The Baddest Bad-ass Ever

Albert Johnson:

Life in the frigid temperatures and untamed wilderness of Canada’s Northwest Territories, especially in the 1930s – a time when things like “propane heating” and “not getting eaten by bears” were unheard-of luxuries – was pretty much a miserable experience for anyone who didn’t enjoy freezing their nuts off and/or being forcibly kicked in the abdomen by a bunch of angry moose. Survival in this hostile, almost-inhabitable environment was far from guaranteed, making the foolhardy venture of frontier life one that was generally only undertaken by those who possessed an iron will, a hardy constitution, a modest arsenal of kill-crazy weapons, and a tenuous grip on their own sanity. Unfortunately for the officers of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the man known only as Albert Johnson, the infamous “Mad Trapper of Rat River” possessed all of these things and more.

Albert moved to the Northwest Territories for some strange reason in July of 1931, and immediately went to work being a total jackass and pissing everyone off with his crazy antics. Living by himself in a log cabin he probably built out of wood he harvested with little more than a series of devastating karate chops and operating a small series of traps on the Rat River, he lived the lonely life of an eccentric badass frontier mountain man – hunting for food, selling animal pelts, fucking with the natives, and generally rocking out like a Depression-Era Unabomber.

Well, one day the local Inuit tribe filed a formal complaint with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, claiming that some local nut was jerking around with their strategically-placed animal traps, so the Mounties decided to pay Big Al a little visit. On December 26, 1931, two RCMP officers traveled roughly 80 miles by dogsled (a two-day journey in temperatures that hovered between negative-40 and negative-50 degrees) out to the middle of goddamned ass-nowhere to ask Mr. Johnson a few harmless questions about why he was being such a jackoff to the Indians. After banging on his door for a half-hour with no response, the Mounties decided that they didn’t basically travel half of a fucking Iditarod just to go home empty-handed, and opted to kick down the door and bust their way inside Albert’s log cabin. This proved to be a tactical error. Mr. Johnson politely declined comment to the nice officer by putting two bullets through the door and wounding one of them. The cops got pissed opened fire on Johnson’s cabin, but he had strategically drilled gun ports through the walls of the cabin and successfully fought them off in a brief but decisive firefight.

I got this from Bad Ass of the Week there is no way I could improve on the author’s writing style. There is a lot more (including pictures) to this story if you follow the link.

Published in: on November 25, 2009 at 6:58 pm  Leave a Comment  
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