“Alone in the Wilderness,” the documentary about Alaskan naturalist Richard “Dick” Proenneke (pronounced prin-uh-key) is one of the most remarkable films ever made, in my estimation.
Yes, I know that’s an ambitious statement, but I stand by it. I can’t think of another movie or TV production that can exhilarate me, fascinate me, and make me feel like a sorry sack of poo all at the same time.
Have you seen this documentary? PBS often plays it during their fund-raising drives. I first saw it about six years ago.
Let me back up and give you a little context. When he retired at age 51 in 1968, Proenneke was a WWII vet, an expert outdoorsman, and a sought-after diesel mechanic in the more tamed areas of Alaska. That year, he decided to put his skills to the test by moving to a remote area of the state called Twin Lakes, building himself a log cabin, a living alone for a solid 12 months. Among his many talents, Proenneke was also a skilled photographer, and he recorded many of his activities that year using a film camera mounted on a tripod. These films, along with his extensive and eloquent journal writings, would later become the aforementioned documentary.
The movie is hypnotic. Most of the film has that soft, over-saturated, slightly sped up Super-8 look. It was shot without sound, but sound affects were very skillfully added, so much so that I believe they’re real when I know they’re not. One of Proenneke’s friends narrates it in the first-person. Again, I know it’s not Proenneke’s voice, but I believe it is anyway.
But the thing that has me glued to my seat every time I watch “Alone in the Wilderness” is the absurd, over-the-top competence of the man. He decides to build himself a cabin in the wilderness and, by God, that’s what he does.
But he does this not with a pickup truck full of power tools from The Home Depot. He uses hand tools, many of which he fashions himself. Let me repeat that: He uses handmade tools to build other handmade tools. He is limited only by his imagination. The door hinges, furniture, chimney and fireplace, moss roof, bowls, spoons, pots and pans… All of this, he makes himself!
I’m not talking about the completely off-kilter, ugly, unusable, out-of-balance, leaking, ineffective, kind of thing that I would make. (And that just describes the store-bought curtain rod I tried to hang this weekend.) I’m talking about a cabin that Honest Abe himself would’ve admired. I’m talking about wooden spoons that look like they just came from a Williams Sonoma store.
Proenneke never even appears the least bit winded in the film. As we watch, he notches out 12′ spruce logs and rolls them perfectly into place before squatting on a high slope to pick a bucket full of wild blueberries for his buttermilk pancakes. There’s no sweat pouring down his face. No wild cursing and throwing the hatchet into the weeds as he realizes he cut a log too short. No kneeling on bruised knees among an explosion of parts and pieces of some pressboard piece of junk from Target as he stares desperately at tiny, unintelligible English instructions written by some Korean guy sleeping peacefully on the other side of the planet. No further cursing when he gets to the end of the entertainment center only to realize he mounted the door upside down and now that little magnet thing won’t connect with the other magnet thing to make the door close.
As opposed to the author of this blog, Proenneke did none of that. What he did was to simply live out the fantasy of every modern man who wishes he could be That Guy, the one who could live off the land and build things without messing them up.
More rare than his physical skills were his emotionally ones, because his solitary year turned into 30. He lived alone, happily by all accounts, for three decades. Due to health problems, he left his by-then-famous cabin at age 81 — having lived all those years with only occasional visits from close friends — and moved to California until his death a few years later. Humans are, as we all know, social creatures, and most of us require the company of others. Proenneke, though, was perfectly content with the company of nature, his journals, and himself.
The question is, did he miss out on life? Did he die a lesser man because he didn’t choose to have electricity, indoor plumbing, a Nintendo Switch, or an iPhone X? Did he miss out because his trash wasn’t picked up every Thursday at his curb, or because he couldn’t run around the corner and grab a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos at Kroger?
I don’t think so. I think he lived his time on this Earth entirely on his own terms and in respect of Mother Nature and in fear of Almighty God. And while the lack of human companionship would be unthinkable to most of us, I don’t think he missed it at all.
And when I get to Heaven someday, I intend to sit down with Richard Proenekke on the front step of that cabin and have a good, long talk about it.
Here’s part of the documentary. Do yourself a favor and watch it.
Lest you think only men are inspired and terrified and fascinated by Dick Proenneke, let me assure you that you are wrong. While I know I couldn’t survive even a weekend out there – and have no interest in you trying that, either! – I love watching this documentary. Half the time I don’t believe it’s real, even though I know it is. What an incredible man. And he’s so small in stature yet can do so much physically demanding work. It’s amazing. Thanks for writing about him, honey, and bringing his story to the eyes of those who may not have heard of him.
