Prince of Whales – Part 7

This is part seven of our trip to Prince of Whales, Alaska. If you missed part six you can catch up here.

In the early morning and Edgar and Leigh were back on the hunt – “first light” as Hemingway would say. No sun to warm them at day break, not raining just heavy cloud cover.

I made egg salad and potato soup for lunch.

They came back early, 11:15. They’d spent a chilly morning scouting, before finding a makeshift coffee stand. The owner was catching rain water from the top of his camper to feed into a cooler, and then used that for his brew. The flavor wasn’t great, but they were glad for the warmth.

They’d also talked to a local hunter out in the timber who told them where the seasoned bucks were congregating. “I wouldn’t tell you this if you were locals,” he’d said. “But since you’re visiting, I’ll let you know where I’ve found the largest bucks.” They had devised a plan. We had a quick lunch and headed out.

The turnoff road was not far from the lodge. We then drove about three miles on the gravel and turned into a narrow trek for about another three miles. We came to an impassable creek. Edgar parked by the creek on a slight incline and he and Leigh got out of the truck to check the availability and distance to turn around. The plan was to turn the truck around, park it there, and walk farther up into the forest.

As they were looking over the situation I noticed the truck had began to very slowly roll backward. They must have noticed it at about the same time as I did. They were both standing right in front of the truck and I saw the shock on their faces as Edgar started trying to catch the truck as it picked up speed going downhill. Of course it was impossible; there was nothing they could do but watch and pray. The truck was rolling backward downhill faster and faster. I leaned up over the front seat to throw the gear shift into park in case it wasn’t. But the shift was already in park and wouldn’t budge. There was hardly enough time to become terrified, but I was praying that the bottom wasn’t too far away, the ride wouldn’t become too rough, or it would all end quickly. It’s amazing how much thinking a person does in such a short time. Then BANG! It all stopped. My prayers had been answered and one of God’s angels in the form of a tree stump had stopped the trucks’ descent. I was shaken and banged around. My head had hit the back window pretty hard, but I was okay.

Edgar climbed down and helped me out of the truck and back up to the road. The only choice we had was to get our gear out of the truck and walk out. We had no cell phone service where we were.

About halfway out Leigh got phone service and called Brent, letting him know what had happened. We kept walking. My achy spots were surfacing and I couldn’t quite stop thinking about the “what ifs”. Strange thoughts and not good. I was alive and fine. It was a crazy feeling.

After we had walked about four and a half miles Brent showed up. We all got in his camo four by four and headed back to the truck. I felt very uncomfortable getting into his vehicle and driving back in there, and to make matters worse he drove about three times as fast as Edgar had when we drove in. I wished I had just sat along side of the road in the rain and waited for them to come back.

Brent was angry with Edgar for driving back in there—which I’m pretty sure he would have done himself if he were hunting. Edgar was upset with Brent for sending people out in a truck with a slipping transmission. (There was a note on the dash which warned that sometimes the truck would not start in park and had to be in neutral.) I guess in hindsight we should have realized this and set the emergency break or refused to drive an unsafe vehicle.

No matter what, who, or how the truck was off the road needing a plan to get back up on it. The truck wasn’t badly damaged; it just needed to be winched back up to flat ground so it could be driven out. Brent had brought a chain saw winch with him which they used to try to pull the truck up, but to no avail. The truck needed to be lifted up and and then pulled forward, and the winch was pulling it down instead.

We all went back to the lodge and Brent found someone to go out and try to get the truck the next day. He formed a plan for morning but said he didn’t want Edgar to go along and help.

We had a pretty early night. I utilized Aleve and lineament, but still tossed and turned all night with discomfort.

On day eight, I get an exciting text from the field, and then radio silence.

~Kate Riley