god walks in snowy ways part two

I think I am getting towards the end of my first winter in Canada. I do not know exactly where I am
but I am still moving roughly on a north west course. I met an Indian setting traps for wolfs a few days back. He said that Prince George is about a week away, but the people there are nasty.
Had not seen anyone for nearly four month, and I find it difficult to say much. We parted different ways, but I kept watching my back. Anyone who sets traps for the fur of a wolf, I believe is capable of things a lot worse. Luckily there is enough snow, to see any tracks for miles.
The going though is more difficult, the snow is softer and the river crossings become dangerous.
Wild life is a lot more active though, and the nights are not as cold.
Have seen lots of moose this morning, but only have about eight shells for my shotgun left. Experience has shown me that a moose is tough. The first one I shot had eleven one ounce slugs in it, and it still took me the best part of the day to track it down.
I have seen tracks of some black tail though, which are smaller and the skin is easier worked to fix my gear.
It is still early, but the site is just too good for a camp, slightly elevated with some Trees and scrub in my back and a nice plain with a cleat view of at leased a 500 yard.
I prop my back pack and my sled against a solid tree, and start looking for firewood and fetch a pot of water from the creek nearby.

I learned not to set up camp right by the water, as certainly in spring the creek can turn into a river over night. And a lot of animals might use the same spot for drinking, and not all of them are friendly.
Though it is still a bit early for a Grizzly to be prowling about, but one never knows.

Camp is set, but still have about two hours before sunset. I grease the string of my crossbow, I have not used it in month, as it was too cold. The Carbon fiber arms and the string would break from the force of the shot.

I decide to go and have a practice, to get myself used to it again. I have a nice “Weinstein” scope on it
and one has to be blind to miss.
I follow the creek for about half a mile, and find some fresh deer tracks. Looks like the same black tail tracks I have seen a couple of days before. I follow them slowly and with caution, and behind a bluff they are. A nice herd of about 8 or nine. I get flat to the ground, and approach them from the rear.
I am about twenty yards from a young buck, who is oblivious to my presents. As the arrow leaves my bow, it leaves with a loud bang. Loud anyway in outdoor terms, but the deer do not react. Only after the arrow strikes the buck, and his yelp of surprise, gets the herd startled.
Though not till he hit the ground did they start running of. He is a welcome dinner, as I have lived of birds and squirrels for weeks.
I take the best parts, do not even bother to gut him. I can not eat him whole, but the wolfs will get the rest before I am back at camp. I take part of the skin though, as I needed to fix my snow shoes and part of the cover on the sled. I will soak it in a solution of warm water and ashes of the fire. The potassium in the ashes will tread the skin and keep it soft.
Back at camp I put on the fire, and burn of more wood then usual to have the extra ashes I need.
I put the hot embers on a second site to cook the meet without burning it. The smell is delicious and I am tempted to eat it before it is ready, but this is a luxury I can not afford.

