Year: 2022

EPISODE 554 PART 5 AUGUST 9 TO AUGUST 8, 1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE

EPISODE 554 PART 5 AUGUST 9 TO AUGUST 21, 1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE
alan skeoch March 17, 2022

I think this picture captures how miserable our job became. What the picture misses is the thrill of being alone in a real wilderness.
NOTE: My pictures are not great as all I had was a little Kodak Brownie that leaked light. Pics are sure authentic however. Without the pics you might think the whole ordeal was a construct of my mind. Believe it or not my former boss, Norman Paterson…”Doctor Norman Paterson”…the man who sent me on this secret mission. Well he just sent me a picture of his early days in mining exploration where he is using a scrub board and pail of water to wash his clothes. We did not have the luxury of a scrub board. As I read my Diary the memories flood back. Regrets? Not one. This was a rite of passage into adulthood. Adversity could be handled.

> > > > Pilot delivering mail and taking Floyd out of the bush to a new job in Michigan. Imagine the shock we felt when our lead man, Flory Faulkner, was suddenly flown out leaving Bob, Walt and I to suddenly take over the project. We still had “miles to go before we sleep”, as poet Robert Frost wrote. >
> > NOTE: There were other surprises on August 8. Our black bear had paid a visit to the Base Camp. Somehow he managed to climb the tree where our meat cache was stored. Or maybe he just lowered the rope. > Our 20 pound cooked ham was gone.
> How did the bear do it? >
> > > The bear also ripped this hole in our cook tent and then rummaged around for food. He did not pop open the canned goods thankfully. > Why did he not use the front door flap? Some cans were bent but his teeth did not cut the can open. I suppose the bear damage could have been worse it it was a female bear with a bunch of cubs. Tracks indicated single bear.
> August 9, 1958 > > Bob Hilkar spent the day reorganizing our targets while waiting for a new > man to be flown in from South Porcupine. This gave us a chance to do our washing…clothes and bodies. We were all covered with > layer after layer of fly repellent along with smoke from our cook fires. The dirt is not all bad since it seems to make us less appealing to > the flies…moose flies, deer flies, mosquitoes, black flies, sand flies, ground wasps, blow flies. Why list them again? Because their presence is a constant reminder of how miserable our life had become. > > But good things happen. What a great day. We gorged ourselves on the fresh food knowing it would not last once the bear and the blow flies got wind of it. > So we had steaks, fresh vegetables, some bananas and one whole watermelon. > > The bear must have been watching close by on the opposite river bank. There he stood for a moment like a big black rock. > I got a shot of him with my camera but he was too far away and > too quick to clear out. > > August 10, 1958 >

This picture gives some idea of the difficulties we faced in these boreal forest wetlands. Very charming from the vantage of an airplane seat…but a nightmare to cross in a straight line. Ronka E.M. unit surveys relied upon a scientific grid so that any anomaly could be mapped. Which meant obstructions had to be overcome. Pick a straight line through this swampland and then think of your poor feet. A;; that nice green stuff is spongy moss…bloody difficult to walk on. The larger green patches are tag alder bushes….the kind that Robert Hopkins sliced himself on the bounce back of his blazing axe. We really found open spots as big as this. All the same most of our work in 1958 involved swampy wetlands with windfalls.

> We packed the canoe and headed downstream…i.e. north, for the Groundhog River flows north to James Bay which is part of > the huge Hudson’s Bay watershed. “Another swamp camp, boys, pack lightly.” We cut line eastward from the river for half a mile > where we struck a trap line and decided to follow it in the desperate hope we would reach the new anomaly without the work of > blazing. But we were disappointed for the trappers trail began to angle north rather than east. > > This must be the trapper who left his traps open for some reason when he took his first out in the spring. Or he had died. We were > constantly finding open traps on the creeks and beaver dams. Some had the skeletons of dead animals and a couple had > been recently snapped shut on the legs of a mink and a muskrat. Why do this unnecessary killing? Leg hold traps are really > inhumane for they hold the animal in great distress. Some animals chew their own legs off to make an escape. >

> We retraced out steps and went back to base camp #1 resolved to try to reach the eastern anomaly again tomorrow…this time > blazing a trail as we packed in. No easy task to blaze while carrying everything needed in huge packs. > > As we returned up river we noticed something large and white on the river shore. It was a large moose head complete with > a perfect set of antlers. “You want it, Al?” “Sure do.” So we wedged the thing in the canoe and I planned to get it back to Toronto > one way or another. > > Distance covered: 16,000 feet (mostly wasted) >
> > > My trophy from the Groundhog River job…a moose head found on the banks of the Groundhog River. >
> > > Photo was taken earlier in summer because my hair is short and no beard. But picture makes point that Walter and Bob and me are now > a three man crew after Floyd was taken from us. We needed a fourth man and got Robert Hopkins on a return flight. >
> > > By midsummer, I was a darn sight thinner. > > August 11, 1958 > > Walt and I were sent upstream (southwards in other words) about a mile and half with orders to extend > the trail we had cut back on July 24. Almost immediately this became extremely difficult a we hit an alder swamp about 800 feet wide > with water at various depths. Alder shrubs are very difficult to slash on dry land as they are thin and > elastic like. A swipe with a blazing axe does nothing unless the cut is aimed close to the ground. And when severed the decapitated > alder remain as a giant spike capable of penetrating our gum rubber boots. In this swamp cutting was super difficult as > the alder roots were under the water. Swinging an axe for an underwater cut is just about impossible. To make matters worse > in the centre of the swamp was open water…a large stream. So we had to build another bridge. >

> As if these problems were not big enough, we came across a number of water snakes of various length. > > While returning to camp we startled up another bull moose. More moose in here than people., >

