The day before I left the East Pole for the season I hauled a sled full of stuff out to the trailhead. Among the items in it, the chainsaw lay strapped right on top. Taking it out for some servicing. The sun shined fuzzily through a hazy sky that day and the trail ran hard and fast.
So, comes the big day. Lots to do before leaving but with all the chores done and the sled loaded again, I took one last look around the cabin making sure I didn't forget anything. Fire laid ready for a match when I return. Check Moth balls between the windows and the bear boards to discourage bruintrusions. Check. Cell antenna brought indoors, check. Propane shut off and disconnected, check. and on and on. Toward the end of that survey my gaze fell on the little collapsible Swede saw I used to carry on my snowmachines but don't anymore.
Nah, I thought.
Out the door, locked, tested. one more check outdoors and off we go into a thick snowfall of wet heavy snow. (Later I recalled I forgot to bring in the bird feeder. A bear destroyed the last one, so I had better buy a replacement for next winter just in case it happens again.)
On my way and the machine/sled combination seemed sluggish. After just about a mile I had added a load of snow to what already felt like a maximum load. Looking back all I could see was snow, It covered the load and added maybe 50 pounds. The previous day on the return trip the machine had kicked so much of that wet snow into the sled I couldn't even tip it over; I had to shovel it out. Because of that I had covered this load with a tarp but it didn't help much. Every so often I had to stop and flip as much snow off the load as I could.
But that paled with the next difficulty;
Two trees had blown down across the trail. I encountered a small birch first, the thickest bunch of its branches hiding trail, Just past that a larger spruce blocked the trail. They had me stopped wondering how I was going to get out of this mess. My mind flashed to that chain saw in the truck out at the trailhead. Then I fantasized that little Swede saw a mile or so behind me in the cabin. Neither would be much help now. The high berms along the trail discouraged an attempt to go around them. I tried driving over the birch but one ski went under and the other went over the main trunk. I backed up. I walked ahead and looked at the spruce which was bigger but had gone deeper into the snow of the trail. It looked like I could drive over that one if only I could get around the birch. I tried lifting it and pushing it off and it moved but when I let go it snapped back into place. Then I got the idea to try to trample the brushy part, that looked pretty good; jumping up and down on it even lowered the trunk a little so I might be able to get both skis over it.
I got a good running start at it and aimed for the smallest branches. Woo Hoo I got over them, and then there was no stopping, With a head of steam up, I aimed the machine at the low part of the spruce and crashed over it, in the process bringing a tangle of branches in the grill, tangles in the skis and even some in the track. However, I was past the obstruction and once I'd removed the detritus from the machine headed on to the destination. At the trailhead, the snow stopped and the roads from there on were dry. It was like Nature had to take one last lick at me before letting go. I hope I am welcomed back next winter into a kinder atmosphere. After the fact I posted on facebook that I had cheated death one more time.
Obviously nothing in this story was death-defying. As a matter of fact in the rare adventures that could have ended that way, I haven't said it. So, here's what's about cheating death. When I ran a tour boat, every day on our return, once the crew had tied off the boat, I always said, "cheated death one more time.' It was meant to be humorous. It was meant to kid the people who had been a little apprehensive about riding on a boat in the ocean. But in my own head it was also an homage to the natural powers that be for allowing me another safe voyage, and acknowledging where the power actually resided.
More recently I have used it to tell people who expressed some concern about something I have been doing that things came out all right.
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