“Just passing over Meander River now.” Mark Kirby’s voice crackled over the Cessna’s ancient intercom system. He peered out over the console and sighed as he banked the plane to the southwest, fed up with the tedium of keeping the river in perfect view from the right side of the plane. Crap, he thought, Tony will have us into British Columbia before he’s satisfied. It was stifling hot in the little plane and, as he shifted around in the sagging pilot’s seat, the dull ache in his lower back turned to stabbing pain. Only 24, he felt more like 60, largely due to the endless days spent in this cramped, uncomfortable, small plane. He could hardly wait until he had enough flying experience to apply for an airline job.
They’d already been following the river for nearly two hours, and were well across the border into Alberta now - even if they did turn back and fly cross country, it would be a good 90 minutes back to the airport in Hay River. Beside Mark in the right front passenger seat, 72 year old Tony Currie strained to see the river below. Short, squat, sun gleaming off his bald head, he hunched over until his crooked nose almost touched the side window. “Keep going!” he barked, sensing Mark’s reluctance. “We still need to get a look at the Chinchaga!” A retired government engineer, Tony was the town of Hay River’s resident expert on river breakup. Each spring he volunteered his time, experience and advice as the town braced itself for yet another flood. This long flight south into the upper extremities of the Hay River basin was an annual ritual for him in his river breakup monitoring efforts.
Behind Tony, Ellie Ward sighed, and looked out at the endless expanse of trees. Five feet tall and on the wrong side of both 50 years and 150 pounds, Ellie was a professor from Morris University in Alberta, whose scientific research program focused on ice jams and flood forecasting in Canada’s north. She struggled to lean across the empty seat beside her to look out the scratched little window on her left, but saw no ice jams in view. Trees, she thought. Nothing but bloody trees.
Behind Ellie her grad student, Brenda Patterson, sat sideways - her tall, rail thin body curled in the fetal position. With eyes closed and arms wrapped around her knees, she was fighting the nausea that plagued her whenever she had to do these ice mapping flights. Today’s marathon had definitely been the worst one yet. With only the one seat to choose from in the cramped back compartment, she was forced to endure the sun’s full force as it beat in on her through the right side window. There were no air vents back here and she felt like she was suffocating. On top of that, the wind had picked up in the last 15 minutes and the ride was getting distinctly bumpy. She debated asking Ellie to turn back, knowing Ellie would do it in a heartbeat - she only had to ask. But she didn’t want to look like a wuss in front of all the others. Why was it that she was the only one who ever got sick on these stupid flights? Her stomach pitched and rolled with the plane, threatening to betray her with an eruption of vomit. She pictured her half digested lunch splattered all over the window and the back of poor Ellie’s head. Oooo, bad image, she thought. Mark had told her to focus on the horizon, but she just couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. She groaned and prayed that her stomach would settle. What on earth had possessed her to eat a cheeseburger and fries before coming on this damn flight?
“No snow - melt’s all done,” Ellie said, hoping Tony would take the hint. Her eyes followed the river upstream as far as she could see; it went well off into the wooded distance. Aside from a few remnant pieces along the banks, there was no ice to be seen in the river. From Ellie’s perspective, they were done out here; in fact, they’d been done for a good half hour. There was nothing to see in the upper basin; the river breakup was long since over and the snowmelt runoff was receding. With absolutely no scientific value to her in flying further upstream, she stressed over the possibility that they could be missing something important back near town - like an ice jam flood. She mentally kicked herself for agreeing to come along on this interminable flight.
YOU ARE READING
Defining Moments
Adventure'Defining Moments’ is the story of Ellie Ward, a professor with a knack for making bad decisions at life’s crossroads, often with tragic consequences. At the age of nine, Ellie accidentally discovers a time portal near her childhood home, one that o...