> Distance travelled: 16,000 feet > > August 12, 1958 > > Stormy weather until late afternoon when sky cleared and Austin Airways sent in the Beaver with our new man, Robert Hopkins. > First bush job for him…he is about my age…hope he can handle a blazing axe. > > August 13, 1958 > > We packed food supplies and placed them in a cache using trail cut on August 10. Then we extended the trail for a mile and a half. > Robert Hopkins is nice enough but has never handled an axe before and keeps swinging at thin branches. Axe bounces back…very > dangerous. “Hit where the branch joins the tree.” Wish he would do this as his actions are dangerous. > > The swamp apples are ripe…big orange berries on a small ground plant in the swamps. Sweet taste…too sweet really. > > Water on the river is low again so many areas have rapids. We got caught in a cross eddy which turned us broadside to > the river flow and then jammed us on the rocks. The canoe did not overturn as we pushed and pulled it back from the > rocks and shot down a kind of chute. Only damage was a punctured bow. > > Distance Covered” 21,000 feet > > August 14, 1958 > > Rain again…all day long until 8 p.m. at night. Spent day reading and talking. > > August 15, 1958 > > Today we moved our cache of food two miles deeper towards future Swamp Camp #2 then blazed new trail another mile to our objective which is > a branch of Hicks Creek. The temperature hovered around 35 degrees all day. Damn cold, especially so since leaves and trees are still wet from > the rain yesterday. Absolutely miserable. Shivered from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. End result was a trail to our new fly camp. We trekked out to the Groundhog > River and back to Base Camp. Tomorrow we will pack in our instruments, tent, sleeping bags and cooking gear to Swamp Camp #2. > > Distance covered 31,500 feet > > August 16, 1958 > > Packed canoe with essentials and motored north on river to strike point of departure eastward on new trail to Swamp Camp #2. Three miles. > We passed by our earlier food Cache in order to set up tents as fast as possible then Robert and I went back for the food. Bob Hilkar and > Walter built large elevated spruce bough bed for the four of us to try to sleep upon. “Try to sleep” that is. > > Weather has become much colder. Frost in the morning. > > Distance covered: 22,000 feet (about 4 miles plus) >
> > > Swamp Camp #2 is miserable >

Notice how boldly the blaze stands out in the gloomy darkness of the boreal forest. A well blazed trail is easy to traverse from one blaze to another as long as blazes are on both sides of the tree and directly on line. However it is Not easy to do the survey with a Ronka hoop of dense packed copper wire hanging from shoulders. I’ll bet you did not even see Walter Helstein leaning against the tree. This is what we did…day in and day out… all summer long. Then returned to sleep on a pile of pine and cedar boughs after supper of whatever seemed edible. You probably thought geophysical prospecting was easy. Wrong.
> August 17 > > Rain and extreme cold weather kept us in our sleeping bags all day. This search for an anomaly is going badly and will take longer > than expected so we decided to ration our food supply. French toast with no eggs and canned milk and stale bread is a luxury. Slabs left over are slated with jam or peanut butter to make a kind of lunch. Hot tea made in a juice can over a small fire is rather nice until the tea runs out. Then we use Labrador tea leaves. I rate them as OK. Those are the leaves with white fuzz underneath…lots around. > > August 18, 1958 > > This terrible forest collected its pound of flesh today as we succeeded in cutting two miles deeper to the east. Our clothes were soaked > by showers twice. And we had to wade across a creek once. Sun came out later thankfully. > > Compass problems again as the Brunton and Silva compasses give slightly different directions. Our error or compass defect? > Or powerful anomaly.
> Distance covered: 24,000 feet (nearly five miles) > > August 19, 1958 > > Hard day. Seems all the work days are hard days and this one is no exception. We cut line in a generally southern direction. > Then all work stopped when Robert Hopkins cut his hand with a blazing axe. Bad cut. I wrapped it with a rough tourniquet and stopped > the bleeding. Will it heal? Or will we have to get him out by bush plane? > > Distance travelled 29,000 feet >
> > > August 20, 1958 > > Twelve hour trips on our blazed trails are not easy. No one, and I mean no one, will ever understand how hard this job has become. > We thought Robert’s injury yesterday would heal but today he sliced himself again…right to the bone. He had never handled an axe before > and chose to ignore instructions and kept swinging at twigs and light branches. His axe bounced back of course and this second time > cut himself damn close to an artery. Looks like some tendons may be severed. Surely not. We washed the blood from the wound and then applied another > tourniquet made from strips of my shirt…picked the cleanest parts we could rip. > > By evening his hand had swollen up and he was in severe pain. Gave him some sulpha hoping that would help him sleep. Nothing we could > do until dawn and then we must make fast tracks back to the river and motor down to our Base camp where we could radio for an emergency > flight to get Robert out to hospital. Getting out of this camp will take all day. No hope for an emergency flight until tomorrow. > Infection is a big worry. > > Distance covered 29,500 feet…very difficult terrain peppered with tag alder and windfalls. >

> > Robert Hopkins was hired to replace Floyd but just did not work out. He cut himself badly twice when his blazing axe bounced off some light branches > of tag alder. He was warned not to hit light branches but to aim his cuts at places where branches joined the main trunk. Getting him out was a > real exercise for us…Took 2.5 days and by then infection had set in. Looked like tendons were cut as well. Our tourniquet stopped the bleeding but > we could do little to arrest infection. > > > August 21, 1958 > > Robert’s hand is now discoloured which is a sure sign of infection. First Aid kit is little use at this point. We must get him out. > So began the long hike to our canoe at the river and then motoring five miles upstream to our base camp where we sent an SOS > call. Plane arrived and Robert Hopkins was no longer part of our crew. All of us a little depressed.
END PART 5 AUGUST 21,1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD
EPISODE 6 BEGINS AUGUST 22, 1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD
alan skeoch March 17, 2022

March 17, 2022
EPISODE 553 PART 4 AUGUST 1 TO AUGUST 8, 1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE

EPISODE 553 PART 4 AUGUST 1 TO AUGUST 8, 1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE

alan skeoch

March 15, 2022

DEAR DIARY

AUGUST 1, 1958

Walt and I cut 6,000 feet of line south 20 degrees west from swamp camp. I think we hit our destination within 100 feet of spot

located on our aerial photo. We struck a creek at the precise place on the photo.

In the evening I patched my clothes with medical tape and canvas patches (plus some glue). It’s getting difficult to distinguish

pants from patches.

Distance 12,200 feet (around 2 miles)

August 2, 1958

Although the northern anomaly is not quite as detailed as desirable we cannot spend another day working there.

I caught a baby rabbit this morning and we placed him in a bag and hung it on a tree intending to keep him as a pet

but while we were away he escaped.

As we returned to camp a hurricane-like storm hit suddenly. The sun was completely blackened out and then came high

velocity winds strong enough to tear trees out by their roots throwing them around as if they were match sticks. Some

of these new windfalls blocked our trail. I have never in my life seen such a storm. Ferocious. Nature weeding out the

sick and the dead I suppose.

Distance covered 30,000 feet (6 miles)

August 3, 1958

The storm railed all night…including lightning and torrential rain. Frightening but wonderful at same time. Good thing too for now

our water supply has been replenished and, more important, the supply plane will be able to land back at our base camp

on the Groundhog River maybe although not expected until August 8.

In the afternoon Walt and I hiked out of the swamp camp to our base camp for more food. So many trees across our trail that

we had to cut new bypasses.

