“Hey, we’re in Circle 151 miles in,” Mingo tells me. “We have a problem. I pulled a shoulder.”

The connection was bad and we got cut off before he had time to give me any real details about his shoulder. All I really know is he can still move it but there’s no power behind it. Oh, and he caught up with the German kayakers – three of them one of whom is named Ulley, a police officer from Munich.

Still hoping he will call back tonight. Damn sat phone. Will let everyone know when I get an update.

“Hey. I’m 110 miles in at Slaven’s Roadhouse in Yukon Charley. Yesterday was fun. Today was much more difficult. I’m definitely on the sore side,” Mingo tells me. “It poured for the first 3 hours. All you can do is sit in the boat, put your head down and paddle. The headwind was bad.”

“The hydraulics of this river are really weird. There is so much debris floating in it. You’ll come across these little eddies that push the boat four or five feet to one side. It’s a good thing I’ve got a long boat. Helps to keep me a little more steady,” Mingo continues. He sounds tired but fascinated with the Yukon’s personality, especially right now when she’s so full of water and debris. “There’s all kinds of stuff slapping the underside, debris getting knocked into the boat. It’s a pretty interesting river to kayak.”

“What is Slaven’s Roadhouse,” I ask.

“It’s an old cabin from the gold mining era that’s now been made into a public use area,” he tells me. “I’m going to take some pictures around here, write in my journal and head to bed. I’m getting ready to take some naproxen. I’m pretty sore.”

“I’m glad I got 60 miles in today. In 2½ days I should be in Yukon Flats.” We quickly say our goodbyes then hang up so he can get done what he needs to then go to sleep. Exhilarating but exhausting. Sounds Mingo’s type of day on the water.

I reach for the phone on the first ring. There is crackling then silence. A few minutes later it rings again – same thing. The third time I say hello and hear “Um, Houston, we have a problem.” Then silence.

I quick redial the sat phone number but only get the stupid voicemail prompt. I’m hoping that his quip was an attempt at humor about the crappy sat phone connection and not an indication that something was really wrong. His voice sounded fine, no stress but then again I only heard it for two seconds. I wait for the phone to ring again.

And continue to wait…

Finally, the phone rings again. I pick it up for the fifth or sixth time and hear a garbled “Hello.” A second of silence passes then another “Hello” this time much more clear. Finally, we have a good sat phone connection.

“I paddled 50 miles today and am in Nation, a little ranger’s cabin in Yukon Charley,” Mingo quickly tells me. “I’m staying here tonight.” He sounds excited, much of the anxiousness of yesterday having disappeared from his voice. (So yes, the Houston comment was humor!)

“I didn’t start out until around 9am this morning. Pretty hard six hour day. I could use a good rub-down but I don’t think anyone is going to come up here and do that,” he chuckles. “Got hit by a thunderstorm. Lots of lightening. I had to come ashore until it was over,” he continues.

He asks how things are going back here. There’s not much to relay especially compared to his exciting day. We quickly wrap up conversation. Time is of the essence now. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow night and let you know how far I got,” he says.

As I hang up the phone I think of a variety of other things to ask him. How was the paddle? How is the river? Did he see any animals? I was so wrapped up in just finding out he was OK that I completely spaced on asking him anything of importance. Oh, and I need to tell him not to start out the conversation with the “Houston we’ve got a problem” phrase unless it’s true. Gets a girl all worried!

When I pick up the phone, all I hear is rustling. “Hello?”

“Hey, Lib. Right now I’m sitting on the bank of the Yukon and I’m scared as shit,” Mingo says, slightly out of breath. “It’s a big river.” There’s more rustling then the sat phone cuts out for minute. When the phone comes back I hear him chuckle. “There is a ton of debris in the river. Whole trees floating down the river.” He pauses for a second, then continues, “I think once I get in the boat I’ll calm down.” Right now, however, he sounds anxious and worried.

“I talked with the ranger here today. He seems to think I’ll be fine if I’m as good as I say I am. He said be careful with all the streams that break off. Be patient with it. I may end up a mile down a stream that just ends then have to paddle back. I wish I’d brought some marshmallows.” Sometimes the oddest things come up during our conversations, I think to myself.

“Marshmallows?” I ask. “Yeah. You throw them on the water. ‘Cause they’re so light they float with the strongest current. Helps you to know what way the water’s flowing,” he explains. He pauses again as he walks through something noisy (tree brush? I have no idea what he’s doing while we’re talking.).

Abruptly the topic changes. “Everything in Eagle by the water is completely destroyed. Probably lost 20 houses that were down by the water. And the Laundromat and a store are gone too. I’m sending you some pictures of it.” The sat breaks up again and when he comes back he’s talking about the river again. “I think the kayaking is going to be fairly easy. It’s navigating the river that’s going to be tough.” I can hear the apprehension creep back into his voice.

Then he laughs. “I was talking to a custom’s agent and he told me that two German guys left from here a few days ago. They built a raft out of 50 gallon drums. They’re gonna have a tough time when the river flattens out.” He laughs again, which is good to hear. Maybe he’ll have some companions on the river for a day or two.

“Well, just wanted to let you know I got here and am ready to go,” he says quickly. We must be reaching our time allotment for today. The sat phone has a limited battery (about 4.5 hrs) so we have to keep our conversations short. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow night.” We hang up and I jot down a few notes for myself. Talking to him made me anxious about what he’ll face tomorrow.

An hour later the phone rings again and it’s Mingo. “Hey, just wanted to tell you my truck won’t be back in Tok until tomorrow.” I’m surprised to hear from him again since we already talked one minute over our limit in our earlier conversation. (Plus, we had already talked about the truck the day before.)

“I kept forgetting to tell you that,” he continued, “And I needed to hear a human voice again.” He sounds calmer now, not so frantic, but I can still hear the thick layer of anxiousness in his voice. “You’ll never believe how warm it is here right now. It’s probably 75 degrees right now. Man, Tok was cold compared to this.” Warmth is good, even if he did repack all his clothes to account for colder weather.

He asks how I’m doing and how things are going out here. We chat for a minute about the hot and humid weather in middle Tennessee before it’s time to hang up again. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow night. I’m going to be up by 4, 4:30ish and want to start paddling first thing,” he tells me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow and I’ll be down the river.”

We hang up and I look at the phone – another five minute and thirty-second phone call. Normally, I’d worry about the extra time, but today I know he’ll have the opportunity to do one last quick charge on all the equipment. As I put the phone away and wander back upstairs, I hope that he’s able to put the anxiousness aside for a bit so he can get some rest. I’m already looking forward to hearing about his first day on the river.

« Newer Posts