I went on a trip with my friend Boogie, a few years ago, to his cabin, about 75km from Tuktoyaktuk. We were travelling by Ski-Doo. After staying overnight at the cabin, we rode another 70km to Inuvik to pick up supplies with our komatiks (sleds). After loading up, we headed back for the cabin. At one point Boogie stopped and suggested I lead for a while. I would look back frequently to make sure he was following. When looking back about an hour later, I discovered he wasn't there. I stopped and waited. And waited... and waited... I finally decided to turn around and backtrack. He was nowhere to be found. I returned to my original position and waited again, about an hour.
Before leaving for the arctic I had watched the movie "Lost in the Barrens", an account of the adventures of two boys who became separated from their party, lost in the endless, featureless tundra and lakes of the high north. My mind now raced back to that movie and a wave of terror swept over me. I was lost in the barrens, with no guide, completely alone in a hostile and unfamilar place. "Dear God, I could die up here, and they'll find me as a frozen popsicle in a few years, or what's left of my carcass after the wolves finish with it." After a few minutes I decided I really needed to get a grip and calm my mind. I took inventory of my situation. I had five gerry cans of gas, or five days of travel with my Ski-Doo. Yes, but in which direction? I could make the situation much worse by travelling the wrong way. I had the sled and tarp, which I could flip over to build a make-shift shelter. I had a 20ga shotgun and three shells, not much good against Polar Bears, except perhaps to hasten my end by pissing them off. I had $3,000.00 of food on my sled. I wouldn't die of starvation, at least. I'd be nice and fat when the Polar Bears happened upon me.
The sun was setting and the chill of the arctic night was creeping into my bones, even through my thick parka. I had to keep moving. And then I remembered some advice my Inuit boss, Jimmy, had given me, one night while we were stranded in his cabin during a fierce storm. He told me that if I was ever lost, I should trust the spirits (instinct, sixth sense). "You close your eyes, then turn round, maybe ten times. When you think you face home, you mark the snow with your heel. You keep your eyes closed and do it again; maybe five times. Each time you make the mark in the snow. You open your eyes. If the marks mostly point the same way, then the spirits show you which way you go. You watch the sastrugi (drift marks) so you stay on course." I figured I had nothing to lose. Sure enough, the marks were pretty much all pointing the same way. I revved the Ski-Doo and headed off in the direction my heel marks had pointed. An hour or more passed. All I could see was the narrow shaft of my headlight on the snow, my eyes focused on the direction of the snow drift patterns.
And then, I could see another headlight, coming in my direction across a lake. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Whoever it was, they could help me get back to Boogie's cabin, or home to Tuk. It was Boogie. "Whoa, you get me worried I have to call your mother and explain how I lose you and I never find you again. Lucky thing I keep looking for you, huh?" As we were about to travel, I had to ask, "So, was I heading in the right direction?" "Yeah, you heading for the cabin. You do okay for a white man."
The next day I drove my Ski-Doo off a cliff, but that's another story. (To be continued tomorrow)