When I took over the CEO role at a gold exploration company, my first tasks were to establish some financial stability, and to provide the behind-the-scenes support for our first work program.
Eventually, with some money in the bank and a work plan underway, I headed north in the middle of a Yukon winter; a cold and dark experience. Driving from the remote camp at 40 below, my wonderful hubby (the infamous ‘Bill’, who was already at camp ahead of me) and I headed down the highway (ok… a dirt road in the Yukon is called a highway) towards the ice bridge to our destination. Up the mountain, then around to the other side of the mountain and the ice bridge, where our first drill rig pounded away night and day, looking for the source of the gold we found at the surface.
Rumor has it, the prospector found the gold when he crawled into a wee cave to catch a nap in the midst of a rainstorm. When he woke up, he opened his eyes to a wall of gold staring him in the face.
And here we were looking for the source.
Now back at camp, there was some concern about some strange lights in the sky with no explanation. Satellites maybe, but some people were convinced they were at worst, extra-terrestrial or at best, military. I should explain that when you are ‘at camp’ in the Yukon, you are in the middle of nowhere and the sky is pitch black from about 4 pm to 9 am; very, very dark. It’s quite beautiful with many nights providing a beautiful display of the northern lights. But other than the stars, moon, and northern light shows, it is pitch black.
Having not seen the strange lights, I did my best to calmly convince one of the crew to come out of the core shack (where one analyzes core from the drill rig), but he was firmly committed to spending the night there. He was not convinced he was safe out in the open with the strange lights in the sky. Instead, convinced that whatever was out there could potentially whisk him away.
Bill and I drove down the “highway” (haha… dirt road) and I shared the concerns back at camp. Bill and I got into the ‘do you believe’ part of the conversation. I was uncommitted.
As we drove toward the ice bridge, I was curious to find out where we were in relation to the project. Bill told me the drill was on the other side of the mountain and after about 10 miles down the road (sorry… highway) we would cross the river and the ice bridge and head up the mountain to the worksite and drill rig.
“Oh, I see there is someone else headed up the mountain” I said to Bill.
“Nope, all the drillers and geologists are on site.” Bill said, noting 11 PM is not a shift change time.
“Maybe I see the drill site all lit up?” I asked.
“No, you can’t see the work site from here, it’s on the other side of the mountain.”
“Strange,’” I said. “Right there, right in front of us…. I see the red lights of what I assume is a big rig truck braking up on the mountain and look, now the truck is coming back towards us. I see the headlights as if they are on the switchback I assume? Driving with the brights on, big rig, maybe another drill rig heading up?”
I pointed to the lights I spotted, and Bill stopped the truck as we watched the lights move out of sight as fast as they had arrived.
“Hmmm.”
“What?” I asked.
“There’s no mountain there. The mountain is over there” Bill pointed far to the left.
The next morning, after the evening visit to the drill rig, when the light of the day joined us, I drove back towards the ice bridge to see for myself.
There was no mountain there.
