book Alaska subsistance Miles from Nenana Alaska true story survival diary filled with true adventure pictures
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Still Wild
Book three by Miles. You should have read book 1 and book 2
Still Wild is 420 pages and is the continuing story from my diaries of an Alaska Subsistence lifestyle. There are many levels all these books are written on and was written first, to be a fast pace exciting adventure story. In the style of Hemmingway, of about someone like Indiana Jones. Only, not quite living up to all that fictional stuff…. Resulting in a true account of 'having a dream' and going for it. A universal story of struggle hope perseverance and arriving at where I hoped to be . Maybe having it not be as it was cracked up to be when I dreamed of this life as a child. Still happy and glad I made the choices I did.
I'm living on my houseboat, trapping from it in the winter, but now acquiring homesteads. I'm cutting 200 miles of trapline trial by hand in an area the size of the state of Rhode island with no roads and maybe 5 people. I get married have a son. Loose them. I become a murder suspect after my home is burned down by a neighbor. There are trapline homestead wars. Personality conflicts. Social issues like what do you do when there is no 911 to call? I live a life with no ID, no credit, no drivers license, no electricity, subsistence off the land. Sled dogs and boat are my only transportation. What is that life like? Many dream about it, and this is one reality from someone who is doing it. Is it even legal? There are bear encounters, 50 below days on the trapline described, and basically a whole different planet then the one called 'civilization'. I sometimes think this might well fit in with science fiction, out of Star Trec and life in another galaxy.
I like to think the series is informative. The Native issues are viewed, land rights, gun rights, conservation issues get seen; I hope from a different perspective. From the viewpoint of someone whose life depends on the land. Questions get addressed as to what is freedom anyhow? What is survival all about? What is it we really need to be happy, or to be successful?
All this I try to tell in an exciting fast pace, that reads like fiction. Not a biography, because many events have the dates changed to suit the pace of the story and many conversations are recorded as I recall or that suit how this 'character' would respond. There are lots of pictures like the other two books.
I do suggest reading the first two books because to me all the books are really one long book divided up and follow chronologically through the years, as we view me growing up,- mature,- change, and that is part of the story I wish to tell. Eventually I move back to civilization. Why did I go out in the first place to live such hardship, and after succeeding, why did I come back? The question is at the core of what it means to be a human being.
Excerpts from the book below
I'm living on my houseboat, trapping from it in the winter, but now acquiring homesteads. I'm cutting 200 miles of trapline trial by hand in an area the size of the state of Rhode island with no roads and maybe 5 people. I get married have a son. Loose them. I become a murder suspect after my home is burned down by a neighbor. There are trapline homestead wars. Personality conflicts. Social issues like what do you do when there is no 911 to call? I live a life with no ID, no credit, no drivers license, no electricity, subsistence off the land. Sled dogs and boat are my only transportation. What is that life like? Many dream about it, and this is one reality from someone who is doing it. Is it even legal? There are bear encounters, 50 below days on the trapline described, and basically a whole different planet then the one called 'civilization'. I sometimes think this might well fit in with science fiction, out of Star Trec and life in another galaxy.
I like to think the series is informative. The Native issues are viewed, land rights, gun rights, conservation issues get seen; I hope from a different perspective. From the viewpoint of someone whose life depends on the land. Questions get addressed as to what is freedom anyhow? What is survival all about? What is it we really need to be happy, or to be successful?
All this I try to tell in an exciting fast pace, that reads like fiction. Not a biography, because many events have the dates changed to suit the pace of the story and many conversations are recorded as I recall or that suit how this 'character' would respond. There are lots of pictures like the other two books.
I do suggest reading the first two books because to me all the books are really one long book divided up and follow chronologically through the years, as we view me growing up,- mature,- change, and that is part of the story I wish to tell. Eventually I move back to civilization. Why did I go out in the first place to live such hardship, and after succeeding, why did I come back? The question is at the core of what it means to be a human being.
Excerpts from the book below
The sled dogs have made runs of up to ten miles, and been run a total of 50 miles this season. Usually they have run 30 miles, and have several hundred miles on them when I try for a town trip of 40 miles, usually a month from this date. I tell Sally:
"We can make it, and will not die, but it will be hard." She wants to go for it. There is three inches of snow, and the lakes are sort of frozen. It's the first week of October. The fall leaf colors have faded to uniform browns, and only a few leaves remain on trees. We will have the Kantrishan River to cross, then ten miles of swamp flats till we get to rolling hills. In some ways the hills will be easier, certainly safer, but there are always fallen trees to cut out of the way. Uphill stretches are hard on the sled dogs.
"We can make it, and will not die, but it will be hard." She wants to go for it. There is three inches of snow, and the lakes are sort of frozen. It's the first week of October. The fall leaf colors have faded to uniform browns, and only a few leaves remain on trees. We will have the Kantrishan River to cross, then ten miles of swamp flats till we get to rolling hills. In some ways the hills will be easier, certainly safer, but there are always fallen trees to cut out of the way. Uphill stretches are hard on the sled dogs.
