Winter Wanderer

He seemed to materialize amid the swirling snow as if the blizzard had birthed him. His measured pace was somehow relaxed and easy in his heavy furs and woven snowshoes. Watching from the warmth of my cabin window, I nearly dropped my mug of coffee in amazement. Where was he coming from? There was nothing but a frozen lake behind him, and my nearest neighbor was twenty miles in the opposite direction. In all my winters here, this was the first time I’d had a visitor.

After my initial shock wore off, I came to my senses. I threw on my coat and boots and snatched my rifle from above the mantle. He was headed straight for my front door. He had probably seen my chimney smoke. I gathered my thoughts and steadied myself against my climbing heartrate. I threw open the door and leveled my father’s rifle to aim dead center upon the stranger.

“Stop where you are, mister, and state your business plainly.” I bellowed at the top of my lungs over the howling wind. He stopped and slowly raised his arms just above his shoulders.

“I am only a traveler in search of company and conversation, and perhaps a warm fire. I am armed against the wilds with rifle, bow, and knife. But I mean you no harm and will gladly leave them outside if you grant me your hospitality.” His gruff baritone carried easily.

I let the windsong fill the gap in conversation as I mulled over the man in my sights. He stood roughly ten paces from my steps, patiently waiting. He seemed older than me judging by the long strands of silver hair escaping his hood. Age, however, meant little if he was able to survive alone in the Alaskan wilderness. He was obviously quite capable and therefore possibly dangerous. Even so, my curiosity outweighed the resolve of my reservations.

“I have a pot of coffee and a warm fire I’m willing to share. But I’ll take you up on leaving your weapons on the porch. Move slowly, this rifle is loaded.” I said.

He nodded as a warm smile creased his crow’s feet and lifted his whitewashed whiskers. He stopped at the base of the steps, bracing against the railing as he removed his snowshoes. He glanced up and winked as he stabbed them upright into the snow. He climbed the steps with his hands up. I stepped to the side, all the while keeping a bead on him.

He slowly slid his hand under the leather strap of his rifle and pulled it over his head. He set it down gingerly on the rough-hewn log bench. Next was his bow and quiver. With one hand he unlashed three large bone buttons on his fur coat. Lifting one side of the heavy garment back, he exposed the antler handle of a knife. Waiting for my nod, he then removed it, sheath and all, to lay beside his other weapons.

“My name is Elias. You’re welcome to search my bag inside but it’s only survival kit and a healthy size flask of grog to keep my belly warm and my eyes beaming.” He said with a wry smile.

“Maybe just a look, but don’t blame me for keeping my rifle close, Elias. I’m Sam.” I said as I backed inside my cabin.

“Of course not, it’s only prudent. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He replied.

As I passed my threshold, I waved him in with the muzzle. He nodded again with that friendly smile; I was beginning to like him already. He seemed almost familiar. He closed the door before shrugging off his coat. He was a bit taller than me at 6’2” and had a sturdy build. His face was creased with age and tanned like leather. Frost and snow clung to his unkempt beard. He slid a large leather satchel from his shoulder and handed it my way.

“Here you are, lad. After you’ve had a peek, I would love a mug of that coffee you mentioned.”

“Sure thing.” I said absently as I went over the contents. He was telling the truth. There were snares, bandages, a wallet, flint and striker, a few small tins, some jerky, and a large flask.

“You might fetch that firewater out for us, just in case.” He winked again. Yep, I was starting to like him alright.

I pulled the flask out and tossed it to him. I shouldered my rifle and got another chair to sit by the fire. He was already fanning his hands through the flames as I pulled up the second seat. “Sit and warm yourself. I’ll get you a mug.” I said. He only smiled in response as he looked about the room, studying the pictures and bric-a-brac. My cabin was a meager affair. It only had one room, which held the fireplace, kitchen, and bedroom. The “bathroom” was an outhouse. But it had been in my family for generations, and I loved it.

“I enjoy a modest lifestyle, and those who appreciate it.” He said.

“I completely agree. Though truth be told, I only stay here over the winters. The isolation helps my mind to wander and stills my hands long enough to write. The rest of the year I live in Seattle and dream of the Alaskan snow.” I said with a chuckle. I handed him his mug of coffee and sat next to him sipping my own.

“It does conjure the mysteries of the world, doesn’t it? Something so serene and beautiful that can steal away with your life in the cold of night.” It was his turn to chuckle.

“I like that.” I said as I sipped my coffee. “So where exactly are you coming from? There isn’t much in the way of civilization out here.” I asked.

