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August 3

Roland, Linda, Kevin and Lizzie take off on Cape Smythe Air at close to 10:30 a.m. Our flight (originally scheduled for 2:05 p.m., changed to 11 a.m., then moved to 2:30 p.m.) is now due in at 4:15. Dave, Mary and I wander the village for a short time; we call Frontier Airlines again, and now our flight leaves at 2:50. The three of us head to the boat for one last spin on the river. This time we head downriver.

It is a joyous last attempt to hold onto the river. The three of us have hit it off so well; it was most appropriate to have this last moment together. We relived a few of our moments and laughed while we were creating this new one.

Arriving at the runway, we learn from the Frontier agent that our flight is now due at 3:30. Four o’clock and we see a plane approaching through the growing mist. It’s the plane for the freight. Once it lands, pickups materialize and get their respective cargo; we then load ours onto the plane. Five-thirty now, and still no plane. The agent can’t tell us if the plane is even coming; we are now thinking we may have another two days here, as the next flight isn’t until Wednesday. Two hours of intermittent drizzle has started to wear thin.

Dave informs me that the nickname for Nuiqsut is "No Exit."

Six-thirty and finally the plane arrives. The pilot says some weather south of us almost made him scrub the flight. Almost as soon as the door opened, out popped four people on a tour, with camcorders in full motion. One of them asked me where they were. I responded with "Nuiqsut," but thought about telling them they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

All I could do was smile at their bewilderment, say goodbye to Dave and board the plane. As the plane took off, one of them asked me about why this village is here: I told him what I knew, that Nuiqsut was formed 25 years ago because the state was attempting to set up the North Slope borough, and that to qualify as a borough there had to be six population centers. So Nuiqsuit was formed when a group of people left Barrow and moved here. On Aug. 13 this year, the village celebrates its 25th anniversary. I didn’t mention that as villages go, this one is considered to be pretty rough.

As the plane rises, the clouds break just enough for me to see the Colville River one last time. I feel a strange set of emotions. I have a lot ahead of me as I sort out the memories of the trip. In some ways this place met my expectations, but in others, it went so far beyond them, I find it numbing and unsettling.

The clouds close in and the river is gone. But when I close my eyes to sleep, the image still lives in my mind.

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