A lot of diseases and parasites are transmitted by eating undercooked meat, this is not a down town restaurant. The animals here do not get checked by a vet, so it can never be to well done.
I had collected rocks along the creek, that I place on the hot embers, which in turn I cover with the deer fillet,.
I dig a hole in the ground( still frozen), and lay it out with the deer skin-hair down-,and cover it with ashes. After that I fill it with water, so it covers the skin. Hot rocks of the fire ensure the water heats up, without burning the skin. I use the same technique to warm up water to wash myself, once a week.
The dinner made me sleepy, but I still have to hang my gear into a tree. This is, so no bear, coyote, or wolf gets the idea to chew trough it.
The rest of the meat I take 200 yards further uphill, makes sleeping so much safer. The reason to choose a camp site close to underbrush, is that you can hear anything moving from quite a distance. Sound does carry far in the outback.
I roll out my sleeping back, my tent I lost long time ago to the frost. After a very cold night, I tried to take it down, and the fabric broke like glass. So much for arctic expedition gear.
It started snowing a bit, but the flakes are of the weak slushy type, they do not linger on you skin, and melt before you can touch them. I am not even sure it is still freezing. I do have a watch with a thermometer, but I took it of to use the crossbow. Have to get it out of my pack tomorrow, now it is hanging in the tree. I think the best purchase I did was the Gorotex bivouac back it keeps me dry on nights like this.
I fell asleep easily, and do not remember any dreams. But at around five in the morning I am awake in a flash. I do not need any orientation, I can feel the distance to every tree and scrub. I heard something, that made my subconscious alarm bells ring. I wait for a few seconds, and I can hear heavy feet trample
not ten feet away from me, where the deer skin is still soaking in the hole I dug last evening.
There was only one animal that was so fearless, and that was a bear. It was to late to get to the shotgun.
And with a single shot gun, it would be foolish to take the risk. The only option was to lie still and hope he would miss me. It all is a matter what type of bear it is, black bears are a lot more cautious and would only take a risk if they are really hungry. A grizzly though is as curious as a cat. I can feel him not two feet away, and I try to breath as calmly as possible, covering my face with my arms, locking my fingers behind my head. I do keep a dagger in my left arm sleeve, but this is nothing to fight of a bear with. But feeling it gives me the false hope that I still have a chance.
He found me, a rough snout pushes past my left arm and brushes my forehead. His huge paws toss me around a few times, but it seems listless. I decide to stay put and not to move, not that I had much of a choice.
He started to cover me with a lot of dirt, and left. I stayed still for about half an hour and peeled out of what was left of my sleeping back.
I took my rifle and checked that the cartridge was dry and ready, at the same time I moved two more shells into the top of my gloves.

Before I started to get my gear out of the tree, I checked for tracks. I had to make sure it was an adult, and not a cub. If it was a cub, the mother will not be far, and it would be wiser to move on without my gear.
The tracks though indicate an adult male, of maybe six or seven years of age. The marks are deep and large, and the claws are too long to belong to a young bear.
At the tree where I hung my gear, there are scratch marks and the strong smell where he marked his territory.

I can see a trace of blood in the snow, and the green marks of gall. He must have found the carcass of the deer I killed, and that had satisfied his appetite. Lucky for me. Though after a long winter of hibernating, this should not keep him happy for long. And he only buried me, to keep for later.

I got all packed up(repairs can wait for later), and moved on. I aim for higher ground, as the grizzly will stay lower, right where the food is. So I follow the river upstream, as long as my feet can stand the cold water. I like him to loose my track. Eight hours later, I can walk no more. The trees had given away to rocky outcrops, and it was getting a lot colder. I still had cooked meat from last night, and I am too tired to find firewood.
I walk over to a little cliff, not more than 50 yards long and maybe 40 yards high. About ten feet above ground there is a overhang, which almost looks like a cave. There is no direct access to it, and it is foolish in my condition to climb.
I do have one of those survival knives, that have those two pins you can screw in at the side of the handle. These work as an anchor, and a big eye to fasten a rope. I decided to give it a couple of tries, and the knife locked at the first try. At the middle I tied my back pack, and at the end my sled, so that I would not have to climb more than once.
The cliff side proofed to be rough enough to make it an easy climb, on the other hand it would be impossible for the bear to get to me. At least not before I emptied the rest of my ammunition in to him.
I used my sled to sleep on, to keep the cold of me, I slept deep and long, and never laid eyes him again.
It took me two days to fix the marks of his claws.