"So Miles, are we ready to go or what! Are you day dreaming again?!" I smile. I guess I don't come across to her like I am the dependable type. What's this 'we' stuff woman? Rest assured I am ready and will make it. It's you I worry about. But I say nothing about that. Probably she will not die. The trip however might have more in common with ' Donnor Pass' then 'Lassie.'
We take off like a bullet from a rifle. Sally seems pleased. But like that bullet, when we hit roughness there will be a collapse, a mushroom, a folding up, a slowing way down. Even a stop. Starting slow, like a steam roller, would be better. I watch the dogs and see the older ones will make it, and are already trying to slow the pace. The pups are young and resilient. But, after this trip they will not be pups anymore.
"Easy!" I yell. Spike, my dependable rock solid leader hears me and does his best to slow up the team. Thin ice ahead. We need to negotiate this, not go full steam ahead. "Thin ice," I whisper to the dogs. I doubt the dogs know what this means, but I say it every time, the same way, same tone, so there is at least a chance some of the dogs connect the dots from one experience when I said that, to the next time I said the same thing. Or, I hope they understand my tone, if not the words. Or, simply pay attention more because I'm talking, and don't talk without a reason. There is sometimes an uncanny communication going on, however it happens. "You might try the right Spike, but you are closer, it's up to you." Spike looks to the right first, as I suggest, then left, and chooses to go straight. Our very life is probably not in his paws. That would be an exaggeration. But we could go through the ice, get wet, get delayed, have a miserable time, if Spike screws this up. I'd have to stop, build a fire, sort things out, and it could cost us a day. We'd be wet, and a day without food. Been there. Done that.
"Easy!" I yell. Spike, my dependable rock solid leader hears me and does his best to slow up the team. Thin ice ahead. We need to negotiate this, not go full steam ahead. "Thin ice," I whisper to the dogs. I doubt the dogs know what this means, but I say it every time, the same way, same tone, so there is at least a chance some of the dogs connect the dots from one experience when I said that, to the next time I said the same thing. Or, I hope they understand my tone, if not the words. Or, simply pay attention more because I'm talking, and don't talk without a reason. There is sometimes an uncanny communication going on, however it happens. "You might try the right Spike, but you are closer, it's up to you." Spike looks to the right first, as I suggest, then left, and chooses to go straight. Our very life is probably not in his paws. That would be an exaggeration. But we could go through the ice, get wet, get delayed, have a miserable time, if Spike screws this up. I'd have to stop, build a fire, sort things out, and it could cost us a day. We'd be wet, and a day without food. Been there. Done that.
Within an hour we are going slow, very slow. The dogs are wore out. Within another hour the dogs will not, cannot pull Sally in the sled. She now has to get out and walk with me. I'm unsure how far she can walk. But if we walk for an hour or so, the dogs might get energy back. Or, we can decide to make camp. Fifteen more miles to go. Then ten more miles to go … but we have spent two hours going five miles. But we drop off of ten mile hills into the flats. In the distance we can see Nenana hill, and lights on the antenna on the hill. Our first sign of civilization in several months.
Over the years I have heard of a few trappers who got killed by rivals who took over the trapline. It's considered 'dangerous' to seriously mess with a trapper. That's why it's not done very often. That's why I am concerned this guy seems willing to take it to the limit. It's already upsetting he has 'stolen' my canoe to stake land across from me. That takes a lot of gall. His reply on the subject was a happy:
"Well we both run dogs and trap! We have a lot in common and will get along great!" It's hard to put a bullet into such a happy face. Sigh. Get along, according to who? To whose benefit? He wants to share, learn from me, profit from my hard work. Offering what in return? He has nothing I want. I want peace, quiet, no neighbors. That's why we all come 100 miles into the wild right? If I wanted a neighbor I'd stay in town, right? So, what's his angle? I feel like an old timer who expects respect. Grandfathered in. He can have sloppy seconds. I was here first. He needs to pay his dues. I said :
"Look, I can't stop you from trapping. There is plenty of country available for both of us if you take the other side of the river." He says :
"There's no trails over there!" Well da!
"Well we both run dogs and trap! We have a lot in common and will get along great!" It's hard to put a bullet into such a happy face. Sigh. Get along, according to who? To whose benefit? He wants to share, learn from me, profit from my hard work. Offering what in return? He has nothing I want. I want peace, quiet, no neighbors. That's why we all come 100 miles into the wild right? If I wanted a neighbor I'd stay in town, right? So, what's his angle? I feel like an old timer who expects respect. Grandfathered in. He can have sloppy seconds. I was here first. He needs to pay his dues. I said :
"Look, I can't stop you from trapping. There is plenty of country available for both of us if you take the other side of the river." He says :
"There's no trails over there!" Well da!
