11/26/2023
"Hello, CAA? I'm...somewhere near the arctic circle." Except, there is no cell service. I think I'm injured, but I can't feel anything yet. I'm in shock. I don't even know which way I'm facing. It's so dark. I start to feel wind and snow hit my head from every direction, and I'm still in the car. It was so warm just a few seconds ago.
I can feel the ditch beside me. Still mostly in shock, I instinctively climb out and onto the road. I don't know which way I'm facing. I can barely see any road at all. Maybe a supply truck coming south from Tuktoyaktuk will see me if I wait here.
The wind is aggressively pushing at me, so cold that it feels sharp. My leg is starting to hurt, and so is my head. I have to start walking. I can't survive this cold sitting still. I really hope I'm facing south. I don't know it, but I crashed 150km away from the nearest town. It's over 36 hours of walking, if I never stop once, and never get turned around. I can feel the adrenaline wearing off. I can feel a lot more. How will I make it out of this?
Maybe that's how it happened, or maybe it happened during the warm season. I don't know, and I don't know how long that car had been there when we came upon it. What I do know, is that it was not the only one we saw. The burned-out and rusted frame of a early model pickup sat on the side of a busy section of highway 2. Who knows how many years it had been there. There were a few others as well, also evidently from some time ago.
This is no place for the weak. I really hope that the people involved in this crash made it and are well. Yukon is wild. There is also something awesome about the contrast of the natural landscape and the "skeletal remains" of an exclusively human experience.