god walks in snowy ways

I don't know for how long I have been walking, but it seems I have not seen people in month.
The nights are not as cold any more, Spring can not be that far off. I should get down to the valleys, as the cliffs are ripe with avalanches.
I have a cup of tea,it must be around seven in the morning, I can not say for sure. My watch is not that accurate anymore, since the last blizzard.
It stopped working when the the thermometer showed 67,3 Celsius below zero. Just thinking of this night and the message god send me, makes me shiver from deep inside.
I could see it coming, brewing up slowly, with an absolute silence.
The wolf pack that had followed me for the last three month, had disappeared, not to be seen anywhere.
I started looking for a campsite early, not much of a protection around. No rocks or overhangs to shelter, just open plain with a few trees here and there.
I had to get of the plateau, before the wind set in.
It started to snow with no warning at all, thick flakes that stay a long time on your skin, without melting.
I took a guess which way the wind would be blowing from the the way the trees looked, bend like a a slave tired of hard labor. The back arched, not having the power to stand up against its master anymore.
The wind here can be merciless,ready to punish anyone walking proud before him.
I dug myself in below a pine tree, whose branches hang low under the heavy burden of snow. It gave me protection from three sides, which I would desperately need.
I unloaded my heave pack and made sure my rifle was ready in case of any visitors with the same idea.
Taking my hatchet, I walked to the next tree, which was about a couple of hundred yards south east. I needed a good load of branches with a thick layer of needles, to get myself at least 4 feet of the ground. Only having a sleeping bag and no tent, keeping of the frozen ground is essential to survival.
After I dragged my second load over to my camp, the snow started to fall that thick, I could not see three feet ahead. Still I needed more, so I planted every three feet a branch in the snow, to mark my trail. So when I came back with another load, I picked the planted branches, and put them on top of the other load.
It did not seem to cold, I even felt a little warm, from all the heavy going.
Laying out the branches in a cross pattern, I built a mattress a good three to four feet high.
I decided to prepare tea, even though it was a good 2hours before my usual mealtime.
I got a little fire going, and was cutting strips of moose, when the first gust of wind struck.
It took my pot of the fire, like it was made of paper. Looking west I could see, that this was going to be a storm as bad as they get.
I packet up my gear, and tied it secure to the trunk of the tree. I crawled in to my sleeping bag, and covered myself with additional pine branches to create a air cushion around me.
Two hours later I was sure I would not survive the night, the snow build up on top of me was frozen solid and I could hardly move.
My limbs where so numb, that a complete calm overtook me. I prayed to god, to forgive my sins, and told him I was ready to meet him.
The cold left my body, and I started to feel warm. I was feeling so warm that I had to open my sleeping bag and my coat.
I sat up, and there I was sitting like in a glass house, the storm raging out there, but not able to get to me. The branches that covered me had not a bit of snow and ice left on them, they where as green as Spring itself.
I first thought that I was dead, and started looking for my body lying somewhere.
The Storm raged all day and night, and maybe a bit longer.
I felt neither hunger, thirst, tiredness or cold, god had given me a clear message, that my live was not done yet.
After the blizzard I found that the thermometer stopped working at below 67,3.
I packed up, and found a lot of frozen caribou,for the next few days, which saved me going out to hunt.
Looking back over my shoulder, I could see the familiar picture of the wolf pack following my trail.
There would always food to be found where I went, till in the end I would be the food. Nothing to loose for the wolf.

Just a story

I decided to use this blog to tell a story. It will be a slow process as I have to travel back in times long forgotten.
And all travels take time, in today's world as well as in yesterday's.


The most important decision the Guide has ever taken, takes him back right to the beginning, or at least almost.
At four in the morning, a cold April morning, his eyes opened and everything seemed to be crystal clear, he had to get up and go.
He grabbed his back pack and stuffed the few things in it, he thought he needed. And you do not need much when you are fourteen.
A blanket, his hunting knife, some spare trousers and a shirt, and some food.
For many years now he had the feeling that he does not belong here, not in this family not even this country. He had flash backs of times of violence, forests and the feel of cold steel on his cheeks when he put himself to rest.
He always had a good feel for the right blade, he just got born with it. A skill not out of this time though for it is the year 1980.

It's a cold and wet morning, and the rain drizzles till it soaks you right to the bone. It is like everything in live, if it comes down hard, one can run for cover and avoid the worse. But if it sneaks up on you in small doses, you think "yeah, its not so bad", and before you know it it drags you under.
He did not say goodbye to his family, but they did not feel like his family either.
Walking along the free way, leading out of town, he lifts his thump at the first car coming up from behind. it stops about 50 yards ahead, as if knowing, time is of essence, soon they will discover that he has gone.
He is lucky, the driver takes him for the next 400 miles, and he drifts of to sleep, while the heater of the vehicle gives him some comfort.

