Day 13

In Inuvik

Finally got in my golf exercise yesterday at the brand new Midnight Sun Driving Range, Inuvik's newest attraction for locals and tourists alike. Barely 3 weeks old, the range is located at the old intown landing strip. The manager is a rambunctuos 12-year-old named R.J., who was invited by an older friend to help bring the world's greatest sport to the western Arctic.

Of course, given the youth and location of the range, the facilities are, well, a litle rustic. The five plastic tee boxes face down a 1,500-ft barren straightaway. Nets on both sides protect the inevitable hooks and slices from landing in the river. The lone target is a pin located approximately 200 yards away, with a plastic bag for a flag.

Some of the clientele are reminiscent of a country club executive's worst nightmare. A couple of teenagers arrived just as we were leaving the first time and proceded to bash and hack one range ball after another. (We later learned that they then turned 90 degrees and proceeded to launch balls into the water, despite R.J.'s urgings to stop.)

But what the Midnight Sun Driving Range lacks in amenities, it makes up in spirit. R.J. is quite the host, eager to tell you all about life in Inuvik, and learn about his American guests, who seemed more civilized and friendly than some of the more familiar locals. (We learned that the kids in Ft. McPhrson are pretty tough (he got into two fights while there on a school trip awhile back). There are also big plans for the range; they plan to turn the old runway into the local golf mecca by buying the existing mini-golf course and moving it to the other end of the runway. R.J. says it's not very well run now and at $20 a pop to play, I can see why.

R.J. and Philip certainly hit it off. R.J. invited Phil to help pick up the errant golf balls from previous users. By the end of the evening (midnight), Phil was cranking them high and straight (even with a club that was waay to long for him), and musing about working at a driving range.

Oh, how did I do? Well, at our first session before dinner, I was hitting them fairly well. When we returned for a second bucket later on, my shots were less than perfect, something that is easily attributable to the unfamiliar clubs, my worn-out glove, the mosquitos, the sun in my eyes at 11:30 pm, the magnetic fields, and other causes that I can't even imagine. But by the end of the evening, I was relieved to be hitting 'em at least decently enough to show my face at Jefferson District again. Scott, Phil, and I then helped R.J. and his sister gather up the day's practice balls, chatted with his friend in the clubhouse, and left with best wishes for the future of the Midnight Sun Driving Range. If you're ever up this way, stop by and hit a bucket. Just ask for R.J.

This morning, everybody is busily packing up for today's air and ground exodus from Inuvik. If all goes as planned, Martha and Philip will take off at 3:55, while Scott and I hit that long lonesome highway. We'll stop by Ft. McPherson and pick up our gear from the Davidsons, then see how far down the road we can get. There are a couple of Territorial Parks along the way, though it may be possible to reach Eagle Plains before dark. We want to be very careful about when and how we drive this road. The Rover seems to be in good shape, but one must never assume, especially when it concerns the Dempster Highway.