Distance travelled 21,000 feet (4 miles)

August 4, 1958

Completed Ronka survey of anomaly 18 south of swamp camp #1. Sure must be something beneath us since the compass seemed

very slow and contradicted itself on the backsights. Probable magnetite ore body as airborne mag suggested. We cut 5,000 feet of

new line.

Tired at night but relaxed as we traded stories around the campfire. There is a feeling of exhilaration when living this close to nature.

Our plotted data profiles showed clear presence of something since both instruments reacted…the X ray magnetometer and the

horizontal loop Ronka EM unit. “How did the Ronka get its name?” “Inventor guy…physicist…works for Huntec…his machine.”

The Ronka Electro Magnetic Instrument was the most important part of our survey work. And it was heavy consisting of two large

hoops of closely wound copper wire (see above) . Both hoops were attached together by a 100 foot electric cable and signals

were received by a console carried by one of the men. On ordinary surveys this instrument was heavy. Our survey work meant

we had to carry a hell of lot more than the Ronka…tents, sleeping bags, food, clothes, first aid kits, axes, a buck saw, pots and pans…etc.

Vaino Ronka

ADVERTISEMENT

Vaino Ronka

The most powerful instrument is the one that is used. If that motto is true, then Vaino Ronka invented the most powerful electrical geophysical instrument. More of his VLF electromagnetic survey instruments have been used around the world than any other electrical prospecting tool.

Biography

A native of Finland, Ronka studied communications engineering and later geophysics at a university in Helsinki. After graduating, he worked for the Geological Survey of Finland and, in the early 1950s, was hired by Aeromagnetic Surveys, a division of Hunting Survey Corp., then based in Toronto.

Yet the VLF-EM was only one of Vaino’s many successful geophysical instrument designs. In the 1960s, a list was published of all the mines discovered in Canada during the previous 10 years. Out of 15 mines on the list, about 75 percent were discovered by Ronka-designed instruments.

Vaino Ronka began his work in geophysics as a research assistant on a new fixed-wing, quadrature-phase, airborne electromagnetic system at the Geological Survey of Finland. When the Hunting Group in Toronto purchased the system in 1953, Vaino moved to Toronto to help design a two-frequency version of it for commercial use. Nine months later, in September 1954, it was in operation, and won the Blue Ribbon Mining Award.

In July 1954, Vaino applied for a patent for an in-phase and quadrature towed bird helicopter EM system. When the system went into operation in 1955, it included a built-in scintillation counter, also of his design, and was one of the first transistorized commercial instruments of any kind. It again won the Blue Ribbon Award. About this time, Vaino began to think of an improved horizontal-loop ground EM system. When it appeared in the field in 1957, it set the standard for ground-based EM systems. At the end of 1958, Vaino started independent design services for geophysical instruments. One of the projects was instrumentation for Hunting’s “hydrosonde.” He also designed Hunting’s FS-I and FS2 portable seismographs and the popular Hunting time-domain IP receiver.

In 1962, Vaino founded Geonics Ltd in Toronto with partner Alex Herz. While they were in the field near Bancroft, Ontario, doing tests on the EM-IS ground EM instrument, they started picking up Morse code from VLF radio transmitters used to communicate with submarines. If these signals could be picked up as noise, Vaino figured that they could also be used as signal. Thus instead of tediously erecting a heavy, cumbersome, local transmitting station for every small piece of survey line, explorationists might simply tune in to distant VLF radio stations and use those fields to detect mineral deposits. This was the basis of his EM-16 VLF-EM receiver, which was first sold in 1965. Because of its very small size and low price the EM-16 became the best-selling electrical geophysical instrument of all time, and is still selling briskly today, under the same model name, 25 years later. Its tendency to detect weaker conductors has recently been put to very good advantage, as gold mineralization is often associated with poorly conducting fault zones.

Vaino went on to design the EM-18 as an airborne VLF instrument. Another airborne survey system, the EM-30 of Hudson Bay Mining, was also based on Vaino’s patent and ideas. In 1969, Vaino had a heart attack. It was a warning to slow down a little. He sold Geonics, and in 1973 he escaped west to Vancouver. There he designed the successful “Totem VLF-EM system which was further developed by Alex Herz. Vaino did not like the “black box” airborne gravimeter that was in use in Toronto geophysical community during 1960. He built his own gravimeter with a simple galvanometer to measure electrostatic potential between the plane and the outside air.

Vaino was recognized by SEG for his major contributions to the geophysical profession with the Fessenden Award in 1990.

August 5, 1958

Walt and I began blazing trail west 248 degrees but rain began after we had gone 600 feet forcing us back to camp.

“Your turn to hike back to base camps for food, Al.” I wonder if the other guys get scared when they are alone

in this dense forest? Do they imagine wild things are watching them? Do they hear strange noises? Do they run?

Do they stop and slowly rotate around 360 just in case there is something? They never say, so I best keep my mouth

shut as well. Back at base camp I tested the radio transmitter which receives fine but just will not transmit. If we

ever have a serious injury, how the hell are we going to get help? Since Walt and I are swinging blazing axes almost

every day, the odds of an accident are possible.

Arrived at base camp about five and cooked myself a big supper…2 cans of stew, 1 can of peaches, 1 box cookies and 3 cans

of orange juice. Then packed up a lot of dry goods to carry back to Swamp Camp #1. No canned goods allowed as they

are too heavy so the guys will have to make do with a lot of rolled oats and pancakes and my favourite French toast. One

heavy item is allowed. Peanut butter…we eat lots of that.

Slung the pack on my back and headed west again hoping it would not get dark before I reached Swamp Camp #1.

Arrived at 9 p.m.

Distance travelled: 22,200 feet (4 miles)

August 6, 1958

Walt and I continued blazing our trail to Anomaly #16…west 248 degrees from Swamp Camp #1. This section of the bush is

woven with windfalls like a broken box of pick up sticks. At western edge we struck two creeks needing bridges. Construction

took a long enjoyable time. Enjoyable? Yes, weather was perfect so we took our time. Waded in our bare feet. Then we

continued to point of the anomaly.

That night I collected some very strange luminous wood that we had been noticing all around Swamp Camp #1. Eerie effect looking

out of our tent at the pin pricks of light. It seems to be some kind of fungus acting upon rotting wood. Dark nights give our camp

a ghost-like appearance. My luminous collection was a failure though.

Distance covered: 13,000 feet (2.5 miles or thereabouts)

Walt and I built two of these bridges. The construction project was enjoyable … especially for our feet.

August 7, 1958

Tiring day as usual.

Finished blazing grid for Anomaly #16, then did survey with the Ronka which gave us some high readings

that checked out with the magnetometer. We are here in secret … wonder if any of these anomalies have been

staked as mining claims. Dr. Paterson said our crew was sent in hope that no one would know we are here. Hardly

secret if Austin Airways is hired to get us in and out. Pilots talk.

