Second attempt Day 22

At the age of 51 years old, Dick Proenneke decided he needed a new and final challenge. After a career in the US navy and latterly as a mechanic, he upped sticks in the spring of 1968 and headed off to one of the wildest and most inhospitable parts of Alaska, to live and record a new life of solitude. He took only an early 16mm, wind-up movie camera, plenty of film and a few hand tools with him - removing all the handles from these before he set off so they would weigh less. The handles could always be re-made and refitted once he arrived. There would be no shortage of wood up there. 

He remained there, on his own, for most of the next 30 odd years. His first job was to make and attach new handles for his tools. Then, with those he built a home with his bare hands, a small but cozy log cabin, before the harsh winter set in. He recorded a series of fascinating short films along the way. He documented his initial struggles to reach a life of self-sufficiency, and then, once he had achieved that, his films reveal his incredible transformation into a trusted and accepted part of the Alaskan eco-system. Despite the lack of human contact he truly comes across as one of the most resourceful, determined and contented men I have ever seen.  He was happy being alone - he was living his dream. 

Despite all the big game on offer, he lived mainly off fish, refusing to kill anything too large which could not be eaten without leaving any waste. He befriended bears and caribou, spent evenings around his cosy log fire with various forms of wildlife for company and writing books. He soon had the most timid of creatures eating from his hands. He captured it all on film, as well as the sheer beauty and harshness of his surroundings. It is incredible to watch his environment and the scale of his challenges changing throughout the seasons. He died at the age of 86 a total legend to his cult following. He still fascinates me.

It's sure been a heck of a lonely week for me too. When back in the UK Rachel likes to make herself available for supply teaching and she enjoys catching up with the other teachers at her regular schools after being away in Spain. As they know and respect her well, they always seem very happy to re-employ her and bring her back in, despite her being away for half the year in total. Last week she spent most of the time at work, and so I ended up spending most of the daytime hours alone. Nevertheless, I managed to get myself into a nice routine. 

The country certainly seems to be getting back to a semblance of normality after Covid. This, together with the weather being so bad, resulted in some very quiet, windy and lonely countryside walks and bike rides. When the bad weather turned into a full on winter storm, I simply battened down the hatches and stayed indoors on the bike trainer. 

The weekend offered a chance to get close to people again though - many people - City were playing Spurs on Saturday night at the Etihad. It would be my first visit back there since my ill fated drinking session five weeks ago. I thought long and hard about the pros and cons of going. Would it be a step too far at this early stage? Would I be able to resist a drink after 15 years of enjoying a pint or five at the matches? In the end I decided against it. It had been a long week of hermitry and I was strangely, perhaps worryingly, getting used to it. My son could go with his girlfriend - I was safer watching it at home in my own company. 

I was keeping my head down I guess, taking the easy path to keep myself on the straight and narrow. On Friday night I decided against going to the pub, even for a non alcoholic beer. That has never happened before, but I just didn't feel like socialising. Instead I lit the log fire and did some home cooking, trying my hand at a chicken and dumplings in red wine sauce recipe - a good way to use up my large reserves of home grown and home brewed red wine. 

A mate who had arrived in Manchester for a short visit was also texting me for a meet up. Initially I was not keen to get together as I was finding everything much more manageable without social contact. Rachel had spotted the change in me and was the one to point out my reclusive behaviour. She was right. When I thought about it I was slowly withdrawing myself, perhaps even becoming more insular. I thought about Dick Proenneke and rewatched one of his films. He had changed into a recluse when he was my age all those years ago - was I heading down the same path?  

You are nothing like Dick Proenneke I concluded after watching the film.  He chose life as a hermit not through disillusionment, or as an easy way out, but as a challenge and test of his own resolve. He entered the Alaskan Wilderness as his reward for years of hard graft - his chosen retirement path. He was to enjoy an incredible 35 years alone in the wilderness before he died at the age of 86. In contrast my self imposed seclusion was happening for all the wrong reasons, because it was just the easy thing to do and motivated by fear of falling down again. I had missed a trip to watch City, a trip to the local pub with Rachel and was now turning down offers to meet friends. It was unhealthy. 

I called Liam back and asked him to join us at home to watch the City game over a takeaway curry. He accepted the invite. I treated myself to a 4 pack of Budweiser 0% for the game. Despite the match result we all enjoyed a fun, entertaining evening around the roaring log fire. It was good to laugh (and cry at the football)  - my first social contact since leaving Spain a week ago. 

I was out of the wilderness and back on track.