Mick's Big, Exciting Adventure!

This is a true story- well, a good part of it.

"Hey pal, what's up?" the fellow across the street shouts as he heads my way.

It's my neighbour Mick again. He's always got something to tell me, usually a story about his many adventures, past and present. I'm ready to start cutting the lawn, but I guess a guy has to be polite enough to listen. After all, our kids play together sometimes.

I shut off the machine and remove my ear protection. All those concerts when I was younger did a number on my hearing.

"Mick! So... what's new with you? Haven't seen you around much lately," I say with some fake enthusiasm.

"That's because I've been so busy getting ready for my trip in a few months. Really pumped up about it...."

Damn! It sounds as though he's about to launch into another long story about something exciting he's got on tap. With Mick, the best part of a forthcoming adventure seems to be telling everyone about it. And, I was hoping to finish the yardwork before the sun gets too high. Plus, there are all those papers to grade later today. But I need to humour the guy and hope he'll finish before long.

"Seems you're always going somewhere interesting. Where this time?"

"The Arctic, man! I've wanted to do that for a while now, getting up where the explorers and gold-seekers and fur traders went. Now I have a chance to go and really get the feel of the whole thing...."

I want to keep things short so I can get on with my tasks, so I gently interrupt.

"So, when are you going, Mick?"

"Well, we have to be in reasonable shape because there's supposed to be plenty of physical activity involved. I'm just back from the gym and man, what a workout! First push-ups since I was on the college team. And sit-ups! My gut is aching now, but it'll get better over the next couple of months until we're ready to go...."

I'd better try another way to get this moving along.

"And what date are you working toward? When do you go?"

"Right. Early August. That's when the weather is usually warm. Do you know they have wildflowers up there? Imagine- flowers in the Arctic! All kinds of things growing in the short summer. We're supposed to bring light clothes for daytime and a sweater for later or a cool day. But, no shorts or t-shirts because the mosquitos will eat you alive...."

"And you want to do that?"

"Definitely! Think Yukon Gold Rush. Northwest Passage. Franklin Expedition. Northern lights! It just doesn't get any better than that. Hell, what are a few bugs anyway? That's why they make the repellant, right? No, I won't let some little things like that stand in my way. Did insects stop the gold-seekers? Nah.... Won't stop me either...."

"Hey Mick, I need to get back to this right now. Short on time. Let's have a beer and talk about your trip some evening. How about next Friday? I'd like to hear more about it."

I'm not lying. For once I'm interested in hearing my neighbour talk about his latest adventure. I'd read the books myself, since I was young. The accounts of Arctic expeditions were often tales of daring-do, discovery and hardship. The tough and the brave struggled against powerful Nature, defying obstacles to reach their goals. It was powerful stuff for the young imagination.

"Yeah sure, Tim. That'd be good. Next Friday at my place. Come over about 7:00, OK?"

Just when I think I can get back to work, Mick has more to add.

"I'm on a strict training program to get ready for this, so I hope you don't mind if I have light beer. Less calories, great taste, you know. I'll be hiking far and probably carrying a heavy pack of camping gear and food. It's going to be demanding but I'll be ready, and...."

"Yeah, light beer is fine," I cut in. "And some cut veggies instead of potato chips, if you're really into fitness."

"Uhhh... sure. Good idea. See you next Friday."

When my neighbour walks back across the road, I turn to cut the grass.

"Jeez!" I say to myself as I wander along my first cut row. "Wish that I could do that. My life is so boring compared to him travelling up North. What the Hell! I need to break out of my routine and take some risks. Something bold and different, not just the same old things."

I decide to act on my resolution right away. Turning the lawnmower forty-five degrees from my completed first row, I begin to cut the grass diagonally, a whole new pattern for me. It isn't much, but it is a step toward changing my dull ways.

After I finish, Marybeth confirms the wisdom of my bold venture in grass-cutting.

"Nice job, honey! I like the new way you cut the lawn today. Did Mick suggest that to you? I saw you guys talking just before you started. It was a good plan."

"No, it was my own idea, not his!"

I'm annoyed because I know that in a way, my neighbour was behind it.

