back from the rack

well... the dreams were a farse. thank god. i couldn't have lived with myself if i were dead. the fuel thing was a drag, and the low end was a wee bit lacking, but all in all... we made it back from the rack.

we lost ben. poor old bugger. he's somewhere up on the mountain in sub-zero temperatures. the wind alone could kill him.

we were incommunicado for about an hour until i finally chirped his CRM-114 and got through.

"bravo juliet, bravo juliet, this is lima hotel, over."
"lima hotel, lima hotel, this is bravo juliet... go ahead."
"bravo juliet, proceed to pick-up point asap. you're about 8 mikes distant. go to the base of the mountain, take a right, and look for camp on left, it's about 8 mikes away. i say again. go to the base of the mountain, take a right, and look for camp on left, it's about 8 mikes away. over"
"lima hotel, this is bravo juliet. i copy. see you in a few minutes. over"
"bravo juliet, this is lima hotel. roger that. look for number 10. we are awaiting your arrival. over"
"lima hotel, this is bravo juliet. roger. number 10. out"

and that's how it went down that night up on the 45th parallel.