In Happy Isolation the World Turns Sour

As my classes wound down that spring I busied myself with preparations for the trip.  I had to take enough to sustain me for three months while traveling light by kayak. I planned very carefully where I would go and arranged for being flown in, flown out, and, if necessary, being rescued before the first classes began in the fall.  Once I had gathered up all my provisions and gear, I said goodbye to my parents in Mankato and to my sister in Stillwater, and a few friends, telling them I’d be out of touch for the summer—“Don’t call, email or text"—and flew out into my great adventure.  

I had a serious romance that lasted three years, but she left me for a nuclear submariner, so that was partly the reason for me wanting to get away into the wilderness to clear my mind of her memory and not be reminded every time I smelled her presence in my small apartment. While I was no stranger to camping in the wilderness, having done it all my life, I was by no means a survivalist. I  just wanted adventure and planned to “live off the land” as much as possible to conserve my provisions, but I never intended for them to last beyond August that year.  Little did I know.  So little did I know.

After flying to Thompson, Manitoba, I chartered a small plane with pontoons and an experienced bush pilot to fly me to the headwaters of a river in the boreal forest at the very edge of the tundra.  I had mapped out a course that would take me down river from there to a point, 100 miles west of Hudson Bay, to a fishing resort where I would be picked up on or about August 15.  Thanks to my G6 satellite smart phone, I had excellent digital filming capability, GPS, and even face time with my parents and sister, at least until my batteries failed.  I had two ways of keeping that from happening.  A one square foot foldable solar charger and a hand crank charger.  Two very useful, if not essential, devices.  I also carried matches and a cigarette lighter for starting fires quickly.  

The trip to the drop-off point went without a hitch, and, late on a brilliantly sunny afternoon, I was dropped on a small lake surrounded by stunted evergreens, with a small stream pouring out that would become my river of escape. Seeing a moose grazing near the edge of the lake was what I came here for. Eagles perched around the lake, opportunistically feeding.

It was the 15th of May, and the air still had the frosty breath of winter on it. Ice still edged parts of the shore.  I settled into a campsite on the lake, and immediately began catching fish—lake trout and arctic grayling.  By nightfall, which came quickly, I had a roaring fire, a tasty meal of fish and a pleasant, if somewhat, chilly by morning, sleep.  The next morning, I set off downriver in my kayak.

The two major obstacles to my journey were bears and mosquitoes.  I had prepared for both.  For the bears I had a pistol, a Rossi 357 Magnum stub nose with a box of fifty shells.  The gun was a bit heavy for my taste, but I needed it for my safety.  I always kept the gun loaded and holstered to my hip, because you never knew in heavy brush when you would come upon a bear and how the bear would react if surprised.  

As for the mosquitoes, I had gloves and a hat with mosquito netting, as well as mosquito netting for my bedroll.  I did not have a tent, only a tarp to keep the rain off.  Careful placement of mosquito netting kept them off me, although sometimes they drove me crazy in the night with their buzzing just outside the netting.  It wasn't until about May 20th that I ran into the mosquito hatch.  It wasn't bad during the day when I was paddling downstream with the kayak and the movement kept the mosquitoes from attacking.  Unfortunately, if I stopped to fish, eat or pee, they attacked immediately.  Some days there were clouds of them in the air, and they would brush against me as I floated along with the rapidly moving stream.  Until I got a smoky fire going, they harassed me at every camp.

But I'm not writing about the trip.  While the trip was eventful, it was what was happening in the rest of the world that is important and I must get down on paper before I forget or I'm gone.  Every evening on the journey, after I had eaten, and tucked myself warmly in my sleeping bag, I would take out my smart phone and do Face Time. First, with my parents to let them know I was still alive, and then, with my sister.  I say, “still alive,” because my parents thought my trip was foolhardy and very dangerous.  That's why I called them every evening to let them know that I had not befallen some calamity that would kill me before I could be rescued.  These chats were very short and consisted of basically, “Hello,” “How are you?”  And “I am fine.  No problems.  Love, Goodbye.” And they did not tell me what was really going on—I guess they were too afraid to.  I had to rely on my sister, Julie, for that.

It began at my second day's camp.  On a relatively high bank for that very flat land.  I chose the spot early because it started to rain and by the time I'd eaten some leftover fish from the day before, it was pouring and I was glad I was tucked in my sleeping bag under the tarp in a natural shelter of evergreens that kept most of the water off my tarp.  After informing my parents that I was alive, I called up Julie.  Immediately, she looked and sounded distressed.  When I asked her what happened.  She said, “The Stock Market crashed.”

