Trafford Publishing: A Promise Fulfilled

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A Promise Fulfilled

by Rose Toole

390 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-2634; ISBN 1-4120-2055-7; US$40.00, C$49.53, EUR34.50, £24.00

A city girl, transplanted to a Yukon trapline a hundred miles from the nearest neighbour, falls in love with the wilderness lifestyle.

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About the Book About the Author Excerpt Catalogue Information

About the Book

Rose had been quite content with her life as a city girl living in Edmonton, Alberta until the summer of 1948. Then it abruptly changed! Her brother Louis, a member of the RCAF stationed at Snag, Yukon, arrived home on leave and brought along his buddy, Gordon.

After meeting Gordon, her life changed forever. They found they greatly enjoyed being together and, after a whirlwind courtship, were married.

Shortly afterwards Gordon, employed by the Canadian Meteorological Service, was transferred to Watson Lake, Yukon. Rose agreed to come north for a two year period. She stayed a little longer!

They built their log home on the shore of Watson Lake and still live there. Over the years Rose, besides raising their family of six children, has assisted Gordon in a number of ventures -- Big Game Outfitting, a Fly-in-Fishing Camp, clearing land for their hay farm and others. Life was always a challenge and enjoyable.

Gordon also had a trapline in the mountains a hundred miles north of Watson Lake. Rose, realizing how much he enjoyed being on the trapline, promised that once the children had all left home, she would spend a month out there with him to find out why he enjoyed being there so much. The month turned to twelve winters on the trapline. She too, fell in love with life in the wilderness and kept a diary of her experiences.

This book is composed of the diary she kept during her first four years on the trapline.

About the Author

The story of a girl from the city keeping her promise to fly out to her husband's trapline in the Yukon wilderness, attempting to discover why he totally enjoys the lifestye it offers.

This book is composed of the diary she kept over the following four years, recording her feelings, the challenges she faced and the change in her attitude.

Excerpt

1985

- MY FIRST YEAR AT THE TRAPLINE -

Saturday - September 28th

I can't believe it, the long awaited day has finally arrived and I'm actually here, watching as the Yukon slips by beneath the wings of the Otter floatplane flying my husband Gordon and myself, to a small remote lake in the mountains - a hundred miles north of our home in Watson Lake, and, a hundred miles from the nearest neighbor.

After months of nail-biting and days of hectic packing, trying to make certain we'd have all the supplies we'd need for the next four months, we're on our way and surprisingly, I'm enjoying the flight. With the cool mid-September temperature, the air is smooth - not a trace of turbulence. With mountains clothed in their vivid, multi-hued fall attire, the ever-changing view is spectacular as mountains then valleys with their winding streams, interspersed with occasional beaver ponds, sweep by beneath us.

We're headed for Jamie Lake and the small log cabin nestled on the ridge above its eastern shore that will be our home for the next four months. Since it's my first venture into the wilderness for a lengthy stay and despite reassurances from my husband, I've spent many sleepless nights worrying whether I'll adapt to life in the wilds, giving up all the accustomed comforts of our home in town. It's a beautiful, sunny day, a smooth ride thank goodness, or I'd probably have tried to get off and walked. It's hard to believe an hour has passed and just ahead in the Coal River valley, Jamie Lake appears. After circling the lake to check wind direction and most importantly, make certain the cabin hasn't been demolished by bears, the pilot makes a smooth landing. A few minutes' later finds us tied up to the makeshift dock, busy unloading the supplies and gear we'll need for the coming months.

All too soon, after bidding the pilot, Derek Drinnan, goodbye, we watch as the plane takes off. Shortly, the only sound heard is the faint throb of the engine receding in the distance - then absolute silence. Gordon and I are alone except for our dog "Murky". Completely on our own! No neighbors - no sound of vehicles - just total silence. How traumatic for a city bred girl!! Now I understand the meaning of the saying - "Silence is Deafening"

Monday - Nov. 7th -11C Fog again this morning - solid.

We had a very interesting, maddening, you name it - kind of day. It ended up well despite all our problems. We should have stayed in bed!!