It is not unusual for him to leave the house that early, as it is job to go out and snare rabbits, for the family to eat.
He had done this from the age of six or seven, when his father gave him his first knife. His dad had always been worried that he would turn out gay, because the guide had more interest in music and dance then football or boxing.
At the age of eleven he asked to be able to take dance classes,a mistake he never made again. Instead he got forcefully put into boxing.
Not that it did him bad, for the first time in live he did fight physically to defend him self.Before he even got beaten up by girls of his class at school. It was not that he was scared, he just did not see the reason to use violence, it did repulse him.
But the boxing made his reflexes come back, like they had been hundreds of years ago. And with it came the anger, it started like a little flame, like those when one kindles a fire, and before the year ended it was burning hot and destructive.
All those people who made fun of him in the beginning, still tried to make fun, but now they where scared. It gave him a different type of solitude,now they kept more a distance, but to the guide it was the same.
Being alone in the mitt's of people, not understanding their petty problems and desires.They have never known real fear, real hunger, or real despair.
Even in this live, live did not give anything for free to him. Born the third in a family of eight, he was the oldest son. His mum having a drinking problem, and his dad being a violent adulterer, there where plenty of days, where there was nothing to eat.
His mum had run away again, and his dad was looking for her.
The only heating they had at home was a coal fired pot belly, and there was no running hot water. Water had to be boiled on the pot belly and than put in a sink bath tub.With eight kids that was a job only a few can imagine, and there would be a bath only once a week.
He had grown harder for it, and the cold has never bothered him much, nor the feel of snow on his bare feet. He was a good hunter, and his pouch full of game, when he returned from checking his snares.
Sometimes there would still be blood on his hands when he got to school, but not one did recognize it for what it was. In this day and age, nobody got blood on their hands any more. The dirty jobs, they get done by some one else.

Time for a break, the driver needed some breakfast. His name was Ralph, and was a student in Frankfurt. The guide took the invitation for breakfast eagerly, for he had no idea when his next meal would be.
Ralph was going to see His girl friend in Stuttgard,and would be able to take the guide to a spot on the motorway, where the choice would be easy, which ever direction he would choose.
They parted with little words and a hearty hand shake. The choice now was where to go, though it was not much of a choice for he could feel the pull south towards the Balkans.
This was a choice which would be important much later in his live. Looking back now, it seems funny that in those days it was no problem for a fourteen year old boy, to cross a border.
There was no European Union as there is today, Yugoslavia was still one country, and even in Austria they would put a stamp in ones passport.
Those are the good memory's. Austria with its beauty full mountains, and friendly people. He spent a few weeks there, doing odd jobs.
Most of the times he spent in the mountains, doing some fishing, and sleeping rough.
But the mountains in spring are dangerous, as the snow can come down in a violent way,with a force that has no match.
But the water in the creeks is sweet, and the midday sun promises a warm summer to come. The nights though where full of bitter frost and a winter that did not like leaving.
He found his way easily among the game tracks, and new the border to Yugoslavia is not far. But it would be better to cross it by road, as with no stamp in his passport there would be a problem to leave the country again.

From the little town of Linz he caught a ride again, that took him straight across the border. A lot of Austrians crossed the border to fill up petrol, that was a lot cheaper in Yugoslavia.
The border guard did not even look at him when he crossed, as he was sitting in a car.
Yugoslavia, still communist, and a travelling and working fourteen year old was nothing unusual. Hitch hiking though was more difficult, as very few owned a vehicle, and the holiday season was still 10 weeks off. Everything here looked grey, not much different from his home town, grey is a very patient colour,and it comes in many shades.

He had to find a job, and get a shelter till the weather cleared up a bit. The chances are higher along the cost, as it is place where all the tourists go.

