Gumbo survives wilderness

July 17, 2007

By J.J. Harrier/Frontiersman

WASILLA - July 3 was just another day for Amy Bunker and her dog, Gumbo.

On Independence Day eve, Bunker headed up into Hatcher's Pass with her boyfriend and two friends for a holiday camping trip. Along for the ride were her two faithful canines, Chevez and Gumbo. All were looking for a little escape from the daily grind. As a professional trail guide, Bunker is no stranger to the rocky and wooded areas of the Matanuska-Susitna Valley.

This was home.

After a long day hike, the weather continued to bring in damp skies so the team decided to take a break from its trek up Cragie Creek Trail and set up camp. It was time for dinner and to get a fire started. Bunker's dogs played near the camp as they all enjoyed the solitude of nature's wonders.

Around midnight July 4, Bunker crawled into her tent and called it a day - but the night was just beginning.

During the late hours of the evening, a group of local teens had made its way up to their camp site to light off fireworks. At 4 a.m., Bunker and her friends awoke to the sound of explosions and yelling. Immediately, Chevez was startled by the mortar and jumped right onto their tent, causing it to collapse. When Bunker could finally get to the opening of the tent Chevez was standing outside, barking loudly and shaken by the chaos. As she and her friends calmed the upset dog, Bunker looked around for Gumbo, but there was no sign of him. Bunker began running around the camp site calling her dog's name, with no response. He had taken off.

The group continued to search the immediate areas around camp for the next two hours before nodding off for a few more hours in the damp tent. Gumbo would be back in the morning, Bunker thought.

When morning came, she again searched, but no Gumbo. It was becoming clear he was nowhere to be found. Bunker and her friends spent the day scouring the mountainous area searching for any signs of her faithful friend. As it grew dark, no one wanted to admit it, but Bunker knew it was time to pack up and head back. Her heart dropped. Her 8-year-old buddy was lost and couldn't be found. He had been lost before but had always managed to surface. Bunker knew her border collie has a keen sense of smell and direction, always aware of his surroundings and started worrying that because he hadn't returned to camp, Gumbo must be in trouble.

Did he fall into a mine shaft? Did a bear get him?

Arriving home, she immediately contacted her friend David Reese, Gumbo's part owner who works at the Mother Lode, and together they called up to the Lucky Shot Mine on Hatcher's Pass. They left a message with the front desk attendant to please keep a lookout for her dog. It was all she could do at the time.

The next morning, Bunker and her boss at the Reindeer Farm returned to Hatcher's Pass, this time in her four-wheeler to look for Gumbo in the cold rain up by Willow Creek, calling his name and whistling her familiar whistle.

Again, no signs of Gumbo.

&#8220Gumbo is very loyal and comes when called, so I didn't understand what was going on,” she said. After several hours, they left defeated.

Six long days went by and Bunker said she could barely sleep or function. Her other dog, Chevez, couldn't sleep either. His little brother wasn't around and he sensed it.

&#8220We both were so depressed,” Bunker said. &#8220I was starting to miss this huge part of my life and it was sinking in that I had really lost him.”

Gumbo was gone and was not coming home.

To make matters worse, Gumbo was without his thyroid medication and his owner knew the pooch would be exhausted without it. At 8 years old, Gumbo wasn't a puppy anymore. His sense of direction could be off, and he could be tired and hungry. It was too much for Bunker to think about.

Then on the afternoon of July 10, Bunker arrived at her yoga class early and spread out her mat to begin her workout routine. With time to spare, she headed to her car to check messages on her cell phone. There was a message from someone at the Lucky Shot Mine instructing her to call back and to head up to the mine. A dog resembling Gumbo had been found alive.

Bunker anxiously called back and announced she would be right there.

The mood on top of Hatcher's was buzzing. Lucky Shot miners had taken their helicopter out during the day to sling materials into mining areas. On this morning, the pilot spotted a white object moving below and radioed back. Three miners attempted to get the dog into the helicopter, but to no avail. Gumbo was not about to get near the noisy helicopter and after many attempts to retrieve him, miners decided to try another tactic. Marie Azevedo, Lucky Shot's head cook and housekeeper, was asked to ride along because they felt she could bring a much needed feminine familiarity to the situation. Gumbo was weary of men and used to the soft spoken commands of his owner.

While the men hid in the trees, Azevedo called to Gumbo, and he came slowly to a food bowl and beef jerky she held out for him. Azevedo gently placed a leash over his neck and got him on the four-wheeler. He slept the way back.

The reunion was too much for Bunker. She embraced Gumbo for &#8220what seemed like forever,” she said. Her dog was thinker and exhausted, but he was home and he was safe.

&#8220I am just so grateful for what those guys did up there,” Bunker said. &#8220They are good, generous people and am very glad to have my dog home.”

Gumbo is an adamant ball player, snowboarder and river jumper. He enjoys picking up rocks bigger than his head and getting into mischief.