Epic Yukon River Journey: Days 35 - 39
On the way to Grayling we paddled most of the day again. It was 7:00 when we began to look for a place to stop. But the river was still very high and most sandbars and islands were submerged. The river edged right up to the thick, forested banks offering no places to stop and pull the kayaks out. The undercut banks were muddy and some pit stops required agile acrobatics with one foot in soft mud and the other in the kayak to keep it from being hijacked by the river. In some instances, there were balancing acts on logjams by the riverbank. By the time our haven came into sight, it was past 9:00 pm. That particular night our haven was to be (hopefully) a large cabin with a covered front porch facing the river. Next to the door was a large picture window with, probably, a wonderful view of the river. Off to the left was a large barn-like building and farther along to the left two cabins. Behind the main cabin were some other, smaller buildings. It appeared to be a major fish camp.
I told Kenneth we could use the far left cabin for shelter for the night. The note writer had given us permission to do so. So, we pulled the kayaks out of the water and went to inspect the far left cabin. The door had a bar across it to keep bears out, I guess. The large front window was broken out but had a large piece of plywood covering the gaping hole. Inside the 10 x 18 cabin was a wood burning stove, a table with two chairs, cooking utensils, two beds with real mattresses and the glass from the broken window all over the floor. Looked like a bear had really wanted to get in. We hurried back to the kayaks to bring our gear—just sleeping bags and food. We hurried because we had raised a cloud of mosquitoes from the tall grass all around the place. It looked like about five acres had been cleared of trees so the grass had taken advantage of the abundant sunshine. And, in turn, the mosquitoes had taken advantage of the tall grass to go forth and multiply. Kenneth and I did manage to get back inside the cabin without too much loss of blood. Inside, I found some mosquito coils and lit a couple of them which cleared the cabin of those pesky critters. Once we had closed the door and were settled inside, I pumped up the Coleman lantern hanging from a line and lit it. It was kind of dark because the large window was covered with plywood. There was a smaller side window and a very small one near the ceiling at the back of the cabin. Next, I swept up all the broken glass. Finally, we cooked our meals using our own stoves because we did not want to light the pot-bellied stove. It would have thrown out too much heat and driven us from the cabin into the waiting arms of the mosquitoes. As a matter of fact I had to turn off the lamp because it was getting to be too warm inside. The next morning (Monday, July 10), when I had stepped outside, the air was warm, the sky was blue and the sun shone brightly. What a beautiful day! I walked around the fish camp and found it to be almost as big as Sylvain's Place (way back in Canada). There was a very long fish cleaning table, maybe about 20 feet long or longer, set up so that it could be pulled closer to boats unloading fish (I guess). In the barn were a couple of four-wheelers, a tractor, lots of tools and other machinery. Behind the barn was the smokehouse—empty, no fish. Back at the far left cabin, I had breakfast and got my gear together. Before setting out I slathered a generous portion of sunscreen on my arms, neck and face. It was going to be a hot day. Soon my arms felt like they were on fire. But the paddling was great and I certainly was not going to whine and complain. The forested mountain sides slid by as I drifted and paddled, enjoying the day, despite my fiery arms. We got to Grayling at 4:00, in time to see a semi-trailer being unloaded from a barge. As I watched, the thing nearly tipped off the ramp and into the river. I hurried to the store to get tokens to take a shower at the washateria. When I asked about the tokens, I was told there was no washateria in Grayling. That meant there would be no shower for me that day, a shower that I needed badly. It is quite likely that at the next village council meeting the need for a shower was discussed. I had gone nine days (9, count them) without washing. Jumping into the river to wash would have been useless because the water is so silty. I would not have come out clean. To overcome my depression, I bought food for supper and called Maija, my wife. I felt better after the conversation and the bag of food I had bought since the bag contained some nourishing junk food (or as I prefer, comfort food). I headed back to the river to get my tent and set it up. Just as I spread the tent on the ground cloth, rain began to fall. Because the rain quickly turned into a downpour I did not have time to set up the tent and put on my rain gear. I threw a clear plastic sheet over it and crawled under the plastic to wait out the rain. The rain just kept pouring for about 20 minutes before slowing down to a steady, but hard, rainfall for over an hour. In the meantime, I had fallen asleep under the plastic. Eventually I began to get cold and condensation began to form under the plastic, getting me slightly wet. Groping about under the sheet, I found the tent door, crawled in and dozed off again. Inside the tent it was warmer but the tent did not breathe being a single wall tent. Soon I was gasping and panting for air since I could not breathe either. The tent poles were still in the kayak, so I had to use my knees to raise the roof somewhat to let in air. No, I was not having fun at the time.
