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Neil was terrified. He grabbed his nose, held his breath. The river bounced him against the ceiling, smashing his face and head against the ice. He began to black out.Suddenly they were free. But they'd become separated. Blake surfaced and scrambled toward the bank, searching for his father. Downstream he saw a spot, a flash of yellow being swept away, and he took off running after it -- across the icy banks, darting into the woods and then back onto the ice.
An oar had surfaced in the water near Neil, and he grabbed it. It helped keep him afloat in a low-water spot. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. "You've got to swim to me," Blake yelled. He found a dead spruce and held it out to his father. Neil seized the pole, and Blake pulled him in.
Neil was shaking so badly from hypothermia that he seemed to be having a seizure. As a doctor, Blake knew water that cold could kill in minutes. He had to warm his dad up. Checking his pocket, Blake found he still had his water-resistant lighter. Almost all their other supplies -- food, tent, clothing -- were lost. As quickly as he could, he built a fire. Next he constructed a small shelter with spruce branches and a grass floor. Then he stacked rocks for a fire pit. During the night, the men took turns stoking the fire and sleeping in snatches.
Their camp was near a creek so loaded with iron that the ice and rocks were stained orange. Knowing that no one would miss them for a good six days, Blake decided on Saturday morning that he had to go for help while he still had the strength. Father and son divided their meager belongings. Blake kept the lighter, knife, lip balm and map. He took Neil's long underwear and boots. Neil kept a T-shirt, shorts and water-resistant waders. Both wore yellow life jackets for warmth and visibility.
The plan was for Blake to head toward the town of Bettles 65 miles away. But there was a problem -- a thin blue line on the map.
"How will you get around that river?" Neil asked.
"I'll go downstream until I find a way to cross it," Blake said. The Tinayguk looked small on the map.
He set out walking and soon found that hiking over tundra was like stepping on bowling balls. Grass grew in clumps called tussocks. When Blake slipped off, his feet landed in snow melt. To keep bears away, he sang "Happy Birthday" to all his relatives and belted out the nursery songs that he performed for his toddler, Heath. For food, he caught ants and spiders and ate them. The taste was acidic.
By Saturday afternoon, Neil had established a routine: lie in the tiny shelter to prevent sunburn, pick up wood, feed the fire, drink water from the stream, sleep. Do it all over. Once, he slept too long and had to work feverishly to get the blaze going again. He'd need it during the cold night -- and he no longer had the lighter.
To keep bears away, he made noise and yelled out, "I am the king of the valley! If you want to talk to the king, you have to talk to the court jester! That's also me!"
But it was Blake who encountered a bear. Saturday afternoon, he spotted movement -- the biggest black bear he'd ever seen, maybe 500 or 600 pounds, was rummaging for food. Blake crouched down and tried to keep a spruce between himself and the animal. His heart was beating fast as the bear ambled on without noticing him. After that, he sang louder.
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