An Adventure Trip Marriage of Convenience

I pride myself on my organizational skills. It's essential to the smooth operation of any adventure trip. Unfortunately, in an effort not to disappoint Claire who wanted to join our Yukon River canoe trip to Dawson City last minute, I allowed my chivalrous side to override my better instinct.

With a full compliment of guides and clients, there was only sufficient room in our passenger van to handle 15 people. Our last minute addition would create the need to find an alternative means of getting her back from Dawson City to Whitehorse. My mantra has always been - no sweat! We would get into Dawson on a Saturday and I would take the bus or scheduled flight back to Whitehorse on Monday (our regular scheduled return) with our female client, while the rest would return by van.

Upon arrival in Dawson City, I had my assistant see to getting our clients to our accommodation while I set out to book passage for myself and Claire back to Whitehorse. I went to the local tourist bureau to get their assistance in booking a seat on the bus. "Hadn't you heard?", said the tourist agent, "the bus no longer operates, as there was insufficient traffic to make it a go." No sweat!

I headed over to the internet cafe to book a flight with Air North. There were no flights scheduled for that Sunday or Monday from Dawson - sweat!

No need to panic yet, but the button was close by in the event I needed to.

I noted that Holland-America had busloads of people arrive daily in Dawson from cruise ships that docked in Skagway, Alaska. And, their buses were not always full. Surely they wouldn't object to some additional income. Problem solved!

I walked into their coordinating centre in Dawson. It was abuzz with activity. I picked out the most friendly looking face behind the counter and approached her. I turned on some of that Len charm that had seen me through some tight situations with hotel clerks, government bureaucrats, police officers, and the like. I drew up my most charismatic smile and asked if it would be possible to have two people join a bus back to Whitehorse. Apologetically, the clerk said that it was company policy not to open up space on buses to people who were not part of the beginning tour with Holland-America. Ever? Ever. Hmmm! Time for the panic button to be pushed!

Over the years, I found that panic was the key that opened up the creative wing in my brain. I hung my head and gave a sigh. What would I tell my new "wife"? We were on our honeymoon and had just completed the Yukon River. I had promised her the best time in Dawson City. We would not be able to make our return flight home from Whitehorse. Yes, I should have planned better but the euphoria of the marriage and honeymoon had taken precedence over diligence. I was at my best, occasionally looking up to see with what effect the shaky voice and saddened look was having. Although the clerk's voice softened in response to my sad tale, her resolve was stoic. She was not permitted to make exceptions. Defeated, I thanked her and turned to exit. It was then that the supervisor, who had overheard my love story and predicament, called out from her office to have me shown in. The clerk and I entered the office. The supervisor decided that circumstances would allow her to make an exception. I was elated. I offered to pay for the passage but she would have none of that. Accept passage and a free meal voucher as her honeymoon gift to me and my new "wife".

I rationalized away the fact that I had used subterfuge to take advantage of a huge corporate giant. It is the only way that my conscience would allow me to relish this victory. Part two of the plan would require my convincing Claire to play along.

Actually, that was much easier than I anticipated. She accepted the situation, but would not be party to any of the storytelling that might be necessary. I convinced her that I would handle all that. She would just have to maintain the look of a contented new "wife".

After a wonderful weekend with our group in Dawson, we headed over to the Holland-America hotel to enjoy our vouchered breakfast and meet our bus and traveling companions back to Whitehorse. Claire was nervous. I was excited. We boarded the bus and made for the back. I was sure to place Claire next to the window, leaving me in a position to field questions, if there were any. The tour looked us over curiously. They had been together for a couple of weeks and were puzzled by our presence. The tour guide grabbed the microphone and explained to the group that we were newlyweds and why we were joining the group.

What wonderful people! Cheers and applause accompanied the announcement, followed by a rousing chorus of "For they're two jolly good fellows....." .

During our five hour bus trip to Whitehorse, individuals would come back to where we were sitting and offer their individual congratulations. Claire accepted with a sheepish smile, while I just ate it up. I participated in a number of bus games, even winning one or two of them. Claire feigned tiredness and either slept or enjoyed the passing scenery.

The tour guide came back to us and wondered if we would recount how we came together and got married. Knowing that Claire would not, I said I would be more than pleased to come forward in the bus and relate the story of our meeting, developing love, and eventual marriage. I had to rely on my ability to create and embellish stories quickly. I wasn't sure what would come out of my mouth, but I was confident it would be interesting. I told them that I had met Claire when I was leading a group of hikers on the Chilkoot Trail the previous year. Claire was hiking alone and had sprained her ankle on the third day. Our group came along and stopped, while I used my wilderness first aid to attend to her injury. She could not be convinced to end her trek so I offered to carry her pack, and mine, while she joined our group for companionship and attention. I made sure that I erected her tent at campsites, tucked her in, and brought her meals while she rested. We walked and talked together on the trail, finding that we had much in common. After the trip, we stayed in touch. Claire lived in Ottawa and I in Vancouver. We made a point of seeing each other at least once a month. As Claire's love for me had no bounds, she agreed to move to Vancouver to be with me. Within the year we were married and on our honeymoon.

The love story resonated. The tour sat transfixed, listening to each word of a great love story. Occasional "ahs!" punctuated the performance. I caught Claire's eyes from time to time. If rolling your eyes is a form of compliment, then I was most blessed. Applause and pats on the back accompanied my return to my seat. Claire just shook her head. I was most pleased with myself.

When we returned to Whitehorse, we were asked by the group to join them for dinner. I felt that, by that time, I had expended any remaining capital with Claire's patience. I declined, stating that we would return to our hotel room and rest up for our flight home the next day.

Claire and I went our separate ways the next day. "Love" is so fleeting. Occasionally we do make contact by email to see how we are each handling the "divorce".