The Ingenuity Gap by Thomas Homer-Dixon : First Page Chapter 8
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EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
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It was a glorious, sunny day in mid August as we unloaded our gear from the floatplane at the water's edge of friend and I heaped our tent packs, fishing rods and all the other paraphernalia of modern camping. We've flown to an isolated lake a few kilometers in land from one of the most rugged parts of Canada's Pacific coast as we plan to hike to the coast and camp for several days by the sea. The unloading finished. We said goodbye to the pilot. He started the engine and revved it to a howl, turning the plane away from the shore to make a run down the lakes. Full length. We watched the plane lift off the water at the far end, shrink to a dot and vanished beside the mountains, rimming the lake. Then there was complete silence. We were thrilled to be starting our holiday, but our plans quickly unraveled. The trail that was supposed to take us to the coast was nowhere to be found. The creek out of the lake was impassable, choked with fallen trees and debris, and the shoreline where we had heaped her gear was surrounded on all sides by a band of virgin West Coast rainforest. Ah, profuse and chaotic tangle of for cedar, hemlock, rotting windfalls and exuberant underbrush. Beyond this force was a wide expanse of land logged 20 years before that had naturally regrown with alder and dense brush, it formed an Impenetrable wall of vegetation 6 m high.