Wednesday July 20th, 2022
The Atlin Whisper “Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world.” Margaret Mead
ON THE ROAD III
By Paul Lucas
Speaking of Guardian Angels Alaska Hwy.Enroute-Ft Nelson. The sky had cleared, and the sun was making up for lost time by trying to blind me as it reflected off the snow. I was rounding a long left curve when I saw it - a vehicle on its side, down the slope, with its roof resting on several spruces. Somebody had evidently found himself in the same diabolical situation as myself just hours before, but wasn’t lucky enough to get away with it. The tire tracks were faint, meaning the car had gone in before the storm. That presented various possible scenarios. If the driver was still inside, he had been there for a while. Not good. If there was no-one inside, it could mean two things: he had climbed out and flagged down a passing vehicle or; he had hit his head and had wandered off somewhere. I pulled over, grabbed my shovel, and plunged over the bank. Crawling up over the now vertical floorboards, I swept the snow off the driver side windows. No-one. No blood anywhere though. I slithered back down and started looking for tracks. They would be mostly obliterated by now, but there had to be traces somewhere. There was no sign that the driver had wandered into the trees, so I kept looking. To my relief, I saw a set of indentations, barely visible and with an odd trajectory, but heading up towards the bank and over the shoulder. These were met with a faint set of tire tracks a little further down the highway, indicating someone had come along shortly after. Phew! I had far too many close calls to take any of this lightly. The problem is not just the accident and the possibility of hitting something as you leave the road, it’s the cold. That’s why in the winter, everyone in the North carries a shovel, a sleeping bag and candles. You don’t know how long you are going to be there, whether or not someone else happens to be on the road at the same time and, if they are, whether or not they happen to see you. My own luck on these roads has involved horseshoes - many horseshoes - uncomfortably applied. Also involved, it seems, have been small, strategic landing pads sent directly from heaven – highly unlikely statistical occurrences of flat areas about the size of a Honda Civic, that show up at specific locations just moments before I plunge over the bank. In both cases, one to the left and one to the right, the car lost contact with the road, spun 360 degrees and landed with a mighty clang dead centre on the only unobstructed flat spot within miles. Oddly enough, this landing luck seems to extend to all types of activities, including one where I tumble backwards off my cabin wall. --Atlin,Summer,1979. ‘Keep your building area clear,’ say the old guys. ‘Oh, sure. I’ll get around to it, but first… ’