Being somewhat reluctant to do so without asking for permission first, Kenneth was apprehensive about my suggestion. I told him not to ask for permission. If he did, that person could say no, even though they may not have the authority to deny us the use of the church. Worse yet, the person might see it as a chance to make some money by giving us permission to sleep in the church—for a price. I went on with my lecture: On the other hand, if we set up in the church and later somebody told us we could not stay in the place, we could plead ignorance and tell them we were just looking for a sanctuary. We hurried back to get our things: sleeping bag, sleeping pad, food and cooking gear and set it up at the back of the church having moved the folding chairs out of the way. I also brought my tent which I spread out over the chairs to dry. It was dry inside, the floor was clean and the decorations were up lending a festive air to our humble accommodations as we ate our last, and only, supper in Grayling. As I wrote in my journal, I noted that it was 11:30 pm and no one had come with eviction papers. All was well in the best of all possible worlds. We paddled away from Grayling in good weather and after a good and restful stay in the sanctuary of St. Paul's church. No one had tried to evict us; no one even questioned our stay in the church. And, we left the church in better condition than we had found it. We even closed the door behind us as we left. It turned out to be another good day for paddling. Anvik hove into sight at 1:00 in the afternoon. At the boat landing was a couple preparing to leave. They were from Austria and both the man and the woman were paddling Kleppers. Big bucks going down the river. The man was wearing a hat with a head net but the woman was not. Was there a degree of vanity involved on her part? Or was the man just a wimp? You decide. Just an observation but certainly not an important one. It was one that allowed for mindless speculation though. Anyway, the man said he had been in Anvik the previous winter with a team of sled dogs to take part in some long distance races. Because the man talked incessantly, I left for the showers, leaving Kenneth at the merciless barrage of words assaulting his ears. I was paying Kenneth back for all the times I was the first to step out of the kayak to investigate a campsite putting my life at risk. Served him right. So, our reason for stopping in Anvik was to take showers. It was my tenth day of shower abstinence, much to the dismay of grocery clerks and anyone down wind from me. The washateria was a good walk from the river. I first had to get tokens from the Council House. I was delighted to hear that the shower was only $2 for ten minutes. The usual cost had been $2 for three minutes. It felt good to wash up. I used all of my ten minutes of hot water. But, as I was drying myself, I noticed that old skin was rolling off my arms, legs and body like dirt balls. It was disgusting. Had I another $2 worth of tokens I would have been back in the shower but with a Brillo pad to help get clean. I don't even know why I am writing such personal dirty, secrets. My next stop was the grocery store. Actually there are two in Anvik but I went to Richardson's because it was owned by a cousin of Bergie Demientieff, a person I met in Holy Cross on my first trip. He had taken me to his house for coffee and conversation. His wife served the coffee and Bergie served good advice. On my way to the grocery store I met Kenneth coming back, eating a pint of ice cream, his ears beaten raw by the Austrian's verbal onslaught. I left Kenneth to watch my shower stuff as he sat down on the stairs of the Council House to finish his ice cream. At the grocery store, I wandered up and down the isles thinking to buy one of each of the food items but managed to escape with only $42 worth of food. As we were walking back to the kayaks, I began to sweat profusely because the day was warm and the two grocery bags were heavy. Not too far from the store, a young man and a girl on a four-wheeler stopped by us and asked if few wanted to have him take the bags down to the river. Somehow the distance from the store to the river seemed to be much longer than from the river to the store so I gladly let them deliver my groceries. He looked honest and decent (and well fed). When we got to the kayaks the grocery bags, with all of their contents were by the river. We packed the kayaks and left for Holy Cross. Not long after leaving Anvik, we passed the two Austrians. They were setting up camp on an island. I think I heard the guy still talking. Sound carries well across the water. We were paddling along the left bank and the island was almost a quarter of a mile to our right. We could barely make them out.
I asked them how the fishing had been. The woman said it had been great. They had caught, cleaned, dried, salted and canned their winter's supply of fish. Then while they had been in Holy Cross, where they lived, a bear had come into their fish camp and had eaten all of their salted fish and left the scraps. So they were starting all over again but this time were staying in their fish camp 24 hours a day. Out of their scant supply of fish, they gave generously for they had given us about four pounds of fresh salmon. We set up camp by the boat landing, far enough away from the river not to be bothered by boat traffic. Having gathered a good pile of dry wood, I set up my grill and grilled the salmon. Kenneth and I ate all of it in one sitting. I think it was about the best salmon I had ever eaten. Kenneth wanted to start eating it before it was completely grilled. I had to restrain him; told him although it had been caught two hours earlier, it was not sushi night in Holy Cross. After the salmon was gone, one of the locals stopped by. I asked about Bergie but was told that he had gone up the river and would not be back for a couple of days. The guys name was Dave. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and told us he had worked as a forest fire fighter in the lower 48. As we talked he told us about Holy Cross, himself and about living in that part of Alaska. We told him about our trip and that we hoped to reach the Bering Sea soon. After a while, Dave pulled a bottle of whiskey from his jacket pocket, took a drink and offered it to us. I told him I don't drink and Kenneth declined also. We continued to talk some more, then Dave wished us luck and went on his way. It rained again that night but I had the tarp over my tent so it was dry both inside and out in the morning. The dry tent went into the kayak and the wet tarp under the tie-downs on top of the kayak behind me. We left at 11:00, heading for Russian Mission 80 miles downstream and knowing that we would not get there that day. That proved to be the case.
After resting each of us cooked a big supper at 10:00 pm and headed back down to the kayaks. The two men and boy were gone. We were back on the river quickly because we only had to stow our cooking gear. As we pushed off, we hoped for gentle weather. But that was not our lucky day (or night). There was a strong headwind all the way to Russian Mission. We paddled for 12 hours and only managed to move 40 miles downstream. The paddling was very hard, getting harder by the hour and was complicated by the fact that I kept falling asleep. The need to sleep became especially acute between 5:00 and 7:00 am as I paddled. I was too tired to be happy when Russian Mission finally came into view. But I was awake enough to recognize it from my first trip. I wondered what changes there would be in the village. Harvey and Esther would be there and that was good to know. Ray Zvirbulis |
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