Chapter 1

My name is Bob Wagner and this is about my life after I returned to Alaska. I do hope you enjoy my story. First I need to provide you with a little background as to why I desired to return.

I moved from Alaska when I was a nine-year-old kid. I had returned to visit on several occasions over the years. I had always enjoyed the outdoor life there and looked forward to my next visit. One of my uncles also moved out of Alaska a year after I did and settled on a farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains above Front Royal, Virginia. My Dad had worked for the federal government and we lived about 20 miles outside of Washington DC, in Falls Church, Virginia, until he retired and then he moved to Florida, while I joined the Navy.

I spent many a weekend, as well as my summers working on my uncle's farm in Virginia when I didn't get the chance to return to Alaska. I graduated high school and joined the Navy. I was lucky, and was able to attend the school of my choice to become a Training Device Man (TD). I was stationed at Willow Grove NAS, which is about 30 miles north of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, for the entire length of my active duty.

After my separation from the Navy, I attended the University of New Mexico and obtained a master degree in Computer Science. By then I was 26 years old. I worked out in the gym three to four days a week. I was six feet even and weighed about 165 pounds. To say the least, I was in the best shape of my life.

As for my social life, I had dated on and off through high school and then again in college. I had a total of three long-term girl friends during my lifetime. The one from high school ended while I was attending Navy "A" School with a "Dear John" letter. She told me she was getting married to my best friend in high school. I place a lot of value on loyalty so I scratched those two friends from my short list of friends. The two in college had ended suddenly also. The first had ended when she graduated and moved on, while I still had two years to go before I would finish my degree. Mary, my last girlfriend of six months, decided that moving to Alaska was not even to be considered and that she had accepted a job in Denver and she expected me to follow her there. I might have considered not moving to Alaska, but I deeply resented the idea that I was not included in the discussion or decision about Denver. After a heated argument, we split up.

Two years ago during a summer break; I had spent the summer working in Alaska for my Uncle Howard. We moved a bulldozer and a combination back-hoe/front-end loader to his mining site south of the Brooks Range, in the central interior of Alaska. Both were used equipment but in good shape. The trip up to his site took six weeks, which included the equipment being hauled by truck, then shipped on a barge, then finally driven the last 50 miles. We used the bulldozer when necessary to clear the way for the front-end loader.

When I questioned Uncle Howard about this effort and expense, he explained that he had taken $9,500 out of the mine last summer, over a two month period, by hand. He felt he should be able to extract much more next summer with the equipment, but this summer would be used to set up a camp and fabricating the equipment required to separate the gold from the sand and gravel. His mine was situated, just before a bend in a medium size river, about two miles below where two different streams joined the river in less than half a mile. The streams came out of the mountains and Uncle Howard said that he had not found any traces of gold further up these streams nor further up the river itself. Uncle Howard speculated that there had been another small river or stream that had joined the river, since a small valley ran back into the mountain range. It had dried up, unlikely, or more likely, the course of the river had been changed due to some geological force such as a landslide or earthquake, which is not uncommon in Alaska. At any rate he had not been able to locate the original source of the gold.

The following year, Uncle Howard had been diagnosed with cancer. He had hired two men to help him at the claim but he had been unable to stay longer than two weeks but they had gotten a large rocker box and sluice working and the claim was now ready to be worked full time.

During my last year of college, I was having a phone conversation with Uncle Howard in early January, when he asked, "Would you be willing to work the claim after you graduate?"

"I have not had a job offer as of now, so, Yes, I WILL take you up on that offer for the summer, gladly."

"Please give me 25% of the gross profits, which I will use to pay off the debt I have incurred setting up the mining site."

"I should pay you more than 25%" I objected.

"No, the mine has been set up so a single person could run the whole thing. You will have to pay for your transportation. I will pay for food, and any other material you need while you finish setting up the site."

During May, I was advised by my father, that Uncle Howard was in a hospital in Seattle, Washington and was not expected to live more than a few weeks. I completed the two remaining finals I had to take. I gave away most of my belongings, packed up the rest for storage with a moving company, with plans to ship to wherever I ultimately settled, at a later date.

I arrived in Seattle in the afternoon of the third Sunday in May. Dad met me at the airport and immediately took me to see Uncle Howard. The cancer had done a nasty job on him. Had I not known it was him, I would have been hard pressed to recognize him. Part of the problem was they had removed the lower jawbone and the upper teeth on his right side in a bid to remove the cancer after it had been first detected. That was the side he always kept a cigar whether it was lit or not, for as long as I could remember.