So, after waiting a day or two in Deadhorse, Chris and I headed out to Lonely on December 2, 2011. Chris had flown out with Bob the day before to drop gear at Teshekpuk. They also flew over the route that we would be snow machining (Lonely to Teshekpuk).
Chris (yelling to Heidi over the noise of the generator as we were madly flinging gear around the hangar): “Just to warn you, it’s a little eerie. Flying, that is.”
Heidi: “What do you mean?”
Chris: “Well, it’s kind of like being inside a dimly-lit ping-pong ball.”
Heidi: “Surrounded by white…..sounds good. Can you see anything – textures in the snow or tundra?”
Chris: “Nope. Just white. Until you get to Lonely. Then you see a big radardome and a giant hangar.”
So off we flew. An hour later (Heidi was a Heidsicle), we landed at Lonely. Bob, not wanting the plane to sit for long at -30, quickly threw the engine cover on and we tossed stuff out of the plane. Bob took off.
And there we were. Lonely is an odd, odd place. It was quite pretty right when we landed. The sky was pink (as light as it ever got), and we could actually see a horizon of sorts. Lonely is an abandoned DEW line site and has supposedly been ‘remediated.’ I’m going to go ahead and call it random. In one building, which we called ‘disgusto building,’ there would be a wall ripped out, insulation down, light tubes taken out, and then a case of unopened Comet, a nightstand, and a closet with hangers in it. It was pretty eerie. The place was silent with the exception of a persistent and very rhythmic, “Clang……clang…….clang..” It sounded like an empty flagpole.
Chris: “Phew. This is like being in a creepy sci-fi movie.”
Heidi: [Surveying the scene] “What this adventure needs is a little more cowbell!”
Our first task was to find Chris’ colleague’s CONEX, unpack it, and extract the snow machine. This turned out to be a little more time-consuming than anticipated (as is everything at –stupid degrees Celsius), and started with the lock being frozen solid.
Heidi: “Too bad we don’t have a propane torch. Not that it would work at –30.”
Chris: “We’ll have to light the MSR stove.”
Turns out, matches don’t like -30, and white gas doesn’t like -30. Heidsters also do not like -30, but we knew this in advance and planned for it.
Several minutes later, the lock was thawed out.
Heidi: “Let’s take stock.”
Chris: “I am going to hold up this ridiculously heavy door and frame. You grab that 4x4 and wedge it underneath bit by bit as I lift the frame higher.”
Heidi: “Good plan. Wait. What if we get crushed?”
We were not crushed, but we could have been by the leaning tower of field gear Pisa that threatened to avalanche out as soon as we had the front open. After about an hour of meticulously removing a jumbled jigsaw puzzle of action packers from the CONEX, we could see the snow machine, and lift it out. AND it started on the second pull. Clearly, higher beings were on our side.
Until, of course, the snow machine refused to move anywhere. Turns out, the belt does not engage when the machine is that cold. Apparently higher beings enjoy amusement. We spent 20 minutes trying to start the machine for the second time. By the time it was running and moving and the sleds were hitched together, it was getting dark. We decided that it would be better to stay at Lonely than to snow machine in the dark to the cabin.
Ah, fools we be.
Chris recounted the experience to Mike via satellite phone later in the week.
Chris: “Yeah, we have a plan that will avoid the need to stay at Lonely another night.
Yeah……that was TERRIBLE!”
The good parts were: 1) zucchini casserole; and, 2) hand and foot warmers. That was all.
Waking up dark-circled and chilly on the morrow, we found that our sleeping bag torsos were covered in ice from breathing inside the bags (yes, we know, winter camping instructors). At this point, Heidi allowed that yes, wearing part of a dead seal and a dead otter on her head was indeed warmer than not. Chris was pondering at this point if it would have been: a) more comfortable; or b) less comfortable, if we had lit a bunch of pallets on fire in the hangar and attempted to sleep there.
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