FREEZING TO DEATH
Any sensible person would have headed back; we didn’t really need
supplies. Was this a stubborn streak showing through? I
had set out to deliver the essay so I was damn well going to do it, or was
this just part of being nonchalant about the whole affair?
I felt a bit tired and somewhat stiff in my legs but I was sure I could
make it; once I got moving I would loosen up. Anders on
his skis soon got a good distance ahead of me. I
thought of Norby, the Norwegian hermit on Garden Island. He
was right – it was much faster to travel on skis.
‘Just as well Anders was ahead of me,' I thought. ‘I could go at my own speed and in my own thoughts.'
I settled into a steady pace, placing one snowshoe in front of the other and leaning into the harness of the toboggan. I trudged on and soon crossed the portage between Diamond and Sharp Rock Inlet.
I found it helpful to be following Anders’ ski trail. When
you follow a trail you do not have to make decisions – you just follow,
follow like a sheep sticking to a trail leading out to pasture.
I was beginning to get tired – it must have been an hour since we had had lunch. I sat on the wanigan to rest. However, it wasn’t long before I felt chilly so I got up again and leaned into the harness once more.
The problem
with following someone is that they set the pace, they set the goals.
I didn’t like this; now my back felt sore. I
had to concentrate on moving, placing one snowshoe in front of the other.
Finally I could see the big island way down the lake that obscured my view of Garden Island. I didn’t know what the time was or for how long I had been walking. Dusk would be falling soon; it was getting cold.
All kinds of
thoughts went through my mind: why had I not returned, I should have
stayed back, I shouldn’t have taken Anders’ pack. I
was focusing inward, not outward like I had become accustomed to.
I was in conflict, fighting nature. This was
stupid!
But I had to make it; I had
Anders’ stuff. If I were smart I would head for shore
and make camp for the night.
I lay down on the toboggan. It felt so good to lie down. I would just lie here for a little while and rest. I was cold but what the heck; I was too tired. I sensed myself drifting off, it felt like I was floating and I wasn’t cold anymore.
“No! I have to get going,” I shouted out loud.
This jolted
me into action. I realized what was happening.
I was drifting off, drifting off due to exhaustion. I
didn’t realize that drifting off could be so pleasant.
Would freezing to death actually
be a pleasant way to go?
I threw the harness over my
shoulder and leaned into it. The toboggan felt heavy.
Why did Anders leave me behind? He could have pulled the toboggan
for a while.
It was getting dark and cold
now. I was bloody cold and I was tired. I
concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Earlier
on this had been automatic – now it was an effort. My
snowshoes were heavy, the toboggan was heavy. I just
concentrated, one foot in front of the other.
I had to lie down again.
Just for a minute, maybe two. I stopped and lay
down on the toboggan. Ah, it felt so good. But
I was cold.
I was floating. This
was okay, I felt good – I seemed to feel warm. The
cold was going away.
I shouted out loud, very loud
and jumped up. I was suddenly fully alert. I
was not okay – I was cold, I was tired, I was drifting off into
oblivion. What caused me to have a release of
adrenaline a second time I’ll never know. I could
have died there lying on my toboggan.
That was a close call.
I could NOT stop again and under no circumstances should I lie
down.
This was stupid, it was bloody
stupid. If Anders had stayed with me we could have made
camp even if we were close to Garden Island. Now I had
to keep walking. I had to concentrate on putting one
snowshoe in front of the other.
I walked and walked.
It felt like an eternity. It was dark now.
I looked up. I could see a light way down the
lake. It must be light from the Petersens’ cabin.
I stopped but I did NOT sit down, I just stood.
Then I saw another light.
This light was moving. It was coming toward me.
It had to be Vagn. I would get a ride – I
couldn’t believe it. No, it was just an illusion.
Now, I could hear the high whine of
the engine; it was Vagn on his skidoo. When he arrived
I was sitting on the wanigan. I must have looked like a
ghost.
“Get on the skidoo,” Vagn
commanded.
I obeyed. I
took my snowshoes off and got on behind him. He just
took off at full speed. I hung on holding Vagn around
the waist.
“I will drop you off and then
come back out and get the toboggan and snowshoes,” he shouted back to
me.