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Forty some years ago, near Rampart, on the Yukon River while monitoring the Upper Yukon Commercial Salmon Fishery, my coworker and good friend Fred and I saw a red canoe drifting in the current. As we drove our jet boat closer, we could not see anyone in the boat. Thinking that someone had lost their canoe or worse that they had dumped, we were happy to see a man our age laying back in the stern playing his guitar. In the bow looking bored, was a big white husky sled dog. Seeing what local native people call "Floaters" was not unusual in our work, these floater start at Whitehorse and most, but not all give it up in the middle stretch of the Yukon. They sell their canoes cheap, then fly out of the villages there with no road access. We were heading back to Fairbanks that day, so we gave him our remaining foods and cold beverages. When asked where he had started from he asked "Do you mean this morning or the start of the trip?" We of course wanted to know both, but really wanted to know the latter. When he said " New Orleans", we were shocked to hear that he had been on the trail for three years he was planing on paddling to the ocean, then following the coast to Nome Alaska. In November I read or saw on the news, that he had walked into Nome after winters ice in Norton Sound had ended canoeing for the year.
I was happy last Sunday, to find this story in the Outdoors Section of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. I was even more interested in the fact that Jerry Pushcar had after Forty some years finally written a book about his trip, WATERS BENEATH MY FEET. The fly in my ointment is that my usual sources of books do not carry it, the few places I found on the inter-web are out of stock. I of course will keep looking, maybe even get one of my former co-workers in Nome to get one directly from him.
I was happy last Sunday, to find this story in the Outdoors Section of the Minneapolis Star Tribune. I was even more interested in the fact that Jerry Pushcar had after Forty some years finally written a book about his trip, WATERS BENEATH MY FEET. The fly in my ointment is that my usual sources of books do not carry it, the few places I found on the inter-web are out of stock. I of course will keep looking, maybe even get one of my former co-workers in Nome to get one directly from him.