Hey you, the voice was loud and clear, but was not local. The dialect could have been Dutch. The guide turned slowly, as the voice had not a friendly tone to it.
A man of medium build and about forty years of age, was standing by a tree. Right behind the tree he could just about see a car parked, he must have passed it without noticing it.

" You are not from here, are you?" the man asked with out to much of a haste. No was the only reply he got. "I have to drive to Greece and am really tired, if you need a lift, you can drive and I can sleep. He thought for a while, the stranger did not look dangerous and the guide had not much to loose, so he replied,"have no licences though".
"That does not bother me" came the reply, "but you know how to drive don,t you?" Is the pope a Catholic? smiled the guide.

The stranger introduced him self as Tiany, being from South Africa, but living in Cyprus. That was evident in that the steering of his vehicle was on the wrong side. A nice sports car, with a powerful engine.

"So, where are you from? North from here. that is not very specific is it now? Do you need any specifics? All right, all right, lets get going and we talk later, said Tiany. Wake me if there are any problems, and watch the petrol gauge.

The guide had just driven a few hundred yards when he noticed Tiany's deep snoring. This fellow has a lot of trust, he thought to him self, and kept going.
Hunger is a funny thing, you do not feel it till you pass food. He had not eaten in two days, but it had not bothered him.
Now driving through the little village, the smell of fresh bread and fried fish hit him in the guts like a hammer.

Lucky enough Tiany seemed to feel the same, his eyes opened a little and in a voice like he had never been asleep he said"pull over".
The restaurant was gloomy inside and the smell of humidity unpleasant, but the terrace was nice and sunny. An old grape vine had covered it entirely and hundreds of little grapes looked like summer was still to pass.

"Eat what ever yo like, it is on me" Tiany could have said nothing more welcoming. But the first bite caused a unwelcome pain. the stomach not being used to food any more , wants to refuse.
"you are not saying much, you are not eating much. Are you alright? Tiany looked at the guide with a real concern in his eyes.
" have not eaten for a wile and my stomach hurts a bit, but I will be fine" came the reply.I pack some of the food up and have some more later, now I go outside and have a bit of a wash.
Next to the car was a hosepipe to water the garden,and the cold water was refreshing. Nothing worse than being dirty, said Tiany and took of his shirt to have a wash himself. He was scarred, very scarred. There where scars from bullet wounds and many more from knives, but the biggest was a burn scar that took most of the lower back and went below the belt line.

What happened to the guy that tried to knife you from behind, the Guy asked pointing to a scar that started just above the kidney and stopped short of the third rib.
The first time Tiany looked at him with more than curiosity. "How do you know he stabbed me from behind?"Easy to see, the direction of the cut is indicated by the scar tissue, and the body movement indicates to much force.
I will be damned, Tiany said, how old are you? You can not be older than sixteen or seventeen. Actually fourteen, came the reply.
So how do you know all this, Tiany asked. The guide looked at him for a few seconds, and replied calmly," I understand blades, I do speak their language.
It was this moment that a long lasting friendship was formed, that should change the guides live.
They drove all through Yugoslavia into Greece, and all the way to Athens, where the car went on a ship bound for Lebanon.

They stayed in a small hostel in Brahami, in the workers part of Athens. Tiany waiting for some one, and the guide finding romance, that should save him only a few days later.
Athens was different in those days, then it is today. Papandreus political party nea democratia, had just taken over from a communist dictatorship, and Athens was the trading centre for international terrorists. A dangerous place to be.
Her name was Marina and she was two years older, even though he looked like the older of the two. Not many foreigners yet went to Greece, and the girls liked to show of any foreigner they went out with.
They made love first time on the oily floor of a garage, and many times after that.
The night Tiany went out to meet his contact in the Centre of Athens, a bus load of police got blown up, and changed the streets in to a slaughter house. Police just hit and shot at anything that moved. Tiany got caught up in the middle of it, the street he was on, was locked from both ends, and police was mowing down everybody. He decided to hide below a car and wait for it to blow over.
A cop saw him crawling under the car from the end of the street and moved with angry strides towards him.