The nerve-racking wet ride down a frigid river
Exploring native land and deep dark lush forests
The mosquitoes biting and paddling with sore wrists
To find this opening, relaxing in cover

Pitching the rigid tent, collecting firewood
Starting the red-hot flames to dry the wet clothing
Gathering a small meal to the stomach's loathing
Appearing are the stars, to the parka's dark hood

Feeling the frozen air on the bit of the nose
Seeing the fire out, and the canoe racing
Panicking and praying, serious challenge facing

Surviving will be hard, with the movements froze
Knowledge to relatives, planning was not given
Miracles do happen, and mistakes forgiven