I knew that the Stock Market was in trouble because of all the indicators before I left.  I had saved my money for the trip, so the only money I had in the stock market was in my small retirement account at the University.  “So, what's so bad about that?”  I asked.

“There are runs on many banks.  People are taking their money out.  Several banks have failed already.  I got gas on the way home from work, and the prices jumped 50 cents over the last time I bought gas.  I also stopped at the grocery store and everything was marked up 10% or more.  When I asked at checkout counter, the clerk told me that the chain was raising prices because they were afraid they would fail if they didn't.  Their wholesale prices were steadily increasing and shortages were beginning to appear.”

“That was happening before I left.”

“It's because of the drought.  They are saying that almost all the crops in Texas have failed this year.  Over 50% of the corn crop is already gone, and the wheat crop is nearly devastated as well. This follows all those years of drought in California.  The drought has reached all the way to the Boundary Waters north of here.  They say that wildlife in some areas is threatened by stagnant water in lakes that have never been so low.”

“I knew that.”  I wasn’t quite connecting the dots—denying.

"Water supplies for drinking in some areas of Texas and New Mexico have dried up completely and the lowest groundwater levels ever seen threaten much of the Midwest water supply.  We still have artesian water here in Stillwater.  But some communities don't already because their aquifer wells have dried up.  The St. Croix River is so low that it is barely flowing.  Fish are dying in the shallows for lack of oxygen.  The crows and eagles are having a field day on all these dead fish.”  There was a strain in her voice that was telling in spite of her forced smile.

  “There is no shortage of fish here.  I catch a 2 to 3 pounder every time I cast with artificial bait.  Makes it easy to get a meal.  The streams are full and flowing and the lakes are full of life.  I'm seeing moose, ducks and geese, beaver and otter, eagle and osprey, and bear, at a distance.  So far it's wonderful, even though it's raining right now, and it hasn't been too cold.  I'll check in with you tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay.  Goodbye.  I love you.”  The tremor in her voice was obvious.  Julie was scared.

I tried not to think about it, but each day when I called, my parents put up a good front, and didn't say anything or said that everything was fine.  Okay.  Nothing to worry about.  But with Julie it was different.  Each day brought a new problem worse than the last.  There was a complete economic collapse that neither the President nor the Congress could do anything about.  The economic collapse traveled around the world like lightning and affected every business.  The resulting chaos led to widespread looting, as everyone seemed to try to gather up as much survival supplies as they could manage.  Not only were store shelves empty in many stores, trucks were being held up on the highway, and warehouses were being broken into and all their goods taken. 

Most states had called out the National Guard, but many of the volunteer soldiers were not showing up, saying they had to protect their families.  People were openly carrying guns in the street and they were being used more and more for robbery and protection from robbery.  Things were rapidly devolving and nothing seemed to be able to stop it.  It was both dreadful and amazing to see how quickly civilization broke down when people were in distress.  

In a way, I was glad I was in the wilderness and out of it all.  Just watching on CNN on my smart phone was enough.  I'm sure there were many others like me, but so many lived in the cities, and the cities were becoming hellish places to live.  The countryside also became difficult because of roaming gangs of young rebels who took advantage of the situation to play out their own form of guerrilla warfare.

Within two weeks, I came upon taller trees and more hilly terrain.  It was a welcome change.  It was also welcome to find a 30 inch northern hitting my lure instead of the grayling.  It was windy and cool.  A front had come through.  When it was windy there were no mosquitoes and few biting flies.  The deer flies were worse than the mosquitoes in the daytime.  Around noon I had stopped at this beautiful little place to fish and recharge my equipment with the solar panel. 

I still had the Internet and the news wasn't good.  It seems that no one, neither Julie nor the Internet news could tell me, had compromised the power grid, putting most of the United States without power.  The result was catastrophic.  It was only June 1st, and already dry conditions and high temperatures had caused countless wildfires.  

Without electricity, it only took about five days for the reports of death to start rolling in.  Over 95% of the population was in peril for lack of drinkable water, gasoline for their vehicles, and food.  They started dying by the thousands.  Every night when I called my parents, living with a home generator for electricity, tried to remain upbeat, but I could hear desperation in their voices.  

Four or five days later, I don't remember exactly, when I called, there was no answer. My telephone satellite was still working, but I had no idea if they were still at home or had tried to seek shelter elsewhere.  They both had cell phones and the fact that I couldn't reach them scared the hell out of me.  I was in the middle of nowhere and could do nothing.  It was frustrating. I was helpless.

When the power went out, Julie was living in a rented house.  That night when I called her, she was very frightened.  “Are you okay, Julie?”

