Driven by hunger, other wolves arrived, fearlessly stalking the men while they butchered the caribou on the ice and held off only by shooting another bold wolf. Mac wondered how so many wolves could survive such extreme weather.
Winter conditions finally improved allowing Mac and the Captain to regularly fish together. Jack and Tony built a weather enclosure on a sled which allowed two fishermen on the lake protected from the wind with a lantern to warm them.
Their luck on Old Man Lake improved dramatically. The Captain’s patience and a knack for the subtleties of fishing surprised Mac. Experimenting, the Captain discovered a new dipping technique using a blue tinted spoon which attracted fish. Trials using similarly colored lures also worked.
“New one on me,” Ahtna told the Captain. “You ought to show the others.”
Mac didn’t get the technique quite right at first. The Captain encouraged him showing how to use gentle jigging and subtle jerks to attract active trout hovering near the illuminated underside of the ice. They brought in a prodigious catch and bore new holes around the lake.
Jack seemed incapable of learning any technique. He truly despised fishing. He lacked patience and disrupted everyone else with his tromping about. He preferred blasting away at ice wolves or hunting anything. Finally, Ahtna suggested that Jack just stay off the lake. He was more productive and happier doing anything else in the company of Tony.
Another consequence of the frigid winter was the reappearance of grizzly bears. A sow with two yearling cubs had adopted the lake area as their territory. Fortunately for the fishermen, she feared the ice. But she followed the fishermen whenever they left the lake to clean fish or bring their catch to the lodge. They defeated her stalking by cleaning fish on the ice and stuffing viscera down a hole.
Following dinner, Onita, Tony, and Mac offered their plans for spring gardens. Onita explained her sketch of fencing and planting the perimeter of loamy soil around pothole lakes.
Ahtna said politely, “I’m sorry to discourage you, but that plan has a weakness. Bears and moose are going to raid your gardens. They love tender spring shoots. One whiff of your garden and nothing will keep them out. You can’t build a fence they won’t break. They’ll eat everything within reach.” Ahtna needn’t explain further. They all knew the power of hungry bears.
“Guess I’ve been thinkin’ of smaller critters… like bugs, birds, and the bunnies,” said Tony. “What about that greenhouse? Trouble up there, maybe?”
“Even the roof garden might have a problem. They’ll smell that, too. We need to block that stair on the back side; otherwise, they’ll easily climb up at night.”
Judy added, “A big garden is crucial. So how do we keep the critters away?”
“We can’t always keep them away, just discourage them. Someplace less attractive… like crossing a stretch of deep water.”
“What about that little island on the far side of the lake?” asked Jack.
“That’s not an island,” replied Ahtna. “There’s a neck to shore on the backside.”
“What about the barge?” asked Tony. “Anchor it in deep water, maybe?”
Onita asked, “How big is it?”
“About the size of two large trucks side by side,” Jack answered.
“Not enough,” she replied. “We need way more!”
“Gotta be a way. What if we built an island?” Tony thought big.
“First… a greenhouse,” said Onita. “We need to build frames for window glass.
“No rest for the weary,” said the Captain. “Least, not this year.”
53
Yukon River Bridge, January 12th. With an ulterior motive, Piquk requested the beds in the cabin be rearranged putting herself and her baby, and Cindy near the stove. Moving startled Piquk’s baby who howled with alarm until her mother began singing softly. Christie soon joined Piquk singing a rhyme in their native tongue as she gently rocked the baby to sleep.
Rearranging the beds allowed Lazlo and Christie to sleep together behind the canvas screen once more. Still too self conscious for lovemaking with others nearby, the couple snuggled and whispered softy.
“Piquk called you by a singing name I hadn’t heard before; what was that?”
“Laz, my Inupiaq name is Unalena.”
“Hey, I like that… it’s sexy. What does it mean?”
“I don’t really know. Some sanctimonious Anglo professor at the University of Fairbanks once told me it was a Greenland name that I shouldn’t use because it was a corruption of my native language. But so what if it was? My mother just liked it and so do I. So damned many diversity experts around the world to put just the right spin on things. It’s good to be finished with them.”
With such rare vehemence, Lazlo changed the subject. Lazlo pressed another question, “Why don’t we all discuss what we should do without Cindy’s airplane in the morning?”
“Laz, why don’t you have a little compassion for Cindy? She’s gone through a sad ordeal with her father, and that airplane meant a lot to them both. I think she’s getting past that, so do give it a rest for now.”
Wow! Two quick strikes. He wasn’t going for a third. Thank God Ernie had been leading that burial detail, he thought. “All right, later for that. Good night, sweet love,” and gently caressed her growing tummy. In response, she snuggled closer, and he was thankful for that.
Cindy brought up the subject at breakfast. She said, “I’m sorry to tell you that our charter flight has been grounded due to weather. So what now?”
Before Lazlo took up the subject, he glanced at Christie who subtlety shrugged her shoulders. Just to be safe, Lazlo asked, “Cindy, you willing to talk about this so soon?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“No reason by me. Just that things have gotten in the way so far.” Lazlo paused, embarrassed by his own gaff, but Cindy showed no reaction at all. He continued, “I assume Fairbanks is out. No one wants to risk passing through there, right?”