Distance covered: 20,500 feet (about 4 miles)

August 8, 1958

Big day today. Austin Airways Beaver arrived. Floyd and Bob packed out to Base Camp to meet the plane while

Walt and I were left behind to break up Swamp Camp #1 and follow them later. We had to sort things into two piles…those

worth taking and those to be abandoned and burned.

We arrived in afternoon and were shocked to find Floyd gone. He was being sent to a new project

in Michigan. That changes things. We will be leaderless it seems. But Bob will take over. I have been elevated a notch to second in command which means darn little.

During our absence from Base Camp a black bear paid a visit and managed to get our twenty point ham which we had strung

up high in a tree. Then for some reason the bear decided to get into the cook tent and rummage around. He did not use

the front door of the tent but ripped a big hole in the side.

This was a really eventful day for not only did we get a new supply of food but also a big pile of mail.

Why did I get so many letters?…huge pile of them. Most had American stamps and I do not know that many Americans.

Some smelled of perfume. At first I thought they had been sent to the wrong person but opening the first one read

“Dear Alan”. These were some kind of love letters…maybe 30 or 40 from all over the United States. One girl, writing in

pencil, wanted to live with me if I could send her the fare to get here. That was a laugh. Imagine the shock she would

find. Perhaps I would have the greater shock though. A lot were from nurses and some of them were damn interesting…well written…lonely hearts stuff.

Some of the girls told horrifying stories about their living conditions Abuse, poverty, desire to escape no matter what.

How come? Why send these letters to me? Mystery was solved. In the mail pack were two letters from Russ Vanstone and Jim Romaniuk…they had sent my

name and address to a lonely hearts club in the U.S. Bob, Walt and I enjoyed all the letters…read them over and over

again for the rest of the summer. Most of them made me feel sad…there were strong overtones of desperation.

Distance Covered: 10,500 feet

Pilot delivering mail and taking Floyd out of the bush to a new job in Michigan.

END PART 4 AUGUST 1 TO AUGUST 8, 1958 WIRST JOBE I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE.

NEXT PART 5

March 16, 2022
EPISODE 552 part 3 JULY 23 TO JULY 31, 1958 — WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE

EPISODE 552 part 3 JULY 22 TO JULY 31, 1958 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE

alan skeoch

March 15,2022

I realize the previous Episode 551 was too long for casual reading so will make this one shorter

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March 15, 2022
EPISODE 551 PART TWO JLUY 2 TO JULY 22 1958…WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE…HATED AND LOVED IT AT SAME TIME: GROUNDHOG RIVER WILDERNESS 1958 (parts 3 and 4 coming next)

EPISODE 550 PART TWO, JULY 2 to JULY 22, 1958… WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE…HATED AND LOVED IT AT SAME TIME: GROUNDHOG RIVER WILDERNESS 1958

“Red, you go down to Jane and Bloor with Alan…This job he has taken makes me nervous.”

“Awww Mom, I will be fine.”

“Then why are the men not picking you up at home.”

“Don’t know.”

“And they are taking you God knows where for the whole summer…Men you do not know taking

you into wilderness where no one lives…bears, moose and flies.”

“They will train me as a Field Man in Geophysics…modern prospector.”

“I don’t care if they’re training you as a dog catcher…I want your father to meet them.”

“Mom, all I really want to get is my Bushman’ s Thong from our 38th Rover Scout crew.”

“No matter, our your father is going down to meet this Floyd character anyway.”

“HOP IN THE TRUCK, ALAN, WE HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO” (Dad presided then waved good bye(

Floyd wedged me in between him and Bob with the floor shift gear rod in between my legs…That lasted until we got

about 100 miles out of Toronto when I suggested I crawl in the back on top

of the tents and survey gear. Hell of lot more comfortable as we headed north on the day

long drive to South Porcupine.

THE summer of 1958. Unforgettble. Proud I had guts enough to stand it.

EPISODE 550 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE…HATED AND LOVED IT AT SAME TIME: GROUNDHOG RIVER WILDERNESS 1958

LOCATION: GROUNDHOG RIVER: SUMMER OF 1958

WILDERNESS NORTH OF TIMMINS AND SOUTH OF KAPUSKASING

PURPOSE: TO CHECK OUT ANOMALOUS SIGNALS PICKED UP BY A CANSO FLYING BOAT DRAGGING A MAGNETOMETER

TO DO SO AS SECRETLY AS POSSIBLE

alan skeoch

March 22, 2019

Three men I will never forget…Floyd, Bob and Walter. We were thrown together by accident in that summer of 1958.

Floyd Faulkner was our crew chief. Bob Hilkar was our instrument man. Walter Helstein, was our soul. I think of his sad ending often.

Me? AIan Skeoch, a 19 year old blank slate, just a few days out of high school.

“So you are a Boy Scout, let’s see how you handle a real wilderness. No badge

for this job, Alan.” “No, you are wrong, there is a badge…my Bushman’s Thong.” And they laughed.

Floyd Faulkner

Bob Hilkar

Walter Helstein

Alan Skeoch

DEAR DIARY….

July 2 – 5, 1958

And so the adventure begins. I reported to company HQ at 1950 O’Coinnor Drive with my bag packed for the summer. Never knew how long…did not know

where I was going…had no idea who I was going with…had no idea how we were to get there. Did not really know why I was hired in that summer of 1958.

“We needed a Boy Scout to baptize into the real world,” commented Floyd or Bob. One of them. They intended to make a man of me. And I think they did

that. The events of that summer are still crystal clear in my mind I was 19 back then I am 83 now..

Mom and dad were a little concerned as the whole plan seemed

sort of loosey goosey Who were these men that called themselves ‘geophysicists’?

Right from the get go there were problems. Our Land Rover had not arrived nor had the canoe which was to be strapped to the Rover’s roof. And the two way radio was

still being overhauled. If we needed a two way radio that meant we were heading into the wild unknown. No telephone booths.

“Go back home, Alan, gear not ready quite yet.” Fine, I thought, for I was already on the payroll.

Floyd Faulkner and Bob Hilker Both seemed nice but a little distant .

They were veteran bushmen. I was just a high school kid. First day we drove to Oshawa where the company had a fleet of Canso double engined aircraft.

Vintage World War II submarine hunters.

One of the Canso’s had already overflown our target dragging an airborne magnetometer. The mag readings indicated several anomalies worth detailed ground

mapping. We were that three man mapping team. “Keep your mouth shut about the job, others are interested.” said our big boss, Dr. Norman Paterson. He

made me feel like a military hit man being sent on a mission.