This commenter is allowed to call me “honey” because she happens to be my wife. 🙂
Fascinating story, Mark. I just watched a few snippets on YouTube and I am beyond words. His craftsmanship is amazing, not to mention his determination, will, patience, and his confidence. You pick your topics and your characters very skillfully…thank you for introducing me to Dick Proenneke. Will it inspire me…? Yes. Will I go out and do great things after having been introduced to his story…? Of course not…unfortunately. Like most humans, I’ve been spoiled with modern conveniences and technologies…and pre-packaged instructions and diagrams showing me “the way”…whether it be my GPS or how to assemble a Radio-Flyer red wagon, or install an upside down cabinet door 🙂 (been there, done that!). I already sent links to my “outdoorsy” brother who I know will enjoy learning from Mr. Proenneke. Thanks again Mark for yet another gripping leap behind the eyes of an amazing individual.
Hey, Doug! Thanks for the thoughtful comment, as always.
Here is the way I responded to this story the first time I saw it and after I read the book (which I failed to mention in the blog): I haven’t felt the need to go out and become a survivalist or an expert craftsman, although he does inspire me to at least try to be a little handier around the house.
This is rather specific, but I also love how he narrowed his diet down to the bare (bear) essentials. (You’ll have to see this part in the film or read it in the book.) He said that grizzly bears prove that a large animal can thrive on a very simple diet, and he would only take enough food from the land to satisfy his immediate hunger — nothing more — though nobody would’ve ever known otherwise. (The definition of character…)
But to me, his philosophy towards life and nature is the biggest thing. He proved that a large part of a man’s life can be about his personal relationship with God and with trying to spend his time on Earth in the most meaningful ways possible. I guess in some ways, Proenneke was a monk of sorts. His goal was to remove the distractions and unnecessary parts of life in favor of the things that matter most.
Now, could I live this way? No chance. But he does make me realize that much of my daily existence is concerned with frivolous things. That’s why it’s good to watch this program every so often, and to read books like “Unbroken.” We can’t have enough reminders that life should be about more than making money and having stuff.
Here’s the book info. Go forth and prosper!
http://www.amazon.com/One-Mans-Wilderness-Alaskan-Odyssey/dp/0882405136/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1357707547&sr=8-2&keywords=alone+in+the+wilderness
This guy is really fascinating….
Every good Canadian lad has seen and/or read of DP’s exploits, too. Paul Bunyan like stature, Johnny Appleseed approach, it’s bound to resonate and encourage folks into modern day bushcraft.
Well written, Mark- I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Thanks for the comment, Tyler. Johnny Appleseed approach… I like that! And I’m glad you liked the post, too!
I just recently watched this on youtube and I was really fascinated about his work. I come from a tropical country and I would love to experience living in a cold serene place like alaska. Really brilliant ^_^
Ramir, thanks so much for the comment and sorry it took so long to respond! I bet a lot of people who live in cold serene places like Alaska might want to try living in a tropical place like yours! But I, too, am fascinated by Dick’s story. Thanks for visiting and commenting!
Mark
I have just recently found the youtube posts on Dick Proenneke. A remarkable man who did 70 chin-ups on his 70th birthday, and who wrote that in winter when his fire was blazing his cabin was a “toasty 48 degrees”.
Dick was tough. He had that toughness and self sufficient streak which many of the older generation seemed to have. Not so sure about his attitude to God. Seem to remember reading a conversation he had with Babe Alsworth in which he said he would try to find Heaven here, and if there was another one later good and well.
I have ordered the two “Alone–” dvd’s from Amazon. Awaiting delivery, but since ordering have discovered that they are encoded for USA and Canada only.
Thanks for the comment, Eamon! Good observations, all. Yeah, I noticed the “48 degrees” comment, too. I’m assuming you don’t live in either the U.S. or Canada, no? Where are you?
One of my favorite quotes of his was something like “One wrong step and a man would have to answer to god right there on the mountain.” I think this quote is a great example of the utmost respect he had for both the creator and his creation.
Yes, I love that quote! I agree with your thought about it, too. Thanks for commenting, Joel!
I own the documentary and am especially fond of the thoughts of cabin building and self sufficiency. DP is no doubt one do my life-long heroes!
Mine, too, Don. DP rocks!
Love the movie and have watched it many times.