One man’s wilderness (28 page)

While coming back from a trip to the lower end, I saw a movement on the beach, a trotting and a stopping and a trotting again. It was a red fox. He came closer. In this very cold and half-dead world he had smelled the moose meat. How handsome he was in his thick orange coat, black boots, white chest piece, and a white tip on the fat banner of his tail. He came still closer. At fifty feet he started to circle me and not until he crossed my tracks did he get alarmed. Then off he flashed over the ice, his tail flopping this way and that. Abruptly he stopped. He sat on his haunches and studied me.

I put a big chunk of moose meat out on the ice in front of the cabin. Maybe he will come to call by moonlight.

It’s very warm in my cabin. At three in the afternoon the shadows are near the tops of the mountains across the lake.

I found it not bad traveling today. The wind is the villain when the thermometer is low. Nature’s invisible knife.

December 5th
. A full moon sharply focused in the very clear air. Minus thirty-two degrees. The ice is now twelve inches thick.

Today I would experiment with the cold. Hands and feet are the weaknesses in my protective armor. I cut a pair of insoles from caribou hide. I was sure they would be very effective, but they are too thick with the hair on and make my pacs fit too tight. A thermal insole, a cardboard insole, a thick felt insole, two pairs of woolen socks, one of heavy worsted wool and the other of medium weight, with woolen boot socks seems to be a good combination. A loose fit helps, too. I tried paper between two pairs of socks. It seemed better for a time, then colder. For my hands nothing beats the little “Jon-e” hand-warmer fueled with Blazo. Two pairs of woolen mittens with this little handwarmer traded back and forth is surefire protection. I tried paper between two pairs of mittens. That helps, but nothing like the little stove. The Glacier Creek ram skin tube is great protection but a man can’t cut wood with his hands shoved into a muff. During these experiments I was working in the woodshed, so I was handy for a quick change of gear.

December 6th
. A yellow pumpkin moon and minus thirty-five degrees.

Good that it is calm. Even a light breeze will make thirty-five below penetrate right into your vitals. By working fast in the woodshed I find I can stay on the comfortable side.

I had another experiment to perform. Protection for my face has been another problem, especially in a wind. A woolen scarf is good for a short while, then it ices up and becomes uncomfortable. I needed something that would stand away from my face and still allow me to see.

A big paper bag might do it. I had not thrown the empty cement sacks away. I shook one out and turned it inside out. Then I cut it in front so it came down to my chest. Next a one-inch slot four inches long to see through. It looked ridiculous, but looks don’t count when you’re traveling over the ice at thirty-five degrees below zero.

I shoved off for the lower end in my new headgear. It was surprising how
warm it was inside my hood. Frosting up a bit, but that was no real problem. I was also wearing a pair of heavy paper mittens between two woolen ones. My hands were fair. Much frost collected on my hood when a breeze hit me. By nearly closing the slot with my stocking cap, I had good protection. A six-mile jaunt round-trip. Next time my little hand warmer goes with me. It is good to know how much cold one can stand and how to dress for it. On taking off my pacs I found my thermal insoles frozen to the soles of the pacs. With the thick felt insoles on top, my feet were warm. I think walking on ice is much colder on the feet than in snow.

December 7th
. Clear, calm, and minus thirty-eight degrees. It seems that below minus thirty-five degrees the air gets hazy as though it is full of tiny frost crystals.

I broke through my waterhole. It was a mass of ice almost immediately.

I was in and out of doors many times today and in my shirtsleeves, too. I must be getting used to this deep freeze.

Strange that I have seen no northern lights yet.

The ice complains less, but when it does, it sounds like a jet plane going by at low altitude. Sometimes it makes a ripping noise as the cracks race through it.

December 8th
. A mild thirty-six below zero. Near sunrise seems to be the low reading.

A good day to check on the mystery trail down the slope of Falls Mountain. I wanted to try out a new device to protect my face, too. I unlaced my Glacier Creek ram skin handwarming tube and made a ruff such as borders a parka hood. Tied the ends together under my chin. With more string I laced the two sides loosely together in the back of my neck. Better visibility than my paper hood.

I crossed the ice to investigate the trail. In the loose snow it was too hard to make out tracks, but I found sheep hair on the brush and many branches
broken. I think maybe a lynx attacked the sheep, dragged it down the mountain, then lost its hold, and the sheep escaped. There was no blood on the snow.

It didn’t seem like minus thirty-five degrees. I had up a good head of steam going through the spruce timber. Then I saw an odd sight, a small column of vapor rising from the ridgeline.

I had heard bush pilots say that sometimes you can locate a bear in hibernation by the vapor rising from his bunk. I couldn’t tell if it was coming from above or below the ridge. I climbed toward it. Sheep tracks and scuff marks exposed grass. Then just above me a few hundred yards I saw three ewes feeding. Their warmth was causing the vapor column that rose perhaps seventy-five feet before it faded out.

Many lynx tracks along the shore of the lake. The cold began to seep in now that I was no longer climbing. Walking with my face down, into a light breeze, the sheepskin was good protection even though a mass of frost collected from much puffing and blowing.

Smoke still coming from the chimney when I returned. A warm forty-five degrees in the cabin.

December 9th
. Minus thirty-four degrees. The ice is quieter now, but once in a while it lets loose with a bellow and sounds like thunder from below.

December 12th
. Plus twenty degrees. Can spring be far away? The ice is now twenty inches thick.

December 13th
. Plus eighteen degrees. T-shirt weather!

I examined the different patterns of cracks in the ice. Some are really impressive and can be seen from top to bottom in the clear ice. It would be interesting to know what the pressure must rise to, to make so much noise and shatter so much ice. The lake has been quiet during this warm spell. About noon today the groaning started again. At times it sounded like the snoring of an army of giants.

December 15th
. Plus twenty-five degrees. Snow driven by a strong wind.