Dr. Paterson gave us a final briefing on July 3. “This is a rough job, you will be dropped by aircraft as close as we can get to the anomalies. Virgin forest.

No people, no trails, no transport except the canoe and your feet.” Dr. Paterson was a bit intimidating…long and lean…a serious scientist who had been

a student under Dr. Tuzo Wilson…the man who put the expression Plate Tectonics in the dictionary. I felt we were doing something important…something

that would change the world. I was part of the team… on the bottom rung of the geophysical ladder. “What is my role?”, was a question that I was afraid to ask. As things turned out I should have

known when Dr. Paterson mentioned a blazing axe. A blazing axe differs from a regular axe. It is smaller, lighter and is used to blaze trails through virgin forest.

the idea is simple…lop a chunk out of both sides of trees ensuring that the line of blazes makes sense…i.e. going somewhere. Why both sides of the trees

are hacked should be obvious…one way into the wilderness and to get back out follow the alternate blazes. That was to be my job. It was never fully explained.

As things turned out all the jobs were shared. This was to be a real learning experience. Could I handle the job? I thought so and was comforted by a line

from Mr. Fred Burford, our football coach at Humberside Collegiate Institute…”When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” That line was called upon

many times in the following two and a half months.

July 6, 1958

“Al, meet us at the corner of Bloor and Jane…bring what you need for three months…but all in one bag.” Mom and dad got a little worried. Who were these

strangers? They were not even coming to our house but asking Alan to meet them on a street corner. So dad came along. My dad is a tough customer so he

planned to check ‘these assholes out’ before allowing me to crawl into the Land Rover. Dad knew the difference between normal assholes and dangerous assholes.

Floyd, my crew chief, was gruff but solid. So dad helped stow my rucksack in the back of the Rover and waved me off for the summer. This was a rite of passage.

We headed north to Gravenhurst where we ate a huge dinner on the expense account. The Food was heartburn hell but was on the company tab. Then we carried

on northward to South Porcupine. Floyd and Bob knew each other so they gabbed away. At some point Floyd gave me a nickname that stuck like a turd on a boot.

“Fucking Al will do the blazing…ever blazed a trail Al?” Conversation ebbed and I got a little tired of straddling the gear shift. “Floyd, could you stop and let me crawl

in the back on top of the gear…that would be more comfortable.” “Fucking good idea.” I learned that Floyd used fucking as an adjective for just about everything including

me…as in Fucking Al with a grin. It was not a term of derision…sort of a term of endearment. Sort of. So I spent the rest of the long long journey folded like a jackknife on our tents and rucksacks.

I even slept a bit. I was a little scared. Wondering just what the hell I had gotten myself into. At North Bay we got a canoe and strapped it to our roof. Lots of shaking and rattling.

I was determined to make the best of it…something to remember.

July 7

In Schumacker we visited our contractor, McIntyre Mines, where the geologist handed over a large sheaf of aerial photographs that pinpointed the anomalies we were

to find and map. “You guys will be the first mining persons ever to explore the wilderness northwest of the Groundhog River.”. Was that true? Wow…real wilderness. We rented

a Beaver float plane from Austin Airways in South Porcupine for a flight on July 9 at 8 a.m. McIntyre Mines did not want us to use their plane lest other mining people

got wind of our project. Mining is super competitive. The cloak of secrecy made the job seem all that more important.

Floyd drove us to Timmins where he handed Blahey’s Food Market a grub list that was to last three weeks. After that our food supplies would be replenished by Blakey’s and

Austin Airways.. The word “grub” or to use a more familiar, ‘maggot’. We would se lots of them on this trip, maybe even eat a few by mistake.

July 8

Today we hired Walter Helstein to help with the line cutting. Walter seems a little too fat and a little too old for what we are about to face. I know that seems unkind. Sorry

to say that but he has a fatherly…even grandfatherly manner. He speaks of the Great Depression and the Dirty Thirties as events he has experienced only yesterday.

  Hard to say why he was hired. Then again I have no idea why I was hired. For the rest of the day

we lounged around South Porcupine…in the bright summer sunshine. Then in the evening we went to a small circus in Timmins.

July 9

In the morning We loaded the Beaver float plane with all our gear and our instruments. We had so much gear that we needed two trips as the Beaver could only

carry 1100 pounds. Walter Helstein and Bob Hilkar went with the first load. “Fucking Al and I will come later.” My seat for our flight was a crate of oranges some

of which got crushed since we had a rough landing an hour or so later on the Groundhog River. The river is tough for a float plane because it is so muddy that

obstructions cannot be seen. We bounced hard a couple of times throwing huge chevrons of water as we powered down. “Water’s high this time of

year, but water level will drop fast. Future landings will be difficult.”, said the pilot.

We parked our Land Rover beside the South Porcupine hotel for the summer. Entered the bush in early July, returned

on September 10. Naurally, The spare tire was gone as was any loose item after all this was Timmins, a tough mining

town. I guess we should have expected that.

Strapping our big four man canoe to the Beaver pontoon seemed a trifle dangerous to me but normal to Floyd and Bob…and the Austin

Airways pilot. Bob, Walter and the canoe would go first . A lopsided takeoff.

Floyd and I were wedged in among our gear and food supplies. Not much spare room. I wondered how the pilot would know

we had reached the 1100 pound limit. He had no scale. Just guessed.

we began Erecting two tents even before the Beaver took off on its return flight…. first our sleeping tent and next our cook tent and then Floyd looped a long rope over a high tree branch on which would hang our meat supply “because otherwise the fucking bears will get it.” We did not know that a bear was watching us. He gave us the once over and planned a visit.

The little ‘bite ums no see ups…sand flies…are really ferocious. I get the feeling that we will be fly bate this summer. Later in the evening Floyd and Bob showed me

how to use stereo scope on the aerial photographs. Suddenly a flat surface become three dimensional. And our trip took on a cloak and dagger character. We were

commandoes on a mission.

July 10

We cut trees today and lashed a dock together. Banks are very steep and we expect water level to drop significantly. Currently the river is

about 300 yards wide. Seems immense. We also erected our radio antennae. If anything goes wrong this will be the only way get help…if the radio actually works. Floyd and Bob took the canoe down river and were caught in a terrible storm…drenched. Then we had our first big camp supper using our most perishable food. As dusk settled I wrote a letter home. Do not know why… the letter

won’t get out for at least three weeks.