“What would you say if I told you I walked here from the west fjords of Iceland?” He asked as he raised a searching eyebrow.

“I’d ask if you were the second coming since there are some mighty large ponds between here and there.” I said holding back my laughter. He just smiled again.

“It’s a heavier wet snow coming down at the moment, here.” He said quietly, as he looked out the window. “I’ve not been inside this solemn sanctuary of a shack in quite some time.” He said in a louder tone as he shrugged his shoulders back to stretch.

“You’ve been here before? Did you know my father?” I was suddenly very interested.

“Yes, I knew him well. Him and your uncle Henry. At least, I knew them both when they were boys.” His smile faded as he looked into the fire before sipping his coffee.

“Uncle Henry died about six years ago, and my father last year. There’s so much I wish I had asked them both, now that they’re gone. Anyway, they left me the cabin. I’m the only one who cares to come up here.” I shook my head in amazement. “You know it’s crazy, but my dad used to call it his solemn sanctuary too.”

“Did he now?” Elias chuckled softly.

“So did you grow up in this area like my father?” I asked.

“Indeed, I did. My father dragged his pregnant wife up here. They built the family cabin with their own hands.” He said with pride.

“Is that where your headed to? Your family cabin?” I asked.

“It’s where I’ve been intending my journey to end.” He screwed the cap of the flask off and poured a fair amount in his coffee. He raised the flask to me with coy smile. I gladly accepted. He watched me pour a bit in my coffee as he sipped constantly from his own. I handed the flask back.

“I’ve got something to show you, Samuel. It’s in my coat pocket by the door. Do you mind if I get it?” He asked.

“That’s fine. What is it?” I asked.

“Just an interesting souvenir I found decades ago. Wait here” He rose slowly leaning heavily on the chair for support. I watched him straighten and walk over to his coat. I slid the rifle to my side and set the stock down on the floor with a thud as he reached towards it. He grinned without looking up from the task of pulling a small leather wrapped item from the inner pocket. He withdrew it very methodically and raised it for me to see. He came back to his chair with his coffee in one hand and his souvenir in the other. He sat in his chair and put down his mug. He raised the small cue ball sized object to eye level in one palm. He unwrapped the thin elk skin hide, stained from years of handling. Inside was a perfectly round orb, clear as glass, that held something furry and white suspended within.

“What’s that inside? A rabbit’s foot or something?” I leaned in closer to look. “No, too big for a rabbit.” I said as he rotated it in his palm. “It looks more like a dog. Wait, no that’s a fox, isn’t it?” I asked as I sat upright with a smile.

“Good job, child, good job. It’s the well-traveled paw of an artic fox. They have massive migrations across every type of cold terrain. They are creatures of legend and mystery, well known for their expansive expeditions. They trek across sea ice and mountains with ease. Some say they dance between the snowflakes and are carried within the storms.” He was transfixed by the orb.

“What’s it made of? Resin?” I asked as I reached out to touch it. He pulled it back on instinct before extending it to me slightly.

“I believe It’s a magical ice that never melts.” He said. I touched the surface of it with two fingers.

“It’s cold, but it’s not wet. Besides, you said you’ve had it for decades. I think you might just be too melodramatic to call it glass” I laughed.

“Maybe I am. But what say we put it next to the fire to warm up a bit before you decide?” He leaned forward and rolled it gently to rest a few inches from the fire. “I got that orb in a hunting accident. I was a young man then, perhaps 30. I was tracking an elk through a soft snowfall near a small babbling brook. I can still see its silhouette against the orange twilight filtering through the trees. Just as I was squeezing my trigger a figure slunk out from behind a tree to obscure my view of the elk.” Elias shook his head slowly. “There was nothing I could do. We were both focused on the elk.”

“He died? The man you shot?” I asked quietly.

“She died. Yes. The elk bolted, of course, and she collapsed forward onto her raised bow. I ran to her aid. Her hood was down, and her long grey hair was tied back and braided with ribbon. She fumbled within her furs to bring out this very orb as her life blood spilled out steaming into the melting snow. She held up the orb and I reached for it, misunderstanding her intention. Just as I grasped it, she closed her eyes and her whole body flickered in and out of existence, though her hold on the orb stayed firm. She opened her eyes in confusion and yanked the orb away from me. As she did so, it flew from her hand landing several feet away. She tried to reach for it but was losing consciousness fast. I recoiled in shock from what I’d just seen, still I went to retrieve it for her. I picked it up, and my head began to swim as I turned around. When I regained my footing, I realized things had changed. She was no longer lying there in the forest valley. Instead, I saw only the face of a granite mountain climbing up out of sight.” Elias raised his thick white eyebrows as he nodded slowly. “It had transported me thousands of feet up onto some unknown mountain.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean it transported you? Like you were teleported, all star trek like?” I asked incredulously. “And she flickered? Like she disappeared completely right in front of you? I think your firewater is stretching your storytelling friend.” I said with a grin.

