A Worst-Case Scenario in Carmacks: Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip

...continued from "Jake's Fear Becomes a Reality during His Absence from Carkmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip"

Even though Jake was miles and hours away, I heard his voice clearly weave through the chaos in my brain:  This is why I didn't want you to stay in Carmacks…alone.  The tone wasn't I-told-you-so; it was more of a sincerely, concerned why-didn't-you-listen-to-me?

Why didn't I listen to him? 

Well, I made this bed….so, I countered her proposal:  "If your friends want to meet me, they'll have to come over here."  I hoped I wouldn't soon regret my recommendation.  My suspicious agitation surged into consternation as I waited for her reply.

"They over there," she said, pointing again to the truck that had magically materialized into my world just moments ago.  This time I looked over at the halfway hidden truck.  My peripheral vision had not deceived me; two males sat in the truck. 

She interrupted my brain trying to discern the situation:  "Just for a minute.  They just over there." 

Pulling up to the red structure with the power lines, the gray pickup nestled between the Carmacks bridge & the brush just off the circle drive, providing them with a clear view of me and allowing me to see into the cab of the truck (after their presence was brought to my attention).

Something's not right (no, I didn't just then draw that conclusion…fraudulent motivations inched toward obvious from the moment I detected this girl).  Something within the obvious creeped me out and caused alarm to claw up my back and scratch its jagged nails up my neck.  This girl wasn't the source of my fear.  So, what was?  The two guys…in the truck….?  My intuition told me I was fine as long as I stayed on the Sundowner.  So…what was causing panic to fester within me? 

Finally, it clicked:  not once since my "discovery" of the two men in the truck--not once--had I seen either of them look my way.  They both just sat in that truck staring straight across the Yukon River.  Why?  They sat there waiting…waiting without wanting to clearly be seen by me.  It was as though they were anticipating a cue…my arrival to their truck perhaps?   A signal from the girl?  From someone else?  Oh God, no--not someone else!  My consternation snapped into fearful exasperation, and my eyes frantically scanned splotches of brush, the nearby bank, far-off tree lines, the distant boardwalk….   

Am I reading too much into this situation?  Or is Worst-Case-Scenario Girl having a heyday because she's missing the threats of daily life on the river?  Maybe I'm being too cautious….

The girl broke into my paranoid rationalizations and tried one last appeal:  "Come.  Meet my friends.  You will see boat from over there," she pressed.  "It's not far.  You still see boat over there." 

And that's what did it--she was offering me a solution to a problem I hadn't voiced.  I quickly drew three possible conclusions about this girl:  she was  1.) smarter than I had realized or  2.) coached well by someone that was taking advantage of her or  3.) the best damn actress I had ever encountered in person.  The skeptic in me highly doubted the latter.  Regardless of which conclusion was closest to the truth, I was done fooling around with the girl and her probable accomplices--no matter how many waited out of sight until a sign was given to move in and carry out their scheme.

Going for something stronger than my previous "subliminal emphasis," I moved to the side & peered into the cabin--as though to assess my unfinished work--knowing her curious, wandering eyes would fall upon the 12 gauge shotgun that was strapped to the center pole of the Sundowner's cabin.  With my hands on my hips, I swung back around, my KA-BAR Kukri Machete flared and flapped more dramatically than before.  "Well, it's time for me to get back to packing up this boat." 

My KA-BAR Kukri Machete

I'm guessing she saw the shotgun, for her presence soon drifted into a memory.  I wasn't trying to threaten her, only trying to plant the idea of the possibility that I could be trouble to her and others if they pushed me too far.  I don't feel that I angered or insulted her…probably just disappointed her--no matter what the real story was. 

True to my word, I got back to work and accomplished Goal #3 by making sure each item that accompanied us on the Sundowner was packed in a logical & memorable place.  Tackling Goal #4 pushed me physically after an already long day…week…month.  Nonetheless, I balanced back and forth between the deck and the boat ramp on our makeshift ramp (part of a tree stand ladder that we used to access the roof of our boat).  I hauled what I could off the boat and grouped items in anticipation of Jake's arrival.
 
After my time-for-work declaration to the girl, I can't recall if any more words were exchanged between us.  I also don't remember her walking off or the truck with the two males driving away (which still puzzles me--how did they get in and out of there without me hearing or seeing them?).  I just know I looked up from my work at one point, and they were gone.  In retrospect, what do I really believe could have happened had I gotten off the Sundowner?  I'm not thinking worst-case scenario like I did during the ordeal (and I believe most would do so in a similar potentially threatening situation).  Rarely does a predicament escalate into a worst-case scenario.  For survival's sake, I had to explore and assume the unimaginable to build a strong defense and eventually offense. 
 
