It's Thursday, July the 27th, 2017.

Deep in the backwards of Central Canada, a Hayes River is a 300 mile long waterway that runs through northern Manitoba.

It meanders through a vast tract of densely forested wilderness,

180,000 square miles of ungoverned backcountry, roamed by bears, wolves, and herds of

caribou.

The only feasible way through this rugged inhospitable terrain is by river.

Historically, the haze was an important trading route for fur trappers.

Now, the only boats that travel along it are those of trout

fishermen and the occasional intrepid canoeer. Adventure's souls like German tourists

Wolf Wagner and his friend Johannes Hunch.

As they paddle downstream in their boat,

Wolf and Johannes stare straight ahead.

Their movements are slow and mechanical.

Their eyes dimly register the scenery,

the pine trees, the marsh grass, the blue sky.

It's the exact same backdrop they've been staring at for eight exhausting days.

Here, always the same landscape, just a couple of trees, a bit of grass. It was so hot. You always had the sun shining from above, blue sky sky nearly no clouds not a lot of wind and if there was

wind it was against us. This trip was meant to be fun, but is turning into a slog.

How much more monotony can they take?

But then a distant sound breaks the quiet and the stillness, a low ominous drone.

And as they get nearer, it grows into a roar.

It sounds like a jumbo jet flying low over the river, but as they float closer,

...