straight livin'

I apologize for the hiatus. And the size of this huge post - but hey, look on the bright side! There's alot of spaces between paragraphs, so it's really not that long. Also think of it as two posts in one! Read it in sections if you want. The truth is I wrote an entry 2 days ago, which I was quite happy with, and it completely disappeared. That was more than a little disheartening, so I said "F you blog." for a few days. We are now just getting on speaking terms again. The last entry had a grand description of the day the kokanee trucks pulled up and just threw free six packs at us until the cops came, but that is about the extent that I'm going to recount it here. Since I don't want to write about it twice, and if you don't mind I like to consider these entries works of art, which cannot be duplicated, even by their creator. Just let me have my excuse okay?

I'll put the picture up of the kokanee trucks.


Well my actual life isn't all that exciting right now, in contrast the the usual press junkets and book signings I attend, so I'm thinking of posting an excerpt from more exciting times. Just to update you suspended readers though, I'm counting a lot of dots these days. Finished taking pics of the Prefrontal Cortex, all three regions contained therein. We just like to call it the PFC on the street. I'm now up to the Nucleus Accumbens, which is missing a lot of data due to faulty staining, which makes things faster, but really sucks cause that means no results.

Parents called yesterday - they're loving every minute of it down in Fla. They're doing some cool hikes. They've seen an armadillo, a python or two, and a 7 foot crock. Apparently it growled at them, as it was a mother with her young. My dad wants to see a coral snake. I told him he really didn't want to see a coral snake, but I guess he figures if I saw one he should see one. I call him Pap, and I call my mom Mami, not because I am old fasioned, or a pampered little snob, I call them that because my first language was German, and those are the names I learned for them, which naturally stuck. You know we only have room for so much mutation in how we address parents in our lifetime. Mami has always been Mami, and Pap was Papa when I was right up till about 6 or 7, when it started to morph into Pap. Some people have more tolerance for this kind of morphing. Yank for example refers to his parents as Bill and Julie. To their face. To each his own.

Alright to make up for the dearth of postings, I'll insert some story from a previous life (which is soon to resume) in a couple of sentences.

Other than the above I am preoccupied with trying not to play Need For Speed Underground 2 (I am an addict and it sucks), while trying to get all the dots counted before tomorrow's midterm. I have also arranged some accomodations for the WFR which I am taking on Kingston on the 31st. My good friend Katie Quinn has offered to take me in for as long as need be, and my buddy Ian also has some couch space. Think I might split it up between the two. Also Wilderness Medical Associates sent me a 250 pg book on the course. Sweet Jesus. At least I have a reference huh. So that's what's on my mind these days. That and trying to sort out my housemate situation for next year. Either way, let's not think about that right now. Let's you and me enjoy whatever the selection may be.

Ah yes - the Noire. A river I remember well. The crushing psychology of the wilderness can take even a mild mannered person and make them want their mommy, or Mami. Here's my story.

7 Day Noire – 07/15/05

Day 1­

Speeding North along hwy 60 in a 15 passenger van right now is the potential for a fantastic trip. Preparations were more organized this time, but things were thrown off by 2 kids being added last minute and some severe food miscounts on the part of the kitchen. The boys seem like a hilarious group with some good initiative starting to show. The Noire is a very remote river as far as 7 days go, so apprehension on my part runs a little higher. A sat phone is a requirement for this trip, and the 50 k logging road in from Sheenboro is sure to be an adventure. I will have to exercise the same caution I used on the Magnetawan. Let’s hope this feeling of “I forgot something” fades or is not true. I already know one thing – the Zec map I had of the road has vaporized, and I know I put it in my map case. Oh well, Ian claims to have solid directions and this is my third time on the road, so it should be dine. The Noire is a beautiful river. Dark as steeped rose hip tea, meandering, winding back on itself with white sand beaches flanking every turn. The hot days that I have known on the Noire are likely to be rrelived in this next week based on the long term forecast and the history of the weather lately. We have our lunch, our CB radio, our Sat phone, and our will, so that will get us there. Hope there’s no oncoming traffic on the logging road.

· The road has widened and flattened and things were much more navigable than I remembered. Things have changed. We are camped on Lac St. Patrice, at the classic day 1 island site. Someone has left us a bigger pile of firewood than we would have collected ourselves. We suspect it was Trevor Ross, who has a reputation on our trip of doing that. It is the end of a hot day, the site is packed up and we are fed .

We have agreed to try something new. We have invented our own time zone. Rather than sleeping through 2 hours of hot sun after being awoken by ravens and seagulls, we’ve opted to set our clocks 2 hours back so that we enjoy more daylight, less bugs, and more chill time after dinner. This will also help us on longer paddling days. We’ve designated the new time zone STD -> Sexy Standard Time. Not my idea. The guys are all for it so that’s what time zone we’re in. It adds to the whole fantasy of trip, I like it.

· Tonight I stared, fixated, at a blazing sunset for about 15 minutes – we all did. The sky faded through green through all shades of blue over a black spruce and white pine treeline. Over the silhouetted treeline was a foreground of fingerpainted streaks of blazing metallic copper and pink wisps of cloud fanning out toward us. Laid against its blue backdrop, it was a stunning show that made us all happy to be here.

