The Long Haul

There was a lot to do inside during the long, cold winter. In addition to cleaning up over 20 years of neglect, I had to rewire all the electrics because the mice and squirrels had chewed through most of the wiring. I got everything working within a month to my satisfaction before it became so dark that the solar panels no longer provided any energy and I relied on the windmills exclusively that still put out plenty of power, especially during blizzards.

The chainsaw had allowed me to put up enough wood for the winter. I was frugal and didn't use all of the wood, but rather concentrated on piling on the blankets that were not too moth-eaten at night and dressing warmly with layers from the ample clothes that were there from many hunters who had left them before I came. I was especially grateful for the boots… Some that were not chewed by rodents and fit me, rubber ones with insulated lining.

I had arrived with only a light summer extra set of clothes. I skinned everything that I shot and began brain curing the pelts for added warmth and clothing that I could make… Although I was not the best at sewing, I could make things warm, but it was hard to make things that were waterproof. The boots and waders that I found would have to do that. I patched the holes and rips.

I alternated with playing games, puzzles and reading some of the books from the library. And, of course, writing this story on my faithful, the very old, laptop. I kept backing it up because I didn't know when it would finally fail. I knew that everything would fail eventually and I wouldn't be able to fix it. Electronic devices were  something that was impossible for me to fix. Why I had so many backups.

I went outside during the winter whenever I could. I set a few traps and caught a few marten, mink, ermine (weasels in winter), lynx, fox and wolverine. Snares got me a few snowshoe hares to alternate with my moose meat diet. Grouse and ptarmigan were also plentiful and easy to shoot in the snow with my retrievable bolts on my crossbow. Rocky always enjoyed going with me out in the deep snow, leaping through the snow to make headway while I walked on top with snowshoes. The exertion sure tired him out. When we would return home to the lodge, he would immediately curl up to sleep in front of the fire.

When spring came the whole landscape erupted with life. I put duck and geese on the table when they returned to the lake as soon as it thawed. I spent a good time preparing the greenhouse excellent crop and got one in as soon as I could so that I would have green leaf vegetables once again. That first year, I planned to be able to grow enough to have a store for a bad winter or two. I had learned to plan ahead for the unexpected. Thinking about all that food I had left behind in my travels and missing the variety.

One day in early summer, while working in the yard, Rocky suddenly growled and alerted me to something wrong, I turned around and caught a polar bear sneaking up behind me about 30 feet away and about to pounce out of the corner of my eye. It was a standoff between the three of us as I slowly and carefully pulled my 357 Magnum from its holster and as quietly as I could and released the safety.

Turning slowly a bit more, I aimed for the chest of the bear and pumped off a shot before it pounced. That huge bear did, and I fired the last five shots in rapid order, the last one between the eyes of the beast in the air about 10 feet from me and about to take another bound when it crumpled, hitting the ground in front of me and then piling up on me, dead.

I couldn't stop shaking as I felt hot blood dripping down on my face from its wounds. Rocky was barking and nipping at the animal, but still keeping his distance as though it may still be alive. I gradually pulled myself out from under the animal's huge body barely able to stand, still on very shaky legs and wondering what would've happened had he been able to swat me with one of those paws and rip me with those massive claws.

It was a male, but rather thin. Still, he measured 8 feet tall. And, his coat was still quite good. I skinned him for the fur and for some of the bear meat. I had one ATV running and hauled the rest of the meat about  mile away where I knew that predators would find it. I really hated to waste meat, but there was no way that I could keep it without smoking or drying it and I knew there was a lot more where that came from. With my weapons, I was the top predator, although always in danger of losing my spot in the food chain. That bear scared me more than any other scare I had in all those years. Had to stay alert, and prepared.

Hot summer came quickly, first with the mosquito hatch, and later, with deer and horse flies. I couldn't go naked and enjoy the sun except when out swimming in the lake with Rocky. I could always duck underwater to avoid the pesky insects as they tried to land on me and take their drop of blood or bit of flesh as my contribution to their life cycle. While working, I had to wear a hat and netting even on the hottest of days… Longsleeve shirts and gloves to prevent them from biting me on my hands and arms.