__________

During the week, Mick's Northern adventure kept running through my brain. I pictured myself in a driving blizzard, mushing my team of barking sled dogs toward a comfortable cabin with a raging fire. Inside, Marybeth would be awaiting my return, naked in bed under thick furs. Should I first eat the hot stew and bannock she prepared, or jump right into an extended romp with my woman? Either one would warm my cold blood, so I decide....

"Mr. Burwick, I need some help with this work," brought me back to the classroom, another element in my dull existence.

"Be right there, Craig. I was just planning something," I mumbled, now jolted from my pleasant reverie.

Why hadn't I become a researcher, like a biologist studying the effects of climate change on the migration patterns of caribou herds? Or, a geologist, dropped off by helicopter to scout for the next big diamond discovery? I should be an engineer, deciding the best way to take valuable minerals from Earth's crust. Instead, I'm helping a kid complete a worksheet I downloaded from the Internet last evening.

I rushed through my lessons and marking all week so that I could dig out some books I hadn't opened in years. Some were on my shelves, while others languished in dusty boxes in a closet. Mick's summer expedition fueled me to re-read stories that had captured my interest in the past: Martin Frobisher, Henry Hudson, Edward Parry, and all my Arctic heroes, right down to ill-fated John Franklin.

Every one of them made for fascinating reading- if you are interested in that sort of thing. I wondered if Mick knew about Martin Frobisher. He was one of the first Europeans to explore Baffin Island, looking for a northern entrance into the fabled Northwest Passage to Asia. He didn't locate it, but thought he had found something better. Much better. Gold!

Frobisher brought chunks of a glittering rock back to England, and returned twice with a flotilla of ships to mine as much as could be transported. Unfortunately, it proved to be 'fools gold', worthless horneblende. A stone wall and some cottages in England built of the stuff is all the venture amounted to. How could he live down such a blunder financed by investors?

Had Mick heard Henry Hudson's unfortunate story? None of his three attempts to find the Northwest Passage were successful and the last one cost his life. In his effort to reach Asia, he first followed the Hudson River inland. Later, Hudson sailed through frozen seas above Russia, but blocked by ice, he tried a North American laneway beyond Frobisher's route.

Hudson Bay bears his name, the place where the captain, his son, and sick or loyal crewmen were abandoned by mutineers among his men. They didn't want to continue exploring the bay and spend another winter in the ice, so they took control of the ship, setting the others adrift in a small sailboat. Bones discovered years later on a tiny island suggested their fate in the freezing Arctic winter.

Wives don't usually miss much. Marybeth noticed that I had retrieved some old books and was spending a lot of time curled up reading.

"What's got your interest lately, Tim. I haven't seen you buried in anything but schoolbooks until this week. If it's sexy romance, pass it on to me. Seems I can only read about it lately, since you're so preoccupied." And she gave me a little mock pout.

"Sorry, hon. I guess I have. Can I catch up with you tonight? As soon as the kids are in bed for good, OK?"

"Sure. But what's grabbed your attention so much, anyway?" she said, pointing to my book.

"The Arctic. Mick was telling me last weekend that he's taking a trip there this summer. You know how he likes to tell everybody what he's doing. In this case, I wish that I was going with him. I've always liked to read about the explorers and their discoveries..."

"You mean the colonizers and their conquests, right," she corrected me, with a sarcastic little laugh. She's a teacher too.

"Oh, so I have to toe the party line with you. Enough that I'm supposed to use that crap in school now. I just can't get used to it you know. Like teaching an old dog new tricks, eh. But you're right. The North wasn't empty space. There were people already there."

"So, enough of that. It'll be our little secret. Tell me more about the trip. Is Janine going too?"

"Mick didn't mention her, but I'm going over for a beer Friday evening, so I'll hear all about it. He's already told me about his diet and workout routine to get in shape for it."

"Oh, a real outdoorsy adventure, is it?"

"Sounds that way, and I wish that I was going along too."

"Sometimes the promise isn't as good as the real thing," she cautioned. "Mick may find out that this kind of adventure isn't the same as stretching out on a beach in Cancun before venturing over to the tiki hut for another margarita."

I grinned at the picture of it.

