Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us,
And the Wild is calling, calling . . . let us go. Robert Service — The Call of the Wild
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Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us; Let us journey to a lonely land I know. There's a whisper on the night-wind, there's a star agleam to guide us, And the Wild is calling, calling . . . let us go. Robert Service — The Call of the Wild |
Wednesday, July 25, 2012.
| Woke at 8:40am. Today is a rest and return day – we fly back to Ram Head headquarters this evening. The plan is to call Stan on the Sat phone at noon to confirm our 5pm pickup. Around noon we start to get serious about packing stuff up. The campfire is submerged in tens of gallons of water, the stones are scattered, any debris that didn't burn is collected, the ashes scattered, the charcoal crushed and then everything is randomly covered in sticks, stones, and dirt. The evacuation plan is to send Phil and Sandy back first with their gear, and Steve and I will leave on the second trip with our survival gear and a little food. And fishing tackle. If the weather deteriorates we will bivouac an extra night. Plus, we get to hang around and fish! |  |
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Well, the weather did deteriorate. When Megan and the R44 arrived around 6pm it was spitting rain. We got Phil, Sandy and their gear loaded and Megan took off for mile 222, a reprovisioning post on the Canol trail about fifteen air miles from our lake. Megan planned to drop Phil & Sandy off there, where Stan would rendezvous with his 180 and fly them back to Ram Head. Meanwhile, Megan would try to get back in to us and then fly us out the Hess river. By the time Megan got back to us it was raining fairly hard and the clouds were dropping. Steve rode shotgun and I took the backseat. For me it was a bumpy, white-knuckle ride all the way back. But evidently it was no big deal for either Megan or Steve. |
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