Running the Rowley by Tim Mason
It was with some trepidation that I joined the 1995 Rowley River expedition at the invitation of my old friend John Gow as I had never been that close to so many Liberals in my life! However we set politics aside and they turned out to be a delightful bunch.
On our arrival at the river, George Falconer and I took a two hour hike up into nearby hills which were very reminiscent of my native Dartmoor in England. It was a pleasure to find there were no bugs, which was true throughout the trip.
The second camp was by a spectacular falls with the tents scattered between huge granite boulders on short grass. It was comfortable camp; with lawn chairs for all. Eddie caught a good Arctic char which we put in a pool nearby to await decisions as to its fate.
The chefs had other plans so – having once before tickled a trout after reading about it in one of John Buchan’s books – I volunteered to do the job. Much to everyone’s surprise, including my own, I managed to tickle it into submission and returned it to the river in good shape.
We saw a wolf, several caribou, some Sandhill cranes and lots of snow geese, which couldn’t fly as they were in the moult.
I was in the middle of having some dental work done and was using a temporary upper partial which broke about half way through the trip leaving me with a couple of fangs and making eating difficult. I scared the stewardess on the plane home by smiling at her!
It was a wonderful trip with great companions, especially George who was my bowman and tent mate, and he didn’t even snore! It was a privilege to know him.