However, hindsight leads me to believe that once I climbed off the Sundowner and trotted over to meet the "friends" in the creepy gray truck, others (unbeknownst to me) would have popped out of their hiding places to grab what they could before I came charging back with my kukri high above my head promising bloodshed if my gear wasn't returned (that is to say if I would have caught up with any of them).  A little more serious possibility could have led to a stolen boat; I shudder to even describe that picture.  Worst-case scenario?  To my knowledge, it didn't come close to that, so I'm not going to go there. 
 
I'm choosing to reflect on this memory as a learning experience with the following lessons:  1.) Being caught off guard always comes after letting your guard down.  2.) In future situations that I perceive as potentially dangerous, I only need to say "no" once.  If my requests/denials are not respected, I will not feel obligated to stay polite.  How I am perceived and how I make the opposing force feel no longer matters once I feel my safety is being jeopardized.  3.) Acknowledge your suspicions and intuitions, yet keep your paranoia in check so that you can think and act rationally to appear in control of yourself and the outcome of the threatening situation.  4.)  Maybe my perception of the situation was entirely wrong.  Maybe the two guys in the truck just wanted to ask about my Yukon River Trip, and they were just too shy to strike up the conversation.  Maybe…I doubt it, but…maybe.

Click here to continue by reading "Alone & Anxiously Awaiting Jake's Return to Carmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip."

 

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Jake's Fear Becomes a Reality during His Absence from Carmacks: Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip

Prior to Packing Up the Sundowner in Carmacks, YT

...continued from "Packing Up the Sundowner in Carmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip"

I threw a "Well, hello!" her way as I sized up my visitor & surrounding areas.  She seemed to be alone, and she seemed to be somewhat young.  How young?  I could not tell.  Based on only appearances, I would have guessed her age to be mid to late teens or maybe early twenties (at most).  She appeared short, though I was aware that her height could've been dwarfed by the difference in our elevations, me on the deck of the Sundowner and her on bank of the Yukon River.  Her dark hair hung straight & long on both sides of her round Indian face.  She smiled a Jack-o-Lantern smile, and among the spaces where I assumed teeth once were, a rotted, black tooth jutted up from her lower gum line.

"Why you have a pirate boat?" she asked.  I knew she was referring to Nurpu's large logo on the sides of our boat and concluded she had been the one, along with others, that had been yelling "Pirate boat!  Pirate boat!" from the Carmacks bridge over the past few days.  
 
"It's the logo of a gear shop where we're from," I responded.

"But why?" she asked.
 
Does she not understand me?  Am I not understanding her question? "Because they are one of our sponsors for this trip," I offered, hoping to appease her question.

"Why pirates?  Are you a pirate?"
 
Am I dealing with a language barrier or what?  She spoke child-like, but why?  I tried another answer:  "No, we're not pirates; we just like pirates."  That seemed to satisfy her interest, or maybe I was frustrating her by not understanding what she really wanted to know.
 
"I come on your boat?" she asked while pointing to the deck of the Sundowner.
 
"Uh, I don't think that's such a good idea."  Oh, nice one, Susan.  My response lacked tack yet oozed truth.  I was shocked at how rude I sounded for two reasons:  1.) I wasn't accustomed to being so blunt, especially to strangers, and 2.) I recognized that apprehension prompted my crass reply.  If Jake was here, he would validate my frank words right after criticizing my self-inflicted abashment.
 
"Why?" she pushed, and uneasiness began to take root in the presence of my mind.
 
If Jake was here, he would have no problem telling her exactly why.  "Well...I've got such a mess up here; I wouldn't want you to you trip over anything and hurt yourself--"
 
"I won't hurt myself," she insisted as she inched toward our makeshift ramp.  Obviously, what I wanted didn't matter to her.  Or, maybe she just wasn't picking up on the fact that I did not want her on my boat.
 
"I really don't have the time to talk.  I've got so much to do; I've got to get this boat cleaned and packed up before my husband returns."  If Jake was here, he would disapprove of me needing to justify my refusal to her request.
 
"I just wanna look," she implored.
 
"You can look from down there while I work up here," I retorted, but somehow I didn't feel she would comply.  If Jake was here....Jake's not here.  Trying to subliminally & further emphasize my stance in the circumlocution of my words, I twisted a bit--like I was stretching out my back.  I did this to make sure she had not missed seeing the black kukri machete attached to my belt.  Mildly flaring out from my waist down as I turned, my knife separated from my profile to reveal 17 inches of "subliminal emphasis."
 
Something stopped her from boarding the Sundowner.  Was it my kukri or my tone?  In that moment I yearned that both appeared inflexible and serious.  Whatever it was dissuaded her from pursuing her prior plan.  If Jake was here, he would commend my deliberate--though nonverbal--attempt to assert my message.
 
