|
Although I didn’t know
either Susan or Daniel, they are “our tribe” of travelers and
thus the whole thing is very compelling and close. Those of us
who favour ambitious
trips in the better remnants of remaining wild lands are so very
cognizant of the wild-card called luck. “We spend our careers
honing physical and judgment skills and accruing more and more
empirically gained expertise, but always knowing that the
wild-card in the deck exists with undiminished power no matter
how skilled we become. The fact is, good and bad luck can emerge
for any of us at any time. At times, and for some, that can
happen in an overpowering war, whether we are crossing a street
or crossing Ungava.
“Because we are alive we get to accept this
bargain, or deal, or fact because we have no choice. We do it
all the time and usually fairly unconsciously. Within the “Big
Trip Tribe” this is so acceptable and a natural part of the
package we usually don’t even mention it among ourselves, it is
simply understood.
“This is where perception and care, so eloquently
identified in the final paragraphs of your essay, emerges as a
point of relativity, and takes on a form that questions
responsibility. Anyone with a passion for engagement with the
wilds in serious long-term ways is always struggling to find a
language to describe the interest and drive and passion for
those who regard such travel as “adventure”, “fringe”,
“dangerous”, “crazy”, or “odd”. We are forced into “defense of
thesis” mode by the puzzlement of ambient culture with no
interest in such voluntary difficulty and no means of
understanding what fuels the passion that makes such outings
“fun” and “rewarding” for the practitioners.
“When tragedy strikes, we are all forced to
re-evaluate our thoughts on this and answer to those who just
don’t get it. It’s a good exercise. And sobering to be reminded
with no holds barred how thin the margin is between good luck -
and bad.
“My personal thinking is always rocking and
shifting with new tides of data and ideas, and an event like
this causes a bit of a surge and heightened awareness. So thank
you, for your thought-provoking article
“Since 1991 I have carried a signed typed card in
my wallet laminated to be waterproof.
‘In the event of death in the wilds I wish to be
left near or at the site or hidden in accordance to the best
judgment of my companions. In the event of traumatic accident
resulting in hospital care, the physicians, law, and all
authorities should be aware that I do not wish to be kept alive
by artificial support systems if a return to consciousness is
unlikely.’
“I realize that the current maze of legality, the
maze of investigations and all that stuff would probably
preclude any such wishes being realized. And that the likelihood
of cancer, disease, accidents or violence are far more likely
scenarios than being lucky enough to be in the wilds at the end;
but at least anyone involved with my remains would know what I
thought about it.
“On a much more upbeat note, we had a fabulous
59-day snowshoe and toboggan trip on the De Pas and George
rivers from February 16 through April 15 last winter. Splendid
beyond belief and so fun and uneventful that I’m not even going
to type up my trip notes.”
— Garrett
Conover
I was just
checking out Ottertooth.com and read your articles on the
disappearance of Daniel and Susan.
“Daniel was
a friend of mine and a fellow Canadian highpointer. He contacted
me after reading about my
climb of Ishpatina Ridge (which was
featured on Ottertooth.com 2 years ago). Since then, I've met
with him many times to discuss his trip to Labrador and we even
planned on doing some western highpoints together in the near
future.
“I had
originally planned to climb Mt. D'Iberville/Caubvick last year
with 3 other group members but my plans fell through when the
coastal ice prevented our longliner from getting through to
Nachvak Fjord. Daniel asked me to come along this year, but I
decided not to go since I was moving to Calgary... where I am
now. (In case you're wondering, I'm not the "other" partner
Susan replaced. That was someone else.)
“He sent me
many emails including his acquisition of one of your canoes and
seemed incredibly excited. His last words to me were, "This will
be the toughest trip I've ever done... If I survive." Those
words came immediately to mind when I received some e-mail from
his brother Michel in late August regarding the RCMP search
which had begun for his brother and girlfriend. He even made up
a ‘rough’ webpage which you may have seen already at
www.geocrat.ca. It's sad to hear about their disappearance and
I'm very sad for their parents. Having a pair of worrisome
parents myself, I can only imagine what they're going through
right now... especially with the Christmas season rolling in.
“Well, in
any event, I guess I just wanted to thank you for writing up
those excellent articles and bringing back some fond memories of
my friend.”
— Ken Takabe
The
discussion of the Labrador Tragedy and your Essay has caused me
to reflect on the profound influence northern trips have on who
I am and the risk that I accept while traveling there.
I was struck
by the comment that you made in your Essay. "Did we portray the
trip as we should have"? Over the years I have often been asked
for advice by folks planning trips in the North and more and
more I have been thinking about the way in which I describe my
own northern experiences. It is easy to become complacent when
you return to the same rivers over and over. As you did, we all
have a responsibility to give an accurate portrayal of the
inherent risk of northern travel.
In August I
had just returned from my 13th trip on the George River when I
received an e-mail saying that Susan and Daniel where missing.
As most folks I too thought that initially they had just been
delayed by weather but as the days passed it was clear that
something more serious had happened. I searched the web for new
information daily.
This one hit
close to home, perhaps because I had just returned from the
George or maybe it is because lately there seem to be more and
more accidents happening in places in which I travel. A couple
years ago I had just returned from a trip on the Soper River to
find that soon after we visited a paddler was attacked by a
polar bear at Soper Falls. I wish I had some profound conclusion
to draw from all this. I can only say that I am even more
drawn to the north as the years pass. Perhaps it is because it
is one of the few times when life is at its most primitive and
the consequences of our actions can mean the difference between
life and death”.
— Greg Shute
I have just
read your report of the tragedy suffered by Ms. Barnes and Mr. Pauzé. Your treatment of this sad duty is appropriate,
respectful and realistic. The event certainly underscores the
hard reality that can be wilderness travel.
“In this
regard, we must all be aware of the responsibility trip leaders
bear toward their fellow travellers. On the other hand, each
person who ventures out into the bush assumes the risk for
themselves. Frankly, I followed your LO 2001 avidly. It was
quite clear from all of the HACC reports that this was an
extremely arduous undertaking. So much so that in our little
canoe circle, the Torngat Mountains became a euphemism for any
particularly tough passage we encountered.
“It is why
the HACC is held in such high regard: very difficult trips
accomplished safely and on schedule. Or, as Amundsen might say,
without ‘adventures’. Anyone who has done even modest trips can
see from the HACC accounts the amount of planning, preparation
and solid effort needed to pull even one of these trips off.
“In your
essay, you wrestle with the question of responsibility. For my
part, you and the HACC bear none. At least none more than any of
us do who promote and encourage wilderness travel.
As you say,
the wilderness draws us in part with its raw power. It is not
malevolent, neither is it benign, it just is.”
— Ken
Grafton. |