“Not exactly. See, only one person can be touching the orb to travel. I had no idea I was actively anchoring her when I grasped it. She could have just been a ghost story I told my boys at night if I hadn’t reached for it. The magic might have ended right there.” He stared into the fire once more. “But that’s not how it worked out. I was terrified when the reality of what happened sank in. I had absolutely no idea where I was. The orange winter twilight was now a brighter yellow from a sun much higher in the sky. I was peering down from a mountain at the tail end of a heavy snowstorm. It was a breathtakingly beautiful view, but a completely foreign one.” He bowed his head to massage the bridge of his nose. “The worst of it was I had left my boys behind in the Alaskan wilderness, their mother had already passed the winter before.”

“Okay, I’m still not buying into this story, but why couldn’t you just jump back? You know like rub the magic ball and just go back home.” I asked.

“It’s not that easy, not without practice. It took years to figure out how to control my snow drifting. It takes intense visualization and concentration. By that time my boys were men. It was a stain on my heart that I had abandoned them, even if it was unintentional. I watched from afar before approaching one evening. My oldest son was there in my father’s cabin. The only thing he could spare me was a cuff on the chin for leaving them alone as boys. I never could fault him for it.” A tear ran down his craggy old face into his white beard. I could feel the emotion in his voice, but it was such an outlandish tale. Still, I wanted to hear more.

“It wasn’t all bad. Other than my boys I have few regrets in my long life of adventure. I’ve traveled the world on the blizzard winds. I’ve worked crabbing vessels and led artic hunting expeditions. I’ve studied under Tibetan monks and Slavic Volkhv. I’ve explored ice caves and frozen tundra. I’ve bathed in snowy hot springs with macaques. I feasted on nature’s bounty when the salmon ran up stream and fought a Kodiak with only my wits and my blade just for the right to keep breathing. I’ve seen the worst white out blizzards you can imagine and the softest snowfall under the polar glow. I have lived in this world, and I know its splendor.” He drew in a deep breath and sighed heavily.

“Fought a Kodiak with a knife huh? How’d that work out?” I asked skeptically.

“Not too well on the first go round. Would have died if I hadn’t snow drifted out of there to heal, but the big guy made a great coat when I hunted him down later. Thankfully that orb has amazing restorative powers if you keep skin contact with it in the snow. It won’t let you freeze to death or even suffer frost bite. Even seems to slow aging. That was what she had been trying to do all those years ago. She wanted to travel elsewhere to heal in the snow after I shot her. Of course I couldn’t know that.” He finished his coffee. Pushed himself creakily up to his feet and stretched. He held up his flask. “I’m going to go take a nip outside while I make drawings in the snow.” He started walking towards his coat and stopped to look back at me. His eyes seemed to appraise my very soul as he scanned me top to toe. “Why don’t you judge for yourself while I take my leave. It’s had more than enough time to be scorching hot by now, but I’d wager my life on it being colder than packed snow. Might take your rifle though, and remember, visualization and concentration.” As he said this, I looked back at the orb so close to the fire. The flames danced behind it backlighting the fox paw within. I heard the door slam and turned to see he had left his coat inside.

I jumped up and ran to put on my own boots and coat. By the time I grabbed his bearskin and got the door open I could barely make out his fading silhouette in the furious blizzard. I thought I could see him tipping his flask up before being swallowed by snow. I noticed he had kicked off his boots on the porch, and a few paces further I saw his shirt in the snowbank. I tried to follow the string of cast-off clothing into the storm while I carried his coat, but lost track of him almost immediately. Even his tracks were wiped away by the fierce wind and snowfall. I turned back before I got lost.

Inside, I stomped off the cold snow and tossed his heavy coat down. As I did so, an old photo fell out and slid across the floor. Intrigued, I picked up and studied it. It was a black and white picture of my father and my uncle as boys standing with their parents. I had never seen a photo of my grandfather, but he bore an uncanny resemblance to the winter wanderer that had just left my cabin. My hands started to tremble as I turned my gaze towards the artic fox paw that seemed to be gently beckoning me in the fire light.