Ernie and the women nodded vigorously. Cindy said, “That place is way scary.”
Ernie added, “I won’t go there either. Anywhere else would be better.”
“Than even here,” asked Christie?
Lazlo started to answer, but Ernie interrupted, “Let me answer that, Laz… You have way too much baggage.
“Christie, I know you favor this place. You and Piquk are far better adapted than the rest of us. This cabin has been a life saver, but we’re running down our refuge. Except for meat, we’re nearly through our food staples, we’ve torn up half the deck for firewood, and our privies have blown away. With this cold weather, our equipment is deteriorating especially batteries. Soon, they won’t be any damn good, and by spring, the grizzly bears will be back. By summer, we’ll fight the bears for everything there is to eat… even the berries.
“So Christie, I think ‘why’ is obvious. The only questions left are when? And where? Both of those have real limited answers, don’t you think?”
“Fair enough,” said Christie, “just so long as we don’t go running off before we have a plan. No more impulsiveness.”
Pug asked, “You mentioned equipment, so have you picked any out? Lots of possibilities around here. I’d like to have a look.”
“Sure,” Ernie answered. “Laz and I have our eyes on a couple of military deuces out there. So that’s how. When should be obvious, especially if we have to travel on the river… before breakup to be safe… way before then so we don’t get stuck somewhere midway.
“So in my mind, it all comes down to where… and frankly, I’m with Laz on this. We have to go the long way around and the sooner the better. The options aren’t very good if we don’t go through Fairbanks. But we’ve already been through that.”
“I’ve heard it before,” said Christie, “but Pug and Cindy ha
ven’t.”
“Ernie and I have looked at maps for hours,” said Lazlo. “West of here, there’s no way across the mountains without blazing a trail most of the way. That might work following the river for awhile. East of here, the easiest way is through a low pass from Circle on the river, but that puts us back near Fairbanks. The only other way is clear to Eagle, then back over the mountains to Tok, then south to the interior or east into Canada. But from Eagle, there’s a tough road over the pass.”
“And by way of Top of the World Highway. They don’t call it that for nothing,” interrupted Ernie. “I’ve been there and you can see forever… but it’s a road cut high on the ridges all the way to Tok. It’s always closed through the winter, often later for good reason… until after the snow melts. The road itself ain’t too bad, though.”
Ernie fell silent, and for a long moment, no one said anything. Lazlo felt that Ernie had summed up the situation. He waited for discussion to begin. But knowing Christie, whenever she was in doubt, she didn’t throw her oar in the water unless pressed. She much preferred to listen.
It was Pug who asked the obvious question, “So… where are we going after Tok? That’s nowhere country.”
There it was again… the imponderable, thought Lazlo. Since Pug was looking his way for an answer, he began reluctantly. “Somewhere south… to better weather for farming and better living conditions. We’ll just take it as it comes.”
“Never been beyond Tok except to Canada…what’s it like?” asked Pug. Cindy had the same question and turned to Lazlo.
“Hey, I’ve been there only once for the weekend… to the Copper Valley from Valdez,” answered Lazlo. “Really scenic area… a few farms, lots of hunting and fishing… nice and rural…just one small town surrounded by spectacular mountains.
“There’s also British Columbia if we want better farming weather, but that’s a really long way off.”
Pug waited for Lazlo to continue and was surprised when nothing more was forthcoming. Instead, Ernie said. “I’ve been to the Copper River Valley, especially to the caribou preserves nearby when I was assigned there for a few months. It has a temperate climate… very high mountains, beautiful valleys, thousands of lakes and good hunting and fishing… but like Lazlo says, remote, rural, with just a few farms… the old Copper Valley mining district and just one town to speak of. Port of Valdez is over the mountains to the south. You couldn’t pick a more watered place than Glennallen. We should go look.”
“Good idea,” said Pug, “I especially like the sound of rural.”
“Are there really farms in Glennallen?’ asked Christie. “I’ve never heard of any.”
“A few grow hay and vegetables, but they’re scattered. Glennallen is mostly a tourist and government town at the intersection of two highways. If you want a good farm, the best place is the Matanuska Valley, just north of Anchorage. Must be hundreds of farms there.”
“I know the place… lots of good people there” said Pug, “but, they had food riots in Anchorage worse than Fairbanks and a couple of those towns in Matanuska can’t be much better. I’ll bet they’re living hand to mouth worse than we are. I’m thinkin’ they wouldn’t likely welcome more people, unless…”
“Unless they wanted slaves!” said Cindy vehemently.
“With everything so uncertain, we’d be guessing,” said Christie. “Where else?”
“Map’s simple,” replied Ernie. “West from Glennallen is back to Anchorage. Northeast is Tok or Canada, then across the Yukon for a thousand miles to somewhere in British Columbia that I know nothing about.”
“Glennallen makes sense to me,” said Pug, “Away from trouble.”
“And me,” said Lazlo, “But I suppose I really don’t know much about the place.”