"The law says I can run your trail, it's legal. There's nothing you can do about it." My last reply was:
"I'm sorry you feel that way." That was last year, and I have been pondering what to do. Not the sort of thing to bring Sally in on. It's a wilderness issue. I'm expecting him to be back. I forget his name, he told me, but I forget. It's not important. I don't remember the walking dead. Yet pause. Sigh. Yea, he reminds us to much of how it was when we got started. He's a greenhorn who just doesn't get it. When we arrived into the country, Indians took our supplies and left us to die. There was the big rescue that made national headlines.
Yes, I recall. I am only now understanding a little about my role in the responsibility of my part in 'the problem' from the perspective of the Indians. The country seemed so vast to me. It was beyond my comprehension it could be crowded. Beyond belief anyone had been here in the past 20 years.
"I'm sorry you feel that way." That was last year, and I have been pondering what to do. Not the sort of thing to bring Sally in on. It's a wilderness issue. I'm expecting him to be back. I forget his name, he told me, but I forget. It's not important. I don't remember the walking dead. Yet pause. Sigh. Yea, he reminds us to much of how it was when we got started. He's a greenhorn who just doesn't get it. When we arrived into the country, Indians took our supplies and left us to die. There was the big rescue that made national headlines.
Yes, I recall. I am only now understanding a little about my role in the responsibility of my part in 'the problem' from the perspective of the Indians. The country seemed so vast to me. It was beyond my comprehension it could be crowded. Beyond belief anyone had been here in the past 20 years.
It takes three days to get home, running 15 hour days. But we are happy and excited. I run the boat all the way to Fairbanks and have the dealer there drive down to the river to make his buy. Tourists gawk at us as it takes two people to lift a muddy tusk into the back of a van with no explanation to the crowd. The folks did not just see what they just saw because it's just so weird. Too far out of their reality.
I get $3,000 cash as my cut. Not bad for a week's work. Beats working for a living.
I get $3,000 cash as my cut. Not bad for a week's work. Beats working for a living.
There is somewhat of a racial issue here, since Al is Indian and Gene is white. The Minto Indians give Gene a hard time on the river I am told. Al is a respected elder. Gene yells at them, gives the Mintonians the finger and such. Dang! It's a good way to get killed. The Minto people are pretty angry about how a respected Indian elder got treated by a white man.
There are problems within problems within problems that all overlap and get complicated. But Gene has his hands full, and I'm off his hit list for now.
There are problems within problems within problems that all overlap and get complicated. But Gene has his hands full, and I'm off his hit list for now.
The plane circles low upon seeing me, and searches for a place to land. My trail passes through a meadow. A long stretch of short grassy dried up slough. Perfect for a ski plane to land. It allows the pilot to walk the dog trail to the cabin just ahead. When I see who it is, it is my dentist friend Dave!
"Dave how are you! I thought you might be Fish and Game!" he laughs as he puts his hand out to shake mine. We have talked before about governments and rules and such topics, the ability or inability of man to govern himself without a stick.
"Miles, I was pulling teeth this morning and wanted a break, so flew out to see if you are around. I saw your trail and followed it." Dave has been my dentist for a lot of years now, and has become a friend. We trade my art work for his dental work. I get my teeth cleaned once a year or so. He looks my teeth over and lets me know if I have any upcoming problems with my teeth I need to know about. It amazes me that he can run my trapline looking for me. A trip that takes me four or five days with dogs, that takes him under an hour with a plane. It is amazing he can be pulling teeth, afterwards, on a lunch break fly from Fairbanks out here to visit and get away. He has told me in the past it is a nice break to sit in a cabin by kerosene light watching me skin furs and talk about other things then teeth, then get back to work for the afternoon. "So Miles, how is the trapping going this season?"
"Dave how are you! I thought you might be Fish and Game!" he laughs as he puts his hand out to shake mine. We have talked before about governments and rules and such topics, the ability or inability of man to govern himself without a stick.
"Miles, I was pulling teeth this morning and wanted a break, so flew out to see if you are around. I saw your trail and followed it." Dave has been my dentist for a lot of years now, and has become a friend. We trade my art work for his dental work. I get my teeth cleaned once a year or so. He looks my teeth over and lets me know if I have any upcoming problems with my teeth I need to know about. It amazes me that he can run my trapline looking for me. A trip that takes me four or five days with dogs, that takes him under an hour with a plane. It is amazing he can be pulling teeth, afterwards, on a lunch break fly from Fairbanks out here to visit and get away. He has told me in the past it is a nice break to sit in a cabin by kerosene light watching me skin furs and talk about other things then teeth, then get back to work for the afternoon. "So Miles, how is the trapping going this season?"
Still Wild is $25
shipping is by priority mail
shipping is by priority mail