Laura the Life Saver

My friend Laura visited last week. We've known each since elementary school. I guess that's over half of our lives now, wow. Anyway, she flew in on Tuesday and flew home to Boulder, CO on the following Monday. Laura's arrival was greatly anticipated, not only by me, but also by my students, who love meeting people and they adore the ones who love them back. From the moment we picked her up on our snowmobiles in Dillingham, Laura seemlessly slid in to my daily grind and already, everyone misses her. Especially me.

Laura and Brian heading into Dillingham.

Laura and me, just beyond the Snake River.

One of my students made this in anticipation of Laura's arrival. Laura is the first person on a snowmobile, the second is Brian and Kirsten along with their (fictional) child. The last is me, skijoring with Hank.

While Laura was here, we took full advantage of our surroundings and of our time together. Our evenings were jammed packed with activities like steaming, caribou dining, visits with other friends in the village and a whole lot of catching up. Yes, I think I can safely say that we covered in detail, the finer details of the last ten years of both of our lives. The intracicacies and events that Christmas coctails and river adventures don't exactly leave room for. Bush life on the other hand, does.

Since the evening Laura arrived, we'd been hounding my friend Doug to escort us by snowmobile about 100 miles "up river" to a village called New Stuyahok. Doug's a seasoned bush guy and has made the dicy trip dozens of times. We'd also done plenty of research suggesting the conditions were appropriate for travel. I wanted to go to get my recently purchased snowmobile up there because I'm relocating next year. And while there are other ways to get the machine to New Stuyahok (boat or barge), nothing appealed to me quite like the snow-go adventure. I was also really excited that my friend would have this wild Alaskan experience, get to see my next steps as well as meet some new faces along the way. The best part was that Laura loved the idea just as much as I did!

And so last Saturday morning we hustled around my house, inside and out, packing and strapping Laura's belongings to the sled in the (likely) event we decided not to make it back to Manoktoak before her Monday evening departure. Aside from the obvious safety precautions, we also carried some artsy challah bread, a small (cooked) chicken and some oatmeal cookies. In any event, we weren't going to starve. As we hurried around, I considered not wearing my helmet, complaining about feeling like a bobble head and whining that my neck would probably hurt after four hours of riding. Laura, the voice of reason didn't see any justification for not wearing the helmet, which became reason enough for me. Anyway, you see where this is going...

We left Manokotak both wearing our bobble heads (helmets). And thank God we did, because after crossing the Wood River (beyond Dillingham), seemingly out of nowhere, I spun on some ice going about 25 mph. The crazy thing is, I don't even remember feeling the track of the machine fish tail. I just remember suddenly feeling out of control, powerless, and afraid that the machine would crush me. Then the lights went out.

Aside from a few very fuzzy memories, I have no recollection of what happened from about the time of the crash until I was on Doug's machine heading to the hospital while forcing myself to jog my lazy memory. According to Laura and Doug, following the accident, there was a period of about thirty minutes where I was walking around, not exactly coharent, repeating the same questions, but not retaining their responses. The questions I asked over and over again were, "Was I wearing my helmet?" and "Was I driving that snowmobile?" Then I'd forget, get frustrated and ask again. A group of men who were out cutting wood stopped too. One of them happened to be a wilderness first responder. Based on my loss of short term memory and dilated pupils he recommended I get to the hospital ASAP.


Laura rolling on the "Christine, the Death Machine," affectionately named following the accident.


Me, on Doug's machine, post accident.

I'm fine now, thanks to Laura's 'safety first' mentality. My head is back to normal and I don't even have a bump, although I imagine my brain had a pretty good jossling in its casing. The right side of my body is bruised and my knee is not quite right. Laura's dad is an orthopedic surgen, so he coached Brian through an orthopedic exam of my knee over speakerphone. Based on the "results," the doctor figures it's just some torn cartaledge which should heal in a matter of weeks. In the meantime though, I'm home, doing floor exercises, reading, staring out the window, and only mildly obsessing about my body turning to mush. It's particularly heartbreaking since the weather these days is pretty off the hook, with bright sunshine and warm air until about 9:30 p.m.

As for the snowmobile, the track had to be put back on the machine and there's some cosmetic damage following the 360 degree roll. I think some studs for the track are in order before I get back on that bucking bronco.

Anyway, thank God for good people, accidents that we can laugh and learn from and great friends. Especially the ones who visit you in the bush, and make you wear your helmet. And although I was very disappointed that we didn't get to finish our journey, I am so thankful that Laura came out, we got to have the time of our lives and we're both still put together. What a trip...