Day 2

How quickly things change. The guys know this great song about “Discoing” that was popularized on a campfire some nights ago. With sand banks on every turn I thought it would be fun to write the lyrics of the song on every bank for other passers through to see. We had noticed messages that could only have been from Kandalore on many of the banks. Wondering who was out here recently, I decided to get out and reprazent, as we like to say. I beached up on a sanbank, walked up the strand, wrote the message, and as I was walking back it happened. A sharp stick pointing toward me slid into my foot just along my sandal sole and broke off. Inside the right sole of my right foot there is a 1 cm diameter fragment of a stick.


Hour 1
I immediately got out the first aid kit and assessed the damage. I could see some of the stick protruding. I snapped at it with the tweezers. With nothing to freeze it with, the pain was quite sharp and I could tell the stick was not going anywhere. I need to be evac’d.
· Hour 2
We paddled 30 minutes upstream, Geoff and I, to a bridge we’d passed earlier. Luckily the road on this bridge leads to our put in. I called nick on the Sat phone from the top of the bridge, reported my coordinates and the help I needed. Right now I am camped with the guys on a sand bar down from the bridge about 20 ft. We’ve set up tents and I am in a holding pattern. I hope Alex can get in to me with Nick soon. They said they’d be here by 8, but I fear the worst. I need this fragment removed now.
· Hour 3 - 3:00
It is extremely hot on this sand beach. Our tents are set up for shelter. Jose was kind enough to put the fly on for me, so I have some shade and an occasional breeze flows through my tent. I have calmed down a little, settled into my waiting game as I elevate my foot and wait. I doze of a little and some sleep would be nice as I will be up late dealing with this tonight. I will try to read my book a bit.
· 4:20
I am getting impatient.
The pain in my foot is slowly growing as I try not to wonder about how fast nick will get here and what could slow him down. Kirby is complaining of “sun stroke” which he diagnosed himself, so he is sitting in my tent with me, resting and drinking fluids. Personally I think he is just trying to get off trip, as earlier he jokingly asked if he could get evac’d with me. It is almost time for the guys to start gathering wood so we can get dinner going. I’m waiting for the sun to fade a little first, as it is very hot. I feel so much regret for getting this stick in my foot, but I don’t know how to fix it. What did I do wrong? Shoes instead of sandals next time? Watch where I’m going? Who knows. I just feel like it’s a nightmare I don’t want to deal with, but I know I’m already awake and I need to get out.

· 5:00
I am laying in wait, thinking, monitoring, wondering what pathogenic goodies could have been in the stick and if they’re going to make a difference in the matter of hours they’re going to be sitting in my bloodstream for. I think I should be evacuated by some more urgent means than this, but the wheels are already turning, so I must impatiently wait for help.
I am hungry and anxious for dinner and help. I wonder about the removal process of this stick. Will they cut the whole thing open? Probably. How many stitches will that mean? How many trips will it affect? I wait for 8:00.

· 6:10
I read my trip log to Kirby and it made us both feel a bit better. The stick hurts unless I ignore it. I ate a few bagels and I feel more stable and happier now. I miss the comforts of home and just want this to be dealt with by a professional. Such is the psychology of the wilderness emergency. Hopefully Nick will be here within 1.5 hours – fat chance. It’s funny how your mood and outlook change due to external conditions. I’m not as worried or mad at Nick for not getting me out immediately. Is this warranted? I will only know when I read this later.

· 7:15
I’ll give my pen to Alex upon his arrival. Time to pack the tent in anticipation.

· 12:30 AM
Things like this never go off without a hitch. I waited and waited, called camp about 3 more times, sweating it about whether or not Nick was going to make it. At 9:30 or so, as the sky blazed its customary pink, salvation came in the form of the red truck. The sun disappeared quickly as Nick and I blazed the roads of ZEC St. Patrice in the pitch black. Over an hour later we were ejected onto the pavement of Sheenboro and we accelerated through the night to Pembroke. Here I sit, admitted and registered in the Pembroke emergency room. A massive hospital whose emergency room is too full with coughing obese people and ambiguously sick children to treat my impalement injury, which I’ve now had for over 12 hours, by the way. Nick is in the car sleeping off the 2 hour wait again. The plan is that I will drive home after this, as the Best Western wanted $125 for the night. Here we go again.

· 1:18
The worst is out.
I’m sitting on the ER table, content to have watched the exercising of my demon under the influence of heavy local anaesthetic. 1 Tetanous shot and a dose of antibiotics later I should be ready for the haul to Haliburton. The nurse and I kept stimulating conversation as I watched the procedure intently. It makes me glad I had so easily curable an ailment. Speaking of exercise, my HR was a record low of 46 bpm. The nurse though something was wrong with me J

· 5:14 AM
Home.

07/19/05

After a day of scary fever and a couple more of swelling, things are starting to improve. The fever may have been the result of the tetanus toxoid update rather than inflammation going systemic. In any case a day off with plenty of rest and elevation did me well, and rather than going through the hassle of program being cooped up in here I’m taking out a 4 day Madawaska tomorrow. Let’s hope it’s a safe one. My ankle is showing signs of improvement. Here’s to the continuation of this trend.


Don't worry guys, I survived. I went on to take out that Madawaska and live happily ever after. Also, interesting note, 2 days into that trip, when I was tending to the wound, out came a grape-seed sized piece of wood. It was still in there! The swelling went all the way down over night and there was no more pain. The nurses don't always get everything, but often your body does.