing to adapt, however. It's early afternoon and the group are practising making fires, a skill that requires patience and persistence. `I'm still trying to make my first fire,' says Rachel wearily as she crouches on the ground rubbing sticks together. The wood starts smoking and there's a brief spark, but the flame dies and Rachel sighs. After an hour she gives up.Austin is now a skilled firemaker. He says it gave him a huge boost: `I'm trusted now. By making fires and other camp skills you prove that you're responsible and you really feel like you've achieved something.'Heather Harshman, 15, sits on a blanket refusing to budge. She was sent to RedCliff for drug abuse and underage sex. Months after arriving, she still hasn't made a fire. `I don't care, I don't care about anything,' she says. Chris Goldston, her counsellor, instructs her to get moving, while another cajoles her more gently. She just stares into space combing her thick reddish hair then plaiting it. `I have a stomach ache,' she says quietly.`We know she's making excuses,' Chris says. `It's her way of getting out of camp jobs. She tells a lot of lies. She wets herself and defecates when we're hiking to hold back the group.' Heather looks sad and lonely. `At this moment I feel like attacking somebody but I'm not going to,' she mutters. `My stomach hurts and I wet myself because I have a yeast infection.' The staff raise their eyebrows. Heather's had a medical examination and there's nothing wrong.Like well over half the teenagers at RedCliff, Heather comes from a broken home. She lives with her mother and stepfather in Dallas. `It's not that bad here,' she says. `I like the fact that it makes you a stronger person.'Minutes later she's refusing to help tidy up. There's a row and as a `consequence' (RedCliff's alternative to punishment) the whole group has to walk around the campsite with their heavy packs on for half an hour.At 5pm, I sneak off to sit under a tree with my back to the group, to eat a chocolate biscuit. At RedCliff there's no lunch, only snacks of sunflower seeds, so everyone's starving. One of the kids spots me: `What's that? Chocolate? Can we lick the wrapper?' Everyone crowds round. I feel guilty and rebellious. It makes me want to give them secret treats, but the staff insist: if they stick to the rules they're more likely to make positive changes in their lives.Each of the kids has weekly rations, but if they wolf down their peanut butter or raisins on day one they must make do with rice, lentils, flour, potatoes and a little fruit, cheese and meat.Rachel is cleaning her feet, raw from miles of walking with blisters. `Every single toe has a big ball on it and both my heels are torn up. It's pretty painful to walk but I just keep going because if you stop you're in trouble.' In single file, the students start the long trudge to the next campsite. It all looks the same, an endless expanse of stark, arid scrubland. Heather trails behind.Rachel strikes up conversation: `I live with my mum in Chicago, and my dad, he's an architect in New York,' she says, out of breath. `Nothing I do is good enough for him. I don't get along with my mum but now I realise I fight with her because my dad's never there and I'm actually angry at him.'At 8pm, we're still hiking. It's pitch black; torches aren't allowed. We're on our way to drop Heather off - she's leaving as a `consequence' for holding the group back. The next day they're beginning an arduous 70-mile three-mountain hike, and the instructors are worried she won't make it. Heather won't be told she's joining the remedial group until we reach their campsite, in case she refuses to walk. She's already spent a month in remedial, where teenagers with more severe problems get special attention - but no privileges.At 10pm we meet the group leader, Camille, who's waiting at the side of the road. Heather starts to wail. `I don't want to go back,' she sobs, but is eventually persuaded. Our group watch in silence then move on, keen to reach our next stop and cook the evening meal of lentils with rice. All the kids have lost weight, and are much fitter than when they arrived - most lived on junk food.Half an hour later, exhausted, we set up camp. It's the best part of the day for the students, who sit eating and chatting around the campfire. Nobody mentions Heather as they talk about the future - when they leave RedCliff. It's impossible to tell how successful they'll be, or how much support they'll get at home, but they're all determined not to go back to their old lives.`When I go home I want a better relationship with my mum,' says Rachel. `I realise I was like one of the girls you see on TV in Clueless, quite the brat.' `I always wanted to be a drug dealer,' admits Austin, who's lying on his back, gazing up at the stars. `Now I want to go to college, work here for the summer and one day be a meteorologist. I don't need to impress anyone anymore, I can just be myself.'Next morning it's hot by 9am. In the distance the mountains are covered in snow, the hills carpeted with pine trees and mustang horses graze nearby. The group set off on their hike while Heather sits with the psychologist under a juniper tree. `I always wanted to die young,' she says in a tiny voice, prodding a twig into the ground. `Now I hope I don't die because I'd like to be a horse trainer or artist, but I may already have jinxed myself.' `If you were working here, what advice would you give yourself?' asks the therapist. `To shape up and gain a little respect for myself,' Heather replies.CAPTION(S):From far left: Rachel struggles to make a fire; Heather eats breakfast off a spoon she carved from a piece of wood; the daily hike; the group goes by the name of Buffalo Clockwise, from top left: Chris writes his diary; Rachel's feet after days of walking; Heather's behaviour earns her a spell in the remedial group; the end of another hard day