I could also escape the bugs by sailing on the lake and I often did that just for the enjoyment and sometimes catch and release fishing because I had all the fish I needed right off the dock. Life was good and just watching wildlife was a real joy as I saw many youngsters among the survivors of the winter before coming out in the sun and learning how to live in an, always dangerous, environment.

Baby ducks and loons on the lake. Songbirds with nests of hungry, noisy chicks in the trees. Baby squirrels out for their first climb on the trees. Young foxes following their mother hunting along the lake. And once in a while, a fawn with its mother would come out of the brush or I would see a baby moose following its mother through the willows, feeding.

I continued to ramp up my electricity production and storage as much as I could from what was available. I got some of the vehicles running, but knowing that the gasoline and fuel oil supply was deteriorating, contaminated and limited, I used those motors very little, just kept them in working order in case I needed them, like the chainsaw. With a still, I made some high proof alcohol to spike my fuel and make it run cleaner.  With berries, made some good brandy, too.

Once in a while, I would make the trek to the aluminum canoe at the river and go sailing and camping for a few days. On those trips I saw many bear, and watched how the black bear, grizzly and polar bears interacted. There were fights and evidence of bear killing bear along the shoreline. But there was plenty of game for them to eat. They just had to catch it. Once again, I was amazed at the variety of birds on the river and I saw otters playfully enjoying catching fish along the shoreline. And there were seals. Come up from Hudson Bay. I even saw pods of dolphins occasionally.

By midsummer, most of my crops were already in, but there were always plenty of berries to pick. Unfortunately, bears also liked the berries and I had to be very careful in the thick brush not to come upon a mother bear and cubs again like I did in Oregon. My bear deterrents were nearly depleted, so I had to rely more on the 357 Magnum reloads to protect me. Firing off shots to scare, not to kill. Cow bells were a deterrent, and Rocky had one on his collar—sometimes getting caught in grass and brush to his discontent.

Those first years back were  bountiful, productive and sustaining. I was beginning to relax, knowing that I had chosen a good place to retire and no longer travel with all the promise and perils that brought. The long winters allowed me to refine my story. So much I had forgotten that the notes, pictures and videos revived for me. Some were very sad like the ones I took with Charlie and Lisa. I cried when I saw them again. I tried not to look at them but once a year or so. The memories were still too painful.

Fifteen years later.

I am writing this with a ballpoint that I found that is running out of ink. I used the old computer that was here and printer that I got running to print most of what I've written before running out of ink in the printer. And then, gradually, all of my electronic devices died. Can’t even play games on my smart pad anymore. So I've had to rewrite the rest of my story to get it all down on paper if I don't run out of paper before that. Most of this paper is yellowed with age and has been nibbled on by mice for God knows what nutrition.

Rocky died about five years ago of old age. By the end of that summer just got so that it was hard for him to get up in the morning. I could hear him whimpering and staggering as he walked. I took him out back and put him out of his misery. His is the only grave here. There won't be one for me. I'm thinking when I get really bad, I might go out and do myself in like I did for Rocky. Then let myself be eaten by predators. They supplied me with a lot of food over the years.

Each year gets harder as these old joints and muscles get worn out and tired from all that heavy exertion that it takes just to provide my food and keep me warm in the winter time. The chainsaw died a long time ago and putting up enough wood for the winter just keeps getting harder every year. And, I get colder every year and need more heat. Don't want to run out of wood before spring.

I get to thinking about the mountain men, prospectors, and hermits that lived alone in the wilderness before me. Makes me wonder if they were suffering like me in their latter years. I guess some of them probably met with accidents like a slipped axe cutting into an artery, falling off the cabin roof, from a tree, or off a cliff. Drowned when their boat capsized or fell through the ice and got hypothermia. Hell, could have got hypothermia just by exposure in a blizzard without adequate clothing. A thousand ways to die alone. Hope that one of those doesn’t happen to me. But if one does, so be it.

Until that happens, I'm winding down my activities and trying to enjoy the wisdom and experience that old age is supposed to bring to you. I'm reading a lot of these books and finding out things I never knew. What a rich life we had. Too bad we had to go and squander it by excess all around. It's amazing that there was any wilderness left when we left. But it sure has come back in ways that even I marvel at, after all the years. I'm putting down the pen now, I have to cook myself some stew for dinner or I will surely starve.