July 11

Rained all morning so survey start delayed until afternoon when we piled in the canoe…four men in a single canoe is a challenge. River current is super fast. Drove us at speed into a rock which

ripped the canoe open but not fatally so. Two of us bailed while the other two frantically paddled us back to camp. Patched the canoe with a piece of canvas. Then Floyd gave me a lesson

on setting a survey line. That was going to be my job.

And this, Al, is blazing axe…smaller, lighter than a regular axe…Don’t cut your fucking hand off with it…that float plane costs money, you know.”

Flies are voracious. Hard to say which is the worst. The little black flies that crawl in our ears or slip behind our belt bands and munch. Or the Moose flies land gently and tear a piece of skin if they have time. These moose flies are big yet able to make silent landings on exposed skin then chew holes.

July 12

Another day of heavy rain so we did what we could to improve our campsite. We have chosen a Rough spot really quite high above the river. Stupidly decided to test our Mae West life jackets in the river. That was like swimming

among ice cubes…noted that the Groundhog River flows north to James Bay. In other words this river was not like the Humber or Don or Etobicoke creek…sweet and warn, We then took the canoe, hooked on the outboard

engine, and motored down river for a spin. No sign of human habitation. Slight concern that our two way radio was not working. Who gives a damn? Good to be alive and young and healthy … watching a beautiful sunset.

Some of our camps and anomalies we tried to locate…last camp was Kapik Lake

July 13

Nice sunny day…motored five miles down the Groundhog River to check out our first anomaly. Walter Helstein and i set and cut line while Floyd and Bob followed with the EM…principally two great hoops of

tightly worn copper wire…looked like a hoop skirt without the underwear. Heavy. And a console with earphones to pick up the signals sent from one to the other. Coils had 100 foot separation each attached

to a heavy cable. Walt and I had

to mark these separations with pickets. As mentioned earlier, this job was for the young. Walter was about 60 or more years old and by five o’clock he was exhausted. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked Walter but

did not expect him to keep up.

When we got back to camp and made preparations for supper we found that others had been in camp. Blow flies had laid their eggs in the meat a few days earlier and the maggots were hatching. We cooked

the meat anyway…and ate what we could. Boiled maggots tasted okay if they were eaten unseen. Our radio is still not operating so any crisis will not be known to the outside world.

We cut 3,000 feet of trail for the E.M. unit today.

Bob and Walter with loaded canoe on Groundhog River

July 14

Hot and windy day.We motored back to the River anomaly. Walter and I blazed another trail for the E.M. unit…North East compass reading. Walter having a very tough time. Blazing sounds easy but that is

not the case. There is always dense brush that has to be cleared so the compass shot will be straight. Best to blaze trees that are on the compass line but that is not always possible. The line must be straight.

Big obstructions must be climbed over, waded through, or slashed and thrown to the side. Today we cut and marked 8,000 feet of line.

July 15

Today we checked out another anomaly whose location was confirmed by aerial photographs. Our base camp is located at the junction of a smaller creek or river where it joins the mighty Groundhog River.

We travelled by canoe westward along this tributary to get as close to the anomaly as possible. Not easy. The canoe bottomed out regularly as the creek was quite shallow. A giant bull moose startled us

as we came around a bend. Or did we startle him? We were more surprised I think because he just stood there for a few moments looking at us and then wandered leisurely out of the water and into

the forest. His antlers were so large that they spanned the creek.

Really tough day blazing trail into the anomaly and then cutting formal lines for the EM (Electro Magnetic) unit. Nothing worse than a cedar swamp with tag alder shrubs. So much slashing that the blisters on my hands are getting

blisters beneath blisters. To make matters worse we we’re unable to find the anomaly.

Our crew…living together for the duration of the job. Lunch break in the bush with pot of tea…see if you can find the billy can.

When we stop for lunch, there is a danger that few new people in the bush know. The danger is piles…”your ass gets pulled out…the sphincter muscle bulges…bloody painful” “So, Al, do

not sit on those lovely soft spongy piles of moss. Wet. Wet underwear can cause piles. Sit on a dry log or anything other that wet moss.” “You can also get piles from constipation so keep the greasy

food coming.” What about heartburn? “We have some tummy pills. Lots of things can go fucking wrong on these jobs, Al” Nice to be on a 2.5 month camping trip with know-alls that tell me after the fact.

Constipation and piles. Must avoid.

July 16

Tough day. We went back up the tributary then followed our previous trail and extended it in a vain search for the airborne anomaly. Half of my time was spent working with the E.M. transmitter

which was nice. Creek is getting more shallow each day. Canoe struck bottom often today whereas yesterday we hit bottom only a few times. We startled a family of hell diver ducks who submerged as

we got close then popped up some distance away. we blazed and traversed 18,000 feet of line criss crossing what should be the anomaly. The bush is incredibly dense with cedars and tag alders…and

swamps. Cutting through cedar swamps is like trying to cut rubber bands…the branches seem to be elastic and cause the axes to bounce back…must be careful. Much of the time we are standing in

shallow water. Boots tend to leak.

Radio is full of dire news suggesting chance of another world war since the United States marines have landed in Lebanon.

Gum Rubbers tend to leak which means wet socks which means boiled feet which mean white pock marked feet. Not nice

I could peel skin from my feet as they were pomogranates. (sp?)

July 17

Wildlife is sure abundant. Just today we startled moose, mink, ducks, hawk, partridge and lots of little red ground squirrels. These creatures were the only nice thing about our day. Hard cutting but

no luck finding the anomaly. The creek is so low now that we decided to give up the search for the anomaly. We did our best. And there were many more blips picked up by the airborne magnetometer

and only so much time to confirm whether the blips were real or just a mistake.- Finding these fucubg anomalies will be no easy task. Did I use the F word? Part of the learning curve.

I am bothered by Heartburn often these days likely due to too much fried food. Sickness has to just be accepted as getting to a doctor or even a drug store is impossible. I dread having a toothache.

The black flies seem to love crawling through my hair just to get a little blood with a bite of my flesh. Maybe I should shave…easier to crush the little devils with a clean face.

Of course escape from the flies is impossible. Seems they love tight places such as under my belt. That’s where most of my welts seem to be. Keep clothing as loose as possible.

We spent an hour or so burning maggots in our garbage pit…thousands of them infested our rotten rolls of bologna.

We changed the position of our radio antennae in an attempt to establish contact with Austin Airways. Radio silence.

Even though we blazed and surveyed 20,000 feet of line we still had no luck finding the anomaly.

