Some days the medicine doesn't work, or, why a bald guy has a hair dryer

Vidal in his wildest dreams could not have foreseen this.

Waking up after only an hour of sleep should have been enough of a warning that this was going to

turn into a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, the kind Judith Viorst wrote about so eloquently. But it wasn't.

All I wanted to do was take a day trip to the East Pole to check for any damage that might have been done during a magnitude 7.1 earthquake that had shaken the whole area about a week earlier. Though it was 200 miles away it rattled this house pretty good and was the first earthquake where I felt the floor rise and fall as if on waves.

The cabin survived a 7.9 some years ago that didn't even tip over wine glasses standing upside down in a dish drainer, but still, you worry.

So after realizing there would be no more sleep I decided to head out. First the lock on the snowmachine trailer had frozen so I couldn't hook up until I burned it open. That should have been a warning but it never registered.

Everything had been packed for almost a week so it was just fire up and drive off. Four miles down the road I realized I had forgotten something I just could not go without, so I had to go back.

Quick stop at the grocery for some water and go-juice, to the gas station where I discovered the little zipper flap in the weather cover that allows access to the snowmachine filler cap was frozen and no amount of strain was going to free it. Eventually I managed to loosen one side of the cover to put in three gallons of gas and some Heat, some of which I managed to spill because of the odd angle I had to hold the hose. Another unheeded warning.

That done I made a quick stop at McDonald's. Egg mcmuffins are the only thing I will eat from there and they have become part of the ritual going to the cabin. Took the bag and a jug of milk back to the Jeep and tossed them in. That was the last I saw of that milk until I got home later in the day.

Off I went for the highway to the East Pole. Now, this Jeep's heater is next to worthless when the temperature drops much below 20. I had on only the clothing I wear under my Carhartt suit and as I progressed along the road I began feeling chilled more and more, but that didn't register.

By the time I reached the trailhead I couldn't wait to get into my suit and move around to warm up. Fortunately I decided the first thing I should do is make sure the snowmachine started before I began taking anything off the trailer. I could tell I was not warming up, still felt the chill and began to question whether I was making good decisions. I have been seriously hypothermic a couple of times and was beginning to suspect the signs.

The main latch-down for the snowmachine had frozen in and I had to take a hammer to it to loosen it. Then I pulled the cover off the machine and went to put the key into the ignition. Guess what? Frozen solid. I doubt I could have pounded it in with a hammer. That's when you start taking a mental inventory. I always carry a Bic lighter in my survival pack. Except this time. I dumped the whole thing out in the Jeep and there wasn't a lighter. There was, however a flint and steel. Good luck with that. At this point I was beginning to realize I might not be thinking straight. A few recriminations showed up as well, like why hadn't I suspected this when the trailer lock was frozen or when the zipper in the cover wouldn't open?

I could go get a lighter or matches, come back, try to thaw it and head in. Fortunately I didn't do that. You count things up. I don't have to go. If I was living there I would do it, but I'm not. I am not warming up very much. If something went wrong on the trail I could find myself in worse trouble. Old Lodgeskins came to mind and I realized the medicine wasn't working. What also came to mind was something an Iditarod racer had pointed out – that seemingly insignificant things can build up one after another until you are in serious trouble. I'd already had enough of those for the day. Right then and there I decided to cut the losses and go home.

Recovered and tied down the machine, climbed in the Jeep and headed down the road still wearing every bit of winter gear I had brought. An hour and a half later I pulled into the yard and stopped the Jeep in the middle of everything. I still felt chilled. In such a hurry I didn't park it as much as I abandoned it. In the house I ripped off all my clothes and hit the shower until I had used up every drop of hot water. I made a quick bowl of tomato soup and ate it, then I crawled into bed under four heavy blankets and slept for three hours. Even after that when I woke up I had to start a fire in the wood stove to stay warm.

I had to tell all that so that now I can tell you what this post is really all about. After all this, two days later the snowmachine ignition was still frozen solid. Why anyone would put an ignition on an almost horizontal surface is amazing. It is bound to collect water. It did rain in the past week but I had a cover on the machine ­– didn't matter. Given that the ignition is close to the filler hole for fuel, open flames like a lighter or a match were out the question. Even an overnight soaking in Lock-Eze didn't do it. Another time to sit down and take an inventory; what did I have that could do this job? For once the answer came almost immediately. The hair dryer. Thawed in less than a minute. New medicine.

And now thoughts go to prevention in the future. This isn't a problem at the pole because I never remove the key out there, but out here in civilization there is a much larger chance for theft so leaving the key isn't an option. And, I usually have to run the machine to load it onto the trailer just before I leave so I would automatically know if something were wrong, but this time it had been on the trailer for more than a week. I think the ignition at one time had a removable cover on it that fell off somewhere along the way. This after all is my son's machine which I don't use often and over the years he had it not much maintenance had been done. So he easily could have lost that cover. I will check that with a dealer. Next thought was a 12-volt hair dryer I could run off the car battery. 

Maybe. For now though, I will just make sure to check it before I depart if I don't have to run it and once under way leave a key in the slot. Also in the future I will dress better even in the car when it gets too cold for that heater. Preventive medicine.

Meanwhile I am going to have to trust the cabin is OK until I go out in March.