"God damnit, Antoine, it won't slide !"
"Come on, Gilles, it's just a little bump on the trail..."
"I know THAT !"
I'm bent, making an angle of 45° with the (almost) horizontal ground, pulling with all my might those stupidly heavy sleds - we haven't weighed them (should have...) but our individual loads must each weight a good 100kg (220lbs) in total - who does that !? -, panting like an animal. My harness cuts into my thighs and I'm afraid it won't even make it through the second day of our expedition. Antoine helps me and pushes. We make some progress, I get over the bump : 3 meters in 5 minutes ! I'm sweating already, not good. The temperature dropped to -35°C this morning, and there's wind.
Yesterday was a good first day. We got dropped off at the Dempster - a friend drove us - in the late morning, and managed to make about 9 km, which I thought was not too bad with those loads. The temperature was nice, though : -15°C, cold enough so we wouldn't sweat too much. And we were following a nicely packed trail.
But now here we are - two jackasses -, it snowed 15 cm (6 in) overnight and we're not even able to pull our sleds over the starting first meters of our second day. Tonight we'll turn back, look behind and see our first camp from our second camp, how frustrating ! 2,7 km. Second night without a fire. Second evening without comfort. Any distance we have to walk it thrice : first with the lighter sled to open up a trail, then go back empty to get the second and heavier sled. That will be our routine for some time now, most of the way to the Hart River in fact (furthest point to the North-East on the map). For different reasons. A cold snap of almost three weeks (with temperatures in between -35°C and -55°C) - when the winter had been so mild and easy until then - followed by two weeks of grey sky and fresh snow, that was God's plan for us. Today the cold temperatures and fresh snow create that perfect combo for sandpaper-like surface (when it's too cold, the pressure from the sleds is not enough to create that very thin layer of water on top of the snow, which is what makes it slide - because when you think of it, snow is just a collection of sharp little crystals that have no reasons to be slippery whatsoever - so really we're in the middle of an endless field of cutting little blades : everything looks so hostile to us today). Later it will be deep snow or hazardous river-ice conditions. In the end - it took us time and some trial-and-error to find out - we realized that the most efficient way to progress on unknown terrain with heavy sleds was to repeat this two-day scheme : open the trail with a light sled on the first day, with camping gear and two days of food ; make a good comfortable camp, with firewood for two nights ; and go back fetch the second heavier sled on the second day, long day but the camp is ready and all we have to do is light a fire. In that fashion, we manage to make 8-10 km every two days.
With much time spent at the first two cabins along our way and an lousy average of 5 km a day once on the trail, we drag our two sorry carcasses and four battered sleds to the Hart River, and get at the furthest cabin on the 18th of February. Of course there were good moments on the way : beautiful landscapes ; skies, stars, auroras in the early morning ; breathtaking silence and isolation ; some chilling out, reading and writing at a first cabin ; and of course, staying with my old trapper-writer friend Mary along Rae Creek for five days were great moments ! But still, in order to get to Keno City, we had counted on being able to make 10 km a day. So here it comes : decision time. Calculations, judgement, (animated) discussions. Aghhhh! We won't make it to Keno.
I've been planning (and dreaming about) this for a few years now. Coming to realize that in fact we won't be able to accomplish it is quite nerve-cracking. Pride sticks to the original plan, the dreamed one. But reason fights back. And that inner battle rips me apart. I soon lose my purpose. Random rambling of the soul. That's when strength of will comes into the picture : accept failure, find another purpose, learn from it all.
In the end we've decided to experience a longer stay in a Canadian log cabin, since we got this far out. Plus this valley truly is beautiful - everybody hasn't got that chance !
To be continued... with a smile !