"I'm sorry that I don't really have time to talk.  I really do need to keep packing," I offered.  Jake would roll his eyes at my apology and politely enhanced tone.
 
"Why?" she questioned.  Here we go again, I thought.

"I told you that I've got to get this boat all cleaned up and packed before my husband gets back."
 
"Why?"  Seriously?! Is she presumptuous or just shamelessly curious?  Or worse...?
 
"Well...we've got a long drive ahead of us, and I want to have everything ready by the time he gets back."
 
"Where's he at?"
 
Geez!  Is there no end to this girl's questions?  "He went to get our truck and will be right back."  That statement was half true and half not so true.  Jake was getting our truck, but he was hours away from being "right back."
 
Why was I not surprised when she produced another question?  "Where's your truck?"
 
Knowing that my reply probably wouldn't pacify her inquiry, I said, "I told you...with my husband." 
 
"And where's he?"  Okay, where's the hidden camera?  I'm about to blow a gasket; this girl is not for real!
 
"Getting our truck so that we can haul our boat home."  I knew I was sending this conversation in circles, but I did not want to provide her with any more information, and I just didn't have what it would take to tell her to go away.
 
A brief moment fluttered in the air between us as she seemed to decipher my words...or perhaps change her tactics.  "Come meet my friends," she insisted. "They want to meet you."
 
Wait--what friends?!  And before my mouth could form the words, she pointed to her right, toward the bridge. 
 
Suspicious agitation shattered my uneasiness.  Out of the corner of my eye emerged a gray pickup truck--not even 40 yards from me--nestled between the Carmacks bridge and some unkempt brush just off the circle drive.  My peripheral vision detected two male passengers.  Questions spewed and clamored in my head:  When did they get here?  How long have they been here?  How did I not hear their truck?  What did they want? 
 

Click here to continue by reading "A Worst-Case Scenario in Carmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip.

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Packing Up the Sundowner in Carmacks: Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip

...continued from "A Dilemma & Departure in Carmacks:  Day 18 of the Yukon River Trip"

Jake's departure propelled me into action; I probably had more work than I could fit into his anticipated 4-hour absence.  I welcomed the work that sprawled around me because it left no time to ponder & fret over Jake's journey.  A strategy surfaced, and I launched my campaign to triumph over the endless job of prepping & packing for our long drive home. 
 
I had four major goals:
1.)  dress man-like in order to not draw attention to myself as a lone female on our alluring boat that surely held desirable souvenirs for those with bold, corrupt intentions
2.)  dry out the boat, tarps, floor mats, gear, shoes, and clothes to avoid mildew & ruin on the week-long return drive home
3.)  put away all belongings in a logical & memorable place
4.)  group tubs, bags, & gear according to where they should be placed in the Expedition for possible access or non-access for the 3,300-mile journey
 
To attempt Goal #1, I dressed in gray North Face zipoff pants, my heavy boots, a zipped-up black fleece jacket, and a camo baseball cap that hid my long hair from distant, curious onlookers that might bring unwanted distractions & delays to my day's objective.  Feeling alone & possibly vulnerable, I randomly caught myself at times mimicking mannish mannerisms & movements, hoping to convince onlookers that I was able to hold my own--whether or not they bought my masculine character.
 
Initiating Goal #2, I began to gather & spread various items, ranging from damp to drenched, on any & all available spaces that would possibly catch a draft of the Yukon wind blowing through Carmacks that morning.  Due to the limited sites that captured the Yukon sun & wind in the Sundowner's position, I was continually draping & redraping our first batch of saturated possessions to capitalize on sunlight & wind before swapping the thoroughly dried items with the next significant soggy set.
 
At some point, I realized that I was not the only being hard at work; I noticed locals working their fishing nets on the opposing bank of the Yukon River.

First Nation Families Attending to Their Fishing Nets Across the Yukon River
Carmacks, YT, Canada

While the welcomed & much appreciated summer sun dried our gear, it also forced me to shed the layers of my manly costume to make my vigorous task bearable.  Well aware that I would no longer possibly pass as the opposite sex, I continued my work in my camo hat, black tank top, gray pants, & Chacos...still trying to appear as valiant as possible.

It was during my employment of Goal #3 when Jake's dreaded prediction of trouble became a reality & paid me a visit.  As I hopped and balanced and maneuvered through the maze of my organized stacks & piles on the deck of the Sundowner, I detected my approaching visitor.  She was already 10 feet from boarding the Sundowner when I first saw her.  How did she get this close without me noticing?  Jake would not approve.

Click here to continue by reading "Jake's Fear Becomes a Reality during His Absence from Carmacks:  Day 19 of the Yukon River Trip."

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