Heidi Conn drove up on a motorcycle and told the camera a bit about herself.

Cherie Garnett sent in footage that showed her racing stock cars and cutting wood.

My husband, Israel, dressed our dog as Superman and went outdoors, in the snow, stripped to his boxers.

Sporty, spunky, slightly revealing – just not enough to land on “Survivor.”

Thousands of people send in that 10-page application and three-minute video hoping to fill one of the coveted spots each season (18 this time around) on the reality show.

Until this season, only one Mainer had been chosen, Zoe Zanidakis. The sun-kissed sea captain who made it to week 9 (out of 13) had never seen an episode before she applied.

But she did something right to catch the producer’s eye.

Now, so has Julie Berry.

The 23-year-old Lewiston native is on the ninth series, “Survivor: Vanuatu,” which kicks off Thursday. Mum’s the word from her until CBS viewers watch her get kicked off or win.

Making it onto the show is a four-step process: Most people who send in material hear nothing back. Those who do advance to an interview (In our region, that’s done in Boston). The third step is two weeks in California and, from there, Mark Burnett picks the cast to spend six to eight weeks in an undisclosed location.

There’s a huge time commitment with no guarantee of payback. Plus: tons of lying to friends, family and work about exactly what you’re up to.

Heidi Conn from Turner has applied six times. A guidance counselor at Edward Little, she made it to the interview stage once, in the fall of 2002 for “Survivor: The Amazon.”

It was so hush-hush she couldn’t breathe a word of it to her own kids. Conn toted along a phone-book-size stack of waivers to Boston. The gist: I won’t tell anyone and I won’t sue.

Her interview lasted about 20 minutes, with a woman asking questions and a man videotaping. She passed other would-be contestants in the hall.

“I remember one guy, he was adorable, I thought they were going to pick him,” Conn said.

She got a rejection letter in the mail two weeks later. A trim, athletic woman, she thinks maybe it’s her smile – everyone on the show has such perfect teeth.

But the 49-year-old Conn thinks her chances of finally getting on the show improve with age. The feedback from friends just for trying has been fabulous.

“It’s so self-affirming. When people say, ‘Heidi, why didn’t they pick you? CBS doesn’t get it.’ That part is worth it all,” said Conn.

Mary Ellen Carrier, 29, sent in an application this summer for the show that will air next spring.

The Rumford woman describes herself as a picky eater – she won’t do fish or rice, two staples on the show – and she’s “not really the outdoorsy type.”

“I just wanted to prove to my family and friends that I can survive for 39 days,” says Carrier.

Her three young children loved the idea of Mom being on television. She’s been looking online for another chance to apply.

“I wish I knew what they were looking for,” she said. “I just try to put down everything unique about myself.”

Cherie Garnett of Lisbon Falls applied for the same series as Carrier. Her husband, Greg, had encouraged her for a long time.

“I’ve got that quiet kind of go-along-without-causing-trouble personality,” said Garnett, 46. “I am good in the outdoors. I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty, I’m not a girlie girl.”

On her application, she listed duct tape, rope and a camera as three items she’d like to be stuck with on an island: “You can make anything with duct tape and rope, even a hammock.”

She’ll probably try again also.

Conn knows she will, already warning friends: “If I ever disappear, I would lie to you to your face, but you’ll know, you’ll know where I’m going.”

She added that, “I’d love for you to do a follow-up in five years, ‘How my life has changed since I won a million bucks.'”

As for Israel, he’s not interested in applying again. He’d tried to make the series that airs this fall. “I’ll make my million, it’ll just take longer than 39 days,” he says.

Too much in need of indoor plumbing to try out for the show myself, I would have loved to be one of the spouses dangled before contestants as a prize, a ritual toward the end of every season.

But hey, at least we both applied for and got our passports out of it – another requirement.

And the dog’s happy – his Superman duds are stored in the closet until Halloween.