Alaska: Day 21: 7-26-93: Photo Finish, Moose On A Bun And Helicopter Havoc

I awoke refreshed after getting the best night's sleep in days -- a solid six hours, inside a warm, cozy room, without any rain or mosquitoes to disturb my slumber. Ahhhh!

As the leaders rounded the last turn in today's leg, it looked like another typical racing day -- Andre was out in front, with Tony not far behind. I was convinced that Andre was on his way to winning his fourth bib. But then something happened -- in a lightning burst of energy at the finish line, Tony managed to push a wheel's length ahead of Andre, nosing him out by 1 second and capturing his first bib. It was an exciting photo finish, and evidence that maybe this race isn't as wrapped up as every one thought it was (After the first 4 days, Andre leads Tony by about 10 cumulative minutes -- a solid lead, but not insurmountable by any means). Andre vs. Tony should prove to be a suspenseful competition (guaranteed to keep you on the edge of your wheelchair!).

------------------Andre and Tony -- Awesome Competitors!-----------------

Dinner was interesting tonight, due to the rather exotic cuisine. For the first time in my life, I ate moose -- a mooseburger, to be exact. And damn if it wasn't downright tasty! It was a little darker and dryer than beef, and it had a distinct, but indescribable flavor. It was quite heavy though, and I could only eat one.

Today's campsite was unique, to say the least. Everything looked normal enough, at first glance -- a large, relatively flat, grassy area (perfect for tenting, actually). It wasn't until about a dozen of us had our tents pitched that I noticed a sign with small, faded, nondescript letters which read: "Caution: Helicopter Operations". Helicopter operations?! Believe me when I say that I did not like the sound of that! I studied the ground around me more closely, and sure enough, there was a primitave helipad, made of criss-crossed orange streamers, about 20 feet away. As the meaning of this discovery slowly sank in -- I thought to myself, "nothing good can come of this" -- Chase came running over, delivering the following news flash: "The Lady up there says that helicopters land here (no shit), and one is due any minute. She says if we are still here when it lands, our tents will be destroyed, and anyone inside will be killed!" (Hmmm . . . what's the bad news?)

I looked at Chase, then at the sign, and finally at my brand new $230 tent. I lingered on this last as three words drummed repeatedly through my brain -- "due any minute" . . . "due any minute" . . . "due any minute." This incessant line of thought (and my deer-in-the-headlights trance) was suddenly broken by a faint, but unmistakable sound -- thwip - thwip - thwip - thwip -- the inimitable echo of helicopter blades cutting through the air.

Chaos.

I ran to my tent and frantically ripped the stakes out of the ground. I was determined to get it out of harm's way -- I'd throw it if I had to. But it was no use -- the helicopter was already overhead. I looked at the helicopter . . . at the tent . . . at the helicopter . . . at the tent. I was once again paralyzed with indecision -- but only momentarily. The instinct for survival kicked in, and I decided to abandon the tent and save myself, dodging off to a safe distance. (It's funny the strange things that come to mind while in a panic, but as I went ducking for cover, the scene from the opening credits of the M*A*S*H TV series replayed in my head).

As the helicopter drew nearer, I watched with helpless fascination. A moment later, it was all over. The helicopter hovered briefly before floating down and landing . . . about 100 yards away. (Phew!) Only later did one of the Eilson boys tell me that they had talked to the pilot at the last minute and convinced him to change helipads.

As I went to retrieve my tent and move it to a different part of the field, I couldn't help but wonder whose bright idea it was to accommodate both campers and aircraft on the same piece of land (!)

The rest of the evening passed leisurely. I played some volleyball, Frisbee and horseshoes (scoring two ringers in as many tries!).


----------------------------Behold, My Horeshoe Prowess!------------------------

Before going to sleep, Val and I played a "best of 3" Pente match. I won the first game, and she took the last two. (Let the record show that Val was in the Pente Club in the sixth grade). I vowed to avenge my loss tomorrow night and fell asleep.