"Yeah. Maybe you're right. Hey, can I help you with anything now, or are you getting ready for tomorrow?" I asked, thinking of the night ahead.

Teachers will tell you that anyone worth their salt in the profession is always "getting ready for tomorrow", or next week or next month. It's a seemingly endless cycle until summer rolls around.

"Some tests to mark," she shrugged. "Again."

"OK, I'm going to read a bit longer and then I have an important appointment to keep."

"Appointment? This late? Where?"

"With you. In our bed."

Marybeth smiled, and I knew that look well enough to know it was going to happen tonight. But I turned back to the book, knowing that the kids would be up for another hour anyway. I started into the Arctic exploits of Captain Edward Parry.

Parry made three Arctic voyages from Britain between 1819 and 1825. He almost found the much-sought Northwest Passage, sailing across broad, connected channels almost to the Bering Sea and Asia beyond. In fact, his "farthest west" stood for several decades. But the weather on that first voyage had been strangely favourable, the best for many years to come.

His third Arctic expedition almost ended in disaster, with the loss of all hands on two ships, Fury and Hecla. The former became locked in the crush of ice, damaged beyond all hope of repair. Hecla narrowly escaped the same fate and managed to carry both crews back to Britain. Later, Sir John Franklin, his two ships and all the men on board wouldn't be so fortunate.

The kids were asleep and Marybeth was waiting for me. The spring night was cool, and she had thrown a thick, brown quilt on the bed. She lay cuddled under it, almost like my earlier in-school daydream.

"The huskies are fed and here I am," I joked.

"What are you talking about?" she replied, pretending to be annoyed. "If you keep reading that stuff, you and your dogs will sleep on the floor."

I knew by the way she was fooling with me she might very well be naked under the blankets. A few moments later confirmed that I was right.

"Get in here before you give me a chill, dammit. And don't you touch me until your hands are warmed up, John Franklin," Marybeth teased again.

"I didn't get that far yet," I replied, referring to the chronology of the book.

"Well, if you're cold, you won't get very far here either."

So I vigorously rubbed my hands together- the heat of friction- until they passed muster with my wife. We kissed, lightly at first and then more enthusiastically. Soon my warm hands caressed her fine breasts, and my fingers drew them to lovely peaks. Then her hands found me too, her fingers curling around my rising member. It was warm under the covers, so before long we pushed them to the floor.

"Hope the dogs don't sleep on the blankets," I whispered.

"Care to join them?" she joked, playfully pushing me down onto the bedding.

Then she slid down on top and we made love there on the floor of our little cabin in the woods. It seemed to me like we had entered another place outside this humdrum world. My wife was really into it too, responding to my affections, matching me sigh for groan. This was intense sex like we hadn't experienced for some time!

I couldn't hold back much longer, and I sensed that Marybeth was there too. Her eyes were jammed shut, while her fine chest rose and fell sharply with her pounding heart. We both gasped for breath. Then in a flurry of heaving bodies, we arched over the top together, and fell back into the suburban bedroom we'd briefly left behind.

"That was amazing, honey," she breathed heavily, her beautiful eyes aglow.

"It really was incredible! But it's cold down here now," I rasped in reply, gathering the bedding around us.

"You were like somebody else tonight, Tim. So intense! Tell me... who was it? Were you somewhere in that book? That business about your huskies?"

"No, not the book. Just some daydreaming earlier this week, thinking about the North."

"Well, keep on reading and daydream all you want! I'll be ready for more of this."

__________

For the rest of the week I did some more reading and daydreaming. Marybeth and I made love most nights too, roleplaying for fun and romance. I was a Skagway gambler and she played the sexy saloon gal.The next night, an Arctic explorer came home to his waiting wife after a winter with his ship locked in the ice.

The Arctic seized my soul that week. I embarked on a lessons about the latitudinal extremes of Earth- Arctic and Antarctic. Material from my old books was a hit with the students, at least compared to memorizing capes and bays, countries and capitals. Friday came very quickly.

At about 7:00, I went across to Mick's place, and he led me into his office by the front entry to the house. I really don't know Mick all that well, except that he operates his own business, having worked his way up from stock boy to buying out the previous owner. This affords a very nice home, fancy cars, and perks like travel.