July 18

We followed an old blazed trail westward from our camp re-blazing as we went. Mystery who blazed original trail, perhaps some mining sleuth or maybe a trapper. When the trail petered out we blazed a new trail

in North West direction for 6,000 feet. A heavy rainstorm struck around three catching us several miles from our Base Camp. Arrived back about 6 p.m. soaked to the skin. Depressing. Later I skinned a mink that

had been trapped and killed recently. For some strange reason the trapper who spent his winters here left all his traps set. Killed animals for no reason. Floyd suggested He may have died here last winter. “His

trappers shack must be somewhere nearby.” The forest west of us seems loaded with partridge…they show little fear as we approach.

Today we travelled 32,500 west from base camp to a beaver dam we spotted on the aerial photos. Right on target proving we can pin point the anomalies.

Trappers Cabin found on river bank. Very rough place with heads of small animals nailed to logs. Some skinning method I guess.

July 19

Ferocious Storm all night and morning prevented trail blazing so we stayed in base camp. It was my meal shift so I had a chance to make breakfast rather extravagant. French toast with thick slices of sowbelly bacon

and lots of maple syrup and coffee. Each of us has meal duty days in rotation. In the afternoon the sun came out…an opportunity to wash clothes and sun dry them on the tent ropes. We cut a lot more scrub brush

from around camp so we now have clear view up and down the river. Water level is dropping rapidly…down a foot since we arrived and going down each day in spite of the rain.

Walter Helstein sunbathing in the nude. He has the ability to ignore the blood seeking flies.

Any notion that our campsite was built with military precision should be wiped away by this shot. Clean dry socks are the most important

item of clothing but the task to keep them so is impossible. Wet socks help to boil our feet in wet boots. As mentioned earlier,Boiled feet are pock marked

and peeling. Anybody believing this job was a luxury rich man’s camp has to be daft. Many days were just constant agony.

July 20

Today we trekked one hell of a long way to reach Anomaly site Number 3 and the days ahead will be even longer. Walt and I cut lines

for the E.M. unit to traverse using 100 foot stations (see map for Sites 2 and 3). To reach the site we had to cross a big active beaver dam

about 200 feet wide and 8 feet high in places. Six feet thick.These beaver have been here for a long time.

At lunch we found the bones of a young moose killed by a bear or hunter…or perhaps a cougar if stories of their presence can be true. Maybe

it just died for the bones have been here for some time. Collected the teeth for what reason I do not know.

We returned to base camp very tired and went directly to bed.

Eureka! A successful day even if tough. We found the anomaly…high readings on the magnetometer and the E. M. unit just north of

the beaver dam.

Anomaly site #3: Eureka, we confirmed the airborne anomaly. Set up a grid pattern

as indicated above. Site #2 was less successful.

July 21

We retraced yesterdays’ trails then used compass to cut new trail North. Very slow progress due to the damn

cedar and alder swamps and their thick vegetation. I was point man using the compass and made a terrible mistake

having my heavy belt buckle too close to the compass. We had spent a couple of hours going in the wrong

direction…deflected. When we realized our error, Floyd and Bob made fun of my stupidity. Laughed at me.

So I threw a temper tantrum and began slashing the brush and heading nowhere really. Which made them

laugh all the more. Made me laugh too. Not my best day but i

guess I provided some entertainment. The compass error may not have been my fault for there were

strong indications of a body of magnetite below us. Floyd decided we should strike directly east through unblazed

bush towards the Groundhog River … far to the east. “Walter, you go back retracing our blazed trail to Base Camp

then get the canoe to meet us somewhere up river.” Well, things did not go well when sun got clouded over

and we got lost…strange how when lost in the bush we travel in circles. Eventually we reached the

Groundhog River around 8 p.m. as darkness was descending. Walter had been on patrol and found us thankfully.

Arrived at camp dead tired. Floyd and Bob told Walter about my temper tantrum.

As things turned out the errors may not have been my fault. The anomaly upon which we stood was likely

a whopping big magnetite find, confirmed by the aerial photo. Magnetite is strong enough to deflect

a compase…even confuse a compass giving one false reading in one spot and another a few feet away.

Were we standing on a future copper mine? If we were it was going to be one hell of a place for mine

families to live. Swamp…swamp…swamp. I read somewhere that certain plants like magnetite. Couldn’t

be true.

Today we traversed 39,500 feet finishing the beaver dam anomaly. Distance is a guess though due to being

lost for hours. Tomorrow Floyd decided to reconnoitre the territory east of the Groundhog River.

July 22

Today Floyd decreed we would all have a day of rest. Wonderful. To top things off a moose appeared

close to our camp at the rivers edge. I stalked him with the canoe in order to get within camera range.

Then towards evening another moose appeared. Floyd and I chased him by canoe along the river bank

until he found a gap to scramble up and get away. Moose around here seem interested in us as they move

away slowly if we approach. One moose even seemed to like music for he stuck his head out of the

brush behind our camp when we had cranked up the music as loud as possible. The moose seem almost

tame. A shame really for they are easy game for hunters.

Walter has become valuable in a totally unpredictable way. He is our berry tester. Lots of wild plants

are bearing berries but we have been cautious about eating them lest they are poison. Walter has no

such caution. He eats any berry he can find…well not any berry but most berries. He even has

names for them. Walter is colour blind so all berries look the same to him. We even named one

berry a ‘Waltberry’ as we had no idea the true name. If Walt could eat it, then it cannot be poison.

END OF PART TWO…PART THREE WILL BE EPISODE 552

(sorry if a little long…will make other episodes more bite sized.)

alan

March 14, 2022
EPISODE 550 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE…HATED AND LOVED IT AT SAME TIME: GROUNDHOG RIVER WILDERNESS 1958

EPISODE 550 WORST JOB I EVER HAD IN MY LIFE…HATED AND LOVED IT AT SAME TIME: GROUNDHOG RIVER WILDERNESS 1958

alan skeoch

March 13, 2022

WHY IN TARNATION WOULD ANYONE WANT TO READ ABOUT MY TOUGHEST JOB?

Seems a little self-obsessed. I admit that. And I know some of you do not read any of the

printed part of these Episodes. Maybe glance at the pictures. Maybe just say “:God, not

another email from him! “HIM?” Well, I did an edit…cut the list of names but got objections.

So here is an unusual story sent in parts. Why should you be interested? Let me try a simple

answer. The job I am about to present was so rough that few of you would ever have had the chance to

venture into the Canadian boreal forest wilderness for two months cut off from most

human contact except for rare three visits by a float plane from Austin Airways bringing

food or coming on an emergency flight to take two badly injured out to hospital where one, Walter ,

spent months saving his arm from amputation. This was a tough job. Not pretty.

Why should you be interested? Put yourself in my shoes. Would you get in

a Land Rover with two men you had never met to spend months

alone with them in a trackless wilderness. Would you let your son take

that risk?

