“Hey, we’re in Circle 151 miles in,” Mingo tells me. “We have a problem. I pulled a shoulder.”

The connection was bad and we got cut off before he had time to give me any real details about his shoulder. All I really know is he can still move it but there’s no power behind it. Oh, and he caught up with the German kayakers – three of them one of whom is named Ulley, a police officer from Munich.

Still hoping he will call back tonight. Damn sat phone. Will let everyone know when I get an update.

“Hey. I’m 110 miles in at Slaven’s Roadhouse in Yukon Charley. Yesterday was fun. Today was much more difficult. I’m definitely on the sore side,” Mingo tells me. “It poured for the first 3 hours. All you can do is sit in the boat, put your head down and paddle. The headwind was bad.”

“The hydraulics of this river are really weird. There is so much debris floating in it. You’ll come across these little eddies that push the boat four or five feet to one side. It’s a good thing I’ve got a long boat. Helps to keep me a little more steady,” Mingo continues. He sounds tired but fascinated with the Yukon’s personality, especially right now when she’s so full of water and debris. “There’s all kinds of stuff slapping the underside, debris getting knocked into the boat. It’s a pretty interesting river to kayak.”

“What is Slaven’s Roadhouse,” I ask.

“It’s an old cabin from the gold mining era that’s now been made into a public use area,” he tells me. “I’m going to take some pictures around here, write in my journal and head to bed. I’m getting ready to take some naproxen. I’m pretty sore.”

“I’m glad I got 60 miles in today. In 2½ days I should be in Yukon Flats.” We quickly say our goodbyes then hang up so he can get done what he needs to then go to sleep. Exhilarating but exhausting. Sounds Mingo’s type of day on the water.

I reach for the phone on the first ring. There is crackling then silence. A few minutes later it rings again – same thing. The third time I say hello and hear “Um, Houston, we have a problem.” Then silence.

I quick redial the sat phone number but only get the stupid voicemail prompt. I’m hoping that his quip was an attempt at humor about the crappy sat phone connection and not an indication that something was really wrong. His voice sounded fine, no stress but then again I only heard it for two seconds. I wait for the phone to ring again.

And continue to wait…

Finally, the phone rings again. I pick it up for the fifth or sixth time and hear a garbled “Hello.” A second of silence passes then another “Hello” this time much more clear. Finally, we have a good sat phone connection.

“I paddled 50 miles today and am in Nation, a little ranger’s cabin in Yukon Charley,” Mingo quickly tells me. “I’m staying here tonight.” He sounds excited, much of the anxiousness of yesterday having disappeared from his voice. (So yes, the Houston comment was humor!)

“I didn’t start out until around 9am this morning. Pretty hard six hour day. I could use a good rub-down but I don’t think anyone is going to come up here and do that,” he chuckles. “Got hit by a thunderstorm. Lots of lightening. I had to come ashore until it was over,” he continues.

He asks how things are going back here. There’s not much to relay especially compared to his exciting day. We quickly wrap up conversation. Time is of the essence now. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow night and let you know how far I got,” he says.

As I hang up the phone I think of a variety of other things to ask him. How was the paddle? How is the river? Did he see any animals? I was so wrapped up in just finding out he was OK that I completely spaced on asking him anything of importance. Oh, and I need to tell him not to start out the conversation with the “Houston we’ve got a problem” phrase unless it’s true. Gets a girl all worried!