True to his word, he had light beer. A plate of cut vegetables sat on the table between us.

"Sticking to your diet I see."

"Absolutely. And working out most days. I'm starting to feel better already."

"And Janine. Is she doing the same thing too?" This was my indirect way of satisfying my wife's curiosity.

"Nope. I'm going with another guy from town. We'll share a tent. People from all over the place are coming on this trip: Europe, the States, Canada. It's a meeting of Arctic fanatics."

"So, who operates this? Is it a standard tour through a travel agent or something you found online?"

"On-line. It's a company that specializes in these things, a little corner of the industry. Like the ones who bring car guys together to big events overseas. Pretty select and quite expensive, so the less you say about it to Jan, the better."

"OK, I've been warned. How long are you up there anyway?"

"The whole thing is about two weeks, but it will take four days to get to their camp and back. I'll need to take at least three flights in small planes before I actually arrive. This camp is in the middle of nowhere up in the Arctic islands."

"So, what are you going to be doing during the ten days in camp? Hiking? Climbing?"

"That's hard to know until we get there. They talk about keeping us safe from wolves and bears, but say we'll have opportunities to see history, culture and the environment up close. There's a whole list of topics, and they look very interesting, but the timing depends on the weather."

He showed me a printout marked up with highlighting and I wondered how much of this might actually take place.

"All that time, travel and expense, but you're not sure what you'll be doing! That sounds strange to me. Is this a reputable business, Mick?"

"Absolutely! I checked it all out carefully. They're recognized by Indigenous leaders, government officials and top university researchers. In fact, people from each of those groups and others will be part of our program. I'm excited about it."

I didn't want to press too much, so I shifted gears a bit to something I knew would interest me if I went up there.

"Are you going to see any important places, like things from the early expeditions? Like the grave markers of those two Franklin sailors who died early in the voyage? Researchers say their frozen corpses show lead poisoning from the canned foods, or scurvy- maybe both."

"I hope we see that. And I'd really like to visit the research going on where divers located Erebus and Terror, both Franklin's ships sunk where they were abandoned in the ice. This is all over adventure media nowadays."

"No wonder," I added knowingly. "If it hadn't been for the missing expedition, and all the searches demanded by Lady Franklin for the next dozen years, the region would have been pretty much untouched by Europeans for a long time."

Mick had been browsing all sorts of information about the North on his computer in recent weeks. He was eager to match stories with me and showed an impressive knowledge for an Arctic novice. He's one of those people who throw themselves into something new with incredible zeal. This year it was his great Arctic adventure. Next year is anybody's guess.

We spent an enjoyable evening in conversation about his trip and stories about the region. One beer followed another and before I knew it Janine was poking her head into the study.

"Oh, are you two are still at it? Mick's really excited about this. I hope he gets as much out of it as he plans. Frankly, I'm getting a little tired of hearing all these stories of hardship and disappointment."

I checked my phone and realized it was time to call it a night.

As I crossed the street, I wondered if Marybeth was in the mood again tonight. Our love had been smoking hot all week and both of us just seemed to want more games from the past. I was ready and willing!

The house was quiet when I came in. The kids were already abed and a bit of light came from under our bedroom door. I peaked inside and there stood my wife in her finest, sexiest lingerie- sheer black with a garter around her thigh. Omigod!

"What's this?"

"Welcome home sailor. You came to the right place," she whispered seductively.

"Who are you?" I stammered, recognizing there was another game in play here as my Marybeth posed and preened for my hungry eyes.

"Your favourite, of course. Madam saved me for you tonight."

Ah, the naval officer and the 'working girl'. Now this would be a night to remember!

__________

Mick's big adventure was working out well for me, even though I wasn't even part of it. Recharged nights with my sweet wife, lovemaking to silly Arctic themes, left us eager to play some more. It had revitalized my daytime job too, with some new lessons about the North that interested my students. On top of that, I was getting to know my neighbour better.

As the trip drew closer, the two of us spent plenty of time talking about our new favourite topic. I kept reading while he prowled the Internet and YouTube, searching out more information. He kept up with his fitness and diet regime too, gradually transferring excess weight from his mid-section to arms, shoulders and legs.