See that gap in the boxes and gear? That was my seat as we took off from South Porcupine. July 6, 1958.

Why should you be interested? Would you grab at the chance to spend the summer

of 1958 doing real exploration … searching for a source of magnetism found by

an airborne magnetometer flying a grid over a seemingly endless Canadian wilderness.

Would you be captivated by the task of cutting trails with a blazing axe where no one

had ever gone before. Do you know how dangerous a blazing axe can be?

Why should you be interested? Could you stand to be a walking feast for thousands

of tiny blood sucking bastardly bush flies? Deer flies with chevron wings that could land

gently and then take a good chunk of your flesh. Moose flies that were larger and got a

bit more flesh and blood. Mosquitoes that were tanker trucks for human blood. Black flies

that loved to chew flesh in hidden places…around your belt, in your ears, on your

neck. Ground wasps that gave no warning until you stepped on their nesting hole.

Protection? Would you rub yourself with foul smelling guck to ward off these attacks?

Better to just stop washing. Let dirt and grime fill your pores and keep the flies confused.

Why should you be interested? Would you like to sleep with three other men

on a single huge bed made from spruce or cedar branches? Would you be able

to get along with strangers for months of close contact. At one

point I asked Floyd why bush crews did not have guns. We were visited by

black bears often. “Simple, if we had a gun we might shoot each other.”

Now that made sense to me. Especially when I threw two tantrums on the job.

This is Walter Helstein. A man too old for the job really but necessity forced

him to do so. A good man who got badly hurt when a tag alder spike

pierced his hand. We could not help him. A rescue plane could not land.

Walter was over 60 years old…tough man….toughened by the Great Depression.

Why should you be interested? Have you ever heard a friend whimper in

pain as infection took hold of his body which had been spiked by a tag

alder spear.. Clear through his hand. And there was nothing you could do to help because the weather

was so bad that a plane could not land on the little wilderness lake where

you were camped. Have you heard those cries?

Why should you be interested? Have you ever eaten wormy food? Not little

worms. Blow fly maggots regularly got into our slab of sowbelly. Each morning

we would slice off a chunk due to blow fly eggs and/or maggots just to get to

the good meat. Have you ever had to make do with a steadily diminishing

food supply until all that is left is raw oat meal? Have you ever eaten slabs

of cold porridge slathered with peanut butter…lunch made from left overs

at breakfast. Have you ever made tea from Labrador leaves? Have you ever

sipped scotch whisky from a coffee cup and considered it a luxury? Have you ever

eaten wild berries from plants you have never seen before? Have you ever

eaten swamp apples…orange in colour the size of big rasberries. Have you ever

been sick in a place where there is no medical aid?

Why should you be interested? Have you ever worn gum rubbers with so many holes

that your socks became sodden lumps on your pock marked feet? Feet? Pock marked?

Wet socks heated up and boiled your feet. Sometimes flesh could be peeled off. The most

important job returning to camp at night was to try and dry your socks for the next day.

Have you ever had to patch your clothes with slabs of medical tape just to cover the holes

caused by constant rubbing against tangles of tag alder or spruce boughs.?

See those gum rubbers? They had holes that let water in…wet socks…boiled

feet became pock marked. So much so that flesh could be peeled.

Why should you be interested? Have you ever turned to Lonely Hearts Club letters

for entertainment and come to the conclusion there are people in this world whose

lives are far worse than yours. How could girls become so desperate that they would

offer to move in with you sight unseen? How could their hell on earth be worse than

your hell on earth? Why were these lonely hearts club letters be funny on first reading

and then be so sad.

Why should you be interested? Perhaps just to test yourself. Just to see if you

could triumph over adversity. To show you can overcome fear. Trekking alone through

the forest following tiny blazes on trees. To lose the blazes is to become lost, perhaps

hopelessly so. And while slogging alone you begin to sense you are being tracked

by some creature You stop suddenly and listen. No sound. The imagery carnivore

following you has stopped as well. You reach the Groundhog River base camp

and switch on the two way emergency radio to hear Evangelist Billy Graham saving

souls and look across he river to see a lumbering bull moose listening as well.

Why should you be interested? Have you ever paddled beside a cow moose and her calf so close you can touch

them. Have you ever heard a cow moose telling her calf in sonorous voice that he or

she should beware of foul smelling human prospectors?

Why should you be interested? Have you ever noticed that the leaves of springtime turn to the golden leaves

of September? Have you ever lived among those leaves, those spruce boughs, those deadly tag alder

slashed spikes. Have you ever had a black bear beside you both looking AT the moon at the same time.

Have you ever been that close to nature.

Have you ever made a four man bed out of spruce and cedar boughs and then

had the thing collapse when all four bedded down?

Why should you be interested? Have you ever felt real triumph? Have you ever tested

yourself to see how much adversity you can take? Have you ever been 19years old

on the edge of adulthood and discovered you are OK?

THIS misty photo is Floyd Faulkner. He started as a cage man in Kirkland Lake. A friend

was also a cage man when the cable failed. “Had to scrape him off the floor with a shovel!”

Floyd preferred to work aboveground after that. He was good at nicknames for people…had one for me..

Why should you be interested? Have you ever been flattered with the new

nickname ‘Fucking Al’. Have you ever realized that nicknames might be

compliments in reverse.

Why should you be interested? Have you ever had a stewardess on an Air Canada

VisCount offer you a Peek Frean shortbread cookie and a glass of lemonade? Have

you ever had the feeling you are special and then nibbled and nursed the luxury

as the airplane lifted over Timmins and South Porcupine en route to Toronto.

Why should you be interested? Have you ever come home from such a summer advenuture

to find your friends Russ Vanstone, Jim Romaniuk, Big Red Stevenson, your brother Eric and

your parents standing there to greet you. Mom with a smile of relief. Dad, not saying much because

he is en route to the racetrack. Proud though…son had survived. Your brother is holding a hand painted sign

saying “Go Back, Al.” Have you ever had your friends, Russ and Jim, greet you at Pearson Airport

because they want those lonely hearts club letters?

Why should you be interested? Should I tell my friends that I have a new nickname?

FUCKING AL ! Would they understand? How could I know that the next years of my life in

the summers I would be living rough and loving it?I Would love the wilderness so much

that, in the future, take my wife Marjorie along with me?

THIS Journal was written in the summer of 1958 then rewritten in 2018

and now submitted in several Episodes.

This was the toughest job I ever faced. Makes me proud to say that I only threw

two temper tantrum on the whole job. See if you can find them.

The Episodes will start shortly. Why should you be interested?

GROUNDHOG RIVER EPISODES ARE COMING NEXT

alan skeoch

March 14, 2022

March 14, 2022