“You haven’t said a word, Piquk,” said Christie. “What do you think?”
“I want to live in my village,” she answered sadly, “but I can’t. No one lives there anymore. All died. We looked. I go with you.” Ernie nodded in affirmation, having seen the village himself. With that answer, Christie felt the burden of her decision.
Lazlo asked, “Well then?”
“Dear Laz, I’m not ready to say. I’ll have to think about my answer.”
Lazlo was disappointed, but realized that Christie had to be comfortable with leaving, especially now with their expected baby. Nevertheless, he ventured to ask, “Then perhaps we should decide when leaving is best?”
“I’m not convinced of that, either. Think about this. The sooner we leave here, the longer we have to wait for the snow to melt over the pass beyond Eagle. It’ll likely be May or even June… five months from now. We don’t have any idea what conditions will be like in Eagle while we wait, but we do know what they’re like here. We’ve been through this before, Laz. We both nearly died. And now we have more at risk. We’re safe for the moment. Eagle might be a safe refuge… but we just don’t know.”
Lazlo accepted her thinking. Ernie was disappointed. “Five months is a double edged sword, Christie. Waiting that long might leave us stuck here. I think we ought to check our food and see how far into spring we can last. We’ll need to carry enough food and fuel to cross that pass in June, so before we eat everything waiting here, we should know what’s sensible… or even possible.”
“Guys, I’ll face reality and make a decision,” said Christie. “I always have.”
“Ernie, how much fuel would we need for such a trip?” asked Lazlo. “Any idea?”
“Got to admit, I haven’t. Depends on how many vehicles we drive.”
“Well then… looks like we have a little groundwork we should ‘a done.”
Pug was given a tour of the blockade and the ice crusted military encampment. On the pipeline map at headquarters, Lazlo traced their desperate trip over Atigun pass in the snowmobile, miserably exposed to storms. “This time, we need to travel in something heated and reliable. And Top of the World Highway may be worse than Atigun Pass. It’s much longer.”
Ernie explained that their best combination would likely be a military deuce and a humvee, equipped with weapons and towing trailers. They might consider substituting another truck for the more maneuverable humvee, but they needed a minimum of two stout military vehicles for the long trip. The humvee got far better fuel economy, would best lead the way, and could be used independently for scouting. Consequently, Ernie thought the humvee should go.
“I know Ernie’s the man with military experience,” said Lazlo. “But I remember that terrible trip over Atigun Pass like yesterday. We had to abandon lots of critical gear and paid the price riding on just one snowmobile all the way here. Then we found you… who rode alone on that freezing trailer, if you remember all that.”
“Do I ever…bad ride!”
“So… if we took two vehicles, and one broke down, all our gear and the seven of us wouldn’t fit in the other, would it?”
“No way,” replied Ernie. “We’d have to leave lots behind, especially if the deuce broke down.”
Pug had been listening attentively and said, “And then all our marbles would be in just one bag short of walkin’. We need backup going over that long pass.”
“Then I think we should take three vehicles,” said Lazlo firmly. “Shit happens.”
Returning to the river map on the wall, Ernie carefully measured the distance upriver. He realized that the route to Eagle was actually more like four hundred miles considering the meandering river. When they tried estimating the minimum fuel required for three vehicles as far as Glennallen, and assuming slow progress through the passes, they were astonished at four hundred gallons. Having no tanker, Ernie doubted they could assemble that much diesel in jerry cans from the entire military encampment.
Other problems emerged. Ernie’s trial estimate tallied four months of food, a week’s fresh water, cooking sto
ve and propane, Christie’s precious medical supplies, camping gear and clothing for seven people, the snow machine and sled, dry kindling, weather equipment including tents, cots, tarps, rope, spare batteries, spare parts, ammunition, dozens and dozens of jerry cans of fuel, and more.
“Two trucks don’t cut it,” said Ernie. “We need to get real!”
Traveling to Glennallen by the circuitous route of nearly seven hundred fifty miles was more difficult and Spartan than they had supposed. A trip into Canada was probably twice that. Unpredictable snow over the passes might block them all summer.
Lazlo said, “Dammit, we’ve been foolin’ ourselves big time.”
“Should ‘a started planning way back instead of sittin’ on my butt,” said Ernie.
Pug was optimistic. “With machines, there’s always a way.”
The men returned to the cabin for lunch, lost in conversation. Much to Ernie’s surprise, a hot meal was awaiting their arrival. Presently, Lazlo and Ernie related their discoveries of the morning and the newly anticipated difficulties of travel. They would put all else aside and concentrate on preparing to leave as they should have long ago. The three continued the debate, ignoring the ladies. When a pregnant silence descended, Lazlo looked up to find Christie staring crossly.
“Say what?” he asked.
“Sometimes, Lazlo… You’ve already missed the obvious message I left out there on the porch beside the door. We need a privy. That honey pot is intolerably unsanitary inside this cabin.”
The men looked at one another in surprise. Lazlo said, “Right… right. Life goes on. Guess we put that fun project out of mind. We’ll start right after lunch.”
Flight To Pandemonium Page 54