“I'm scared.  The folks have a generator and I should go to see them, but they're not answering and I'm afraid I'll get stopped by roadblocks or bandits trying to drive there.  Frankly, I don't know what to do!”  She started crying on the phone.  It was obvious she wasn't prepared for what was happening.

“Okay, okay… Calm down.  Together, let's think of something.  Remember when we used to go camping?  Gather up all the camping gear you can locate, and any food and supplies that you can put in the car, and tomorrow, before first light, drive on up to Uncle Wilson's cabin on Turtle Lake.  You know he would like your company and he has been subsisting there for so long that he can keep the both of you alive until I get there.  I know he's got a generator that he rarely uses and a well that can be hand pumped for water.”

“Thank you.  Bless you.  In my confusion I haven't thought of Uncle Frank.  I sure hope he's all right.  I'll leave before dawn and take the back roads.  I should still have plenty of gasoline in my tank after I get there.”

“Take all the food you can, and if you can find food along the way. Stores won't have electricity and may be selling perishables.  Buy as much as you can because you'll need it.  Everything else, Uncle Frank can provide.  Do you have a gun?”

“I never told you, but I took pistol training about five years ago and have a small pistol that I've been keeping in my purse ever since things started to get bad around here.  I'll keep that by my side and loaded in the car in case I run into anything on the road.”

“Okay, we have a plan.  If you run into trouble and can still call, please do, any time of the day or night and I'll try to help you if I can.  Take care and stay safe.  I'll be coming for you.  Look for me sometime in the fall.  In the meantime, let's keep up these conversations until the bastards turn off the satellite.  Have to close now.  Save your battery.  Bye, I love you.”  It seemed strange.  I'd never said that before to her.

“I will.  Bye, I love you, too.”

About seven thirty the next morning, just as I was about to leave camp, the phone rang.  A shudder ran down my back.  She's in trouble, I thought.  An excited Julie came on the line.

“I made it!  I made it!  I'm at the cabin now.  Like you told me, I got up around 4 am, got everything packed and left about 5 am.  The streets were so dark without streetlights it was very eerie, but I know the roads well and everything was quiet for about a half-hour until I was on 70 headed east when a car pulled out behind me and began following. 

"I got so scared.  I ran down the window, picked up the pistol at my side, reached over my shoulder out the window and fired a shot at the car behind.  Almost lost control of the car after I did it, hitting the shoulder of the road before pulling back on, but the car behind me stopped following and I pulled onto a side road and hid in a driveway for a while.

"And then, I got the shakes—real bad.  Fifteen minutes later, I regained my composure and slowly idled with my headlights off to 70 again.  I couldn't see lights in either direction, so I eased out on the highway again.   I only passed a couple of cars before I took the county road into Indianhead Country.  When I got to the county line there was a roadblock with two sleepy deputies, just about dawn.  They told me they weren't letting anyone into the county because so many gangs were coming out of the Twin Cities and robbing and looting people.  That night they had already arrested two carloads and had turned away several other cars. 

"When I told them where I was going, they let me through and told me to 'Take care.' Everybody in the county knew Uncle Wilson.  A half hour ago at The Corners, the owners of the little store there were dragging out and selling all their perishables, so I bought some frozen meat, cheese, milk, and a bag of flour.  Got a case of beer for Uncle Frank. They were glad to take my money because they knew if bad guys came they would be looted or robbed and could do nothing about it.  Uncle Frank is here, do you want to see him?”  Frank's beard and ruddy cheeks came into view.

“Hi Uncle Frank.  How are you?”

A gruff voice answered, somewhat hesitantly. “I'm fine.  This electricity stuff don't bother me much. Storms knock out electricity all the time.  Sure was surprised to see Julie, but I'm glad she's here.  Will keep me company.  Looks like the world is going to hell.  When did you say you were going to get here? Sure hope your folks are all right.  They should be here, too”

“I'm worried about my folks, too.  Lost contact with them.  I'll try to get there in the fall.  You take care of my little sister, okay?”

“You bet I will.  I'll take care of Julie for you.  That's for darn sure.”  With that, Uncle Frank Wilson hung up.  He wasn't much for talking over phones.

Frank Wilson, my Mom’s older brother, was a small-town mechanic who spent most of his limited free time at his little cabin deep in the woods on a remote area of Turtle Lake.  A bachelor, Frank liked it like that, and, set back from the water, his place was hard to find at the end of nearly 5 miles of fire trail through heavy timber.  And, it was far enough from the lake with only a little wooden dock and boathouse to give away that there was even a cabin there.  It was an ideal hideout and I was glad for that.  Besides, both Frank and Julie were very resourceful and could fend for themselves there in the woods. But that's ancient history now.