After breakfast, we decided to go down the trail to the Coal River to check the few traps we had set there. Since it's a very rough trail, Gordon decided we'd hitch the two dogs to the toboggan rather than take the skidoo. We'd walk, without snowshoes, since the dogs and toboggan would pack the trail ahead of us. It normally takes only about an hour and a half to reach the river since it's only about six miles away. Gordon placed the bait, extra traps and my vest in the box that's strapped on the toboggan. I didn't dress as warmly as I do when we're using the skidoo, just a light wool shirt and jeans, etc. Walking keeps me warm so I wouldn't need heavy clothes. Anyway, this would be the first time the two dogs were hitched together. We sort of expected they might try a bit of chewing on each other but, once in harness, behaved themselves. Gordon started leading the way down the trail with the dogs following behind him but soon they were trying to get around and ahead of him. Guess they though the Master usually rides the toboggan or runs along behind it. Not walk in front!! I was trotting along behind everyone. To my thinking, they were all nearly running because I couldn't keep up. Minutes later we got to the creek that has our little, narrow bridge across it and Gordon says "Take the rope that's tied to the back of the toboggan so you can help guide it across the bridge". Seconds later, with Gordon leading, the dogs were across the bridge - but - the toboggan slipped a little sideways and tipped over into the creek. Everything was dumped out. Gordon ran back and pulled the toboggan out, still hitched to the dogs while I was busy retrieving my vest and the traps from the creek. The next thing we knew, when Gordon came back to help me, the dogs took off at a fast trot up the hill, following the trail we'd made with the skidoo a couple of days earlier. We grabbed the traps, bait, etc. we'd retrieved from the creek and started after them, thinking they'd stop shortly and also hoping, when they came to the junction with Lake Run, they'd take the River Run. When we reached the junction where the trail divides - of course, they'd headed up Lake Run. Anyway, we figured they were getting further ahead all the time and the only thing to do was get the skidoo and go after them. Gordon trotted back for the skidoo while I kept on following the dogs, hoping they'd get tangled up or seeing a marten up a tree, stop and start barking.

No such Luck!! I must have walked over a mile before Gordon caught up to me. Also, shortly before he reached me, one of the skis on the skidoo had hit a small root in the trail. Just hard enough to throw the nose of the skidoo sideways but enough to allow the bumper to ram into a big spruce. The bumper now has quite a bend in it but fortunately, no other damage was done. The funny thing is that where it happened was in an open area with only a few trees. The trail goes between two of those trees and naturally that's where the root was. Oh well!! I got on the skimmer and we took off at quite a fast pace down our first ridge then across the meadow to the second ridge. No dogs yet but we did notice that we had marten in two of our traps. We'll pick them up on the way back. Then it was down the second ridge and across another meadow and on to our Twin Lakes Run. Another marten but no dogs. We kept hoping they'd stop. A bit further on, where the trail climbed into the hills, we started running into fog. When we reached the top, it was very foggy. Along the top, there are also a lot of willows, buckbrush, etc. where we thought the dogs would stop or get hung up, for sure. But, No Way!! They'd kept right on going.

A short while later we reached the area that we'd explored with snowshoes on Saturday. The dogs were still heading onwards. They were now even beyond the furthest point we'd explored. The game trail they were following headed through a swampy, hummocky section, real rough and so, a few minutes later, Gordon got the skidoo hung up on a root. He got off and wrestled with the skidoo, trying to free it but with no luck until he decided to really "put the gas" to it. It worked. With motor roaring, the skidoo started moving up and out of the root-bound hole it was in. But about then, one of Gordon's feet got too close to the moving track and rollers. The moving track grabbed his boot with his foot still in it. He was stuck tight!! Said he didn't think he'd hurt his toes. He shut the machine off. I undid the boot laces and a few minutes later, after considerable twisting and turning, he managed to get his foot out of his boot but - his socks and boot still remained wrapped around the roller. He started the machine, gently pressed on the throttle, the track and rollers turned and his boot was free. Sure was lucky!! Could have broken his ankle so easily.

Still no dogs!! We rested for a few minutes then decided to walk ahead through the rough section to see whether we should take the skidoo any further. We only went a short ways, came around a bend and believe it or not, about a hundred yards ahead were the dogs - lying down on the trail. They'd finally got stuck. The toboggan was jammed between two hummocks. We left the dogs where they were, walked back to the skidoo and wrestled with the machine, trying to get it turned around in the very rough area. Just finished getting it turned, looked up, and there were the dogs coming towards us. They couldn't go forward but were able to turn and come back. Don't know who was happier, the dogs to see us or us seeing them. They had to have traveled a good five miles or more, most of it on the run or a fast trot. They're trained to follow a trail and thought they were doing what they were trained to do. They were so tired. I'm sure they'd run all the way to where we caught up to them.

We gave the dogs a few minutes more to rest, then started for home. We stopped just a short ways back to set a trap and then didn't stop again until we reached the traps that held marten. Just as we finished resetting the traps, the dogs showed up. We continued on, collecting the other two marten and resetting the traps. Only had to wait a couple of minutes there before the two dogs again trotted up with the toboggan. Tongues were hanging out quite a ways so we gave them a few minutes to rest before continuing onwards. The dogs were pretty warm, trying to keep up with the skidoo, but not me. By the time we reached home I was so cold and wet. I'd been splashed this morning when the toboggan went into the creek and also when I was fishing out traps. Riding behind the skidoo in the skimmer is chilly but with damp clothes, it was just plain cold!! It felt so good being back in our warm cabin. After changing to dry clothes I made a hot lunch for us. Hot soup and tea were really appreciated!!

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