Darrell Greer
Northern News Services

NNSL (Aug 21/98) - Marc Provost stands on a ridge by the Jackfish power plant observing the Yellowknife skyline.

Although the temperature sits at 22 C, a thin, black bandanna veils his facial features from the bridge of his nose down to his neck.

He takes a drag from his cigarette and looks me up and down, almost waiting for some sort of predetermined reaction.

"I really didn't want to do this," he says, his stare never wavering from my eyes.

"But, the people in the territories have been good to me, for the most part, so I figured, why not?"

The afternoon we meet is but two days short of the anniversary of the event which, 12 years ago, forever changed Provost's life.

He had been out boating on Alberta's Pakowki Lake with three of his friends when disaster struck.

The Coleman stove they had been using suddenly burst into flames and Provost jumped forward to try and turn off its bright red tank.

"I was trying to get the tank off the stove, you know, when suddenly there was this bright flash and ungodly pain," recounts Provost.

"I found out later my best friend had thrown what he thought was a pail of water on the flames. Turns out, it was leftover kerosene."

Provost has undergone numerous painful surgical procedures to try and improve his appearance, but, he says, the phycological pain has been every bit as deep as the physical.

"You never really get used to the stares," he says. "You learn to ignore them, somewhat, but you never really get used to them.

"My six-month stay in Calgary for treatment about five years ago was the worst. I never left my room if I didn't have to."

Provost says while he has come to accept what has happened to him, he still has his share of painful memories.

"My worst memory is from a laundromat. A woman was shooing her kids away from me and trying to hustle them out the door with her laundry still in the washer.

"It was as if my features were contagious."

Provost started learning about the wilderness seven years ago and made his first visit through the Yukon and the Northwest Territories in 1995.

This is his third trip back since then and his love for the Northern way of life has been steadily growing.

"There are obvious reasons, you know, I like just being by myself a lot," he says.

"But, really, I've found the people here to be different.

"Maybe I've just been lucky during my trips here, but the people I've had to deal with seem more genuinely impressed with me then how I look. And there's also the natural beauty of the place."

Provost says he's not sure if he'll ever move permanently to the North, citing family and medical concerns and advances as reasons for staying in the south, but is already looking forward to his next trip.

"You never really give up hope," he says. "The medical advances of the past decade alone have been staggering.

"We're already looking at doing some winter camping, you know, surviving in the wilderness type of thing next year, and I'm really looking forward to that."

Now 39, Provost wouldn't reveal his means of financial support, but his answer revealed a lot about the true spirit of the man hidden within by his scarred flesh.

"Let me put it this way," he says with a grin, "when you look like I do, you bring a whole new meaning to behind the scenes contributor and silent partner.

"But, maybe some day, you know. Maybe some day."