Be Groovy - Or Else!

Days Walking - 15

We're getting a pretty late start today - equipment problems. We probably won't start walking till noon.

Robin asked many very good questions and they deserve answers! Here goes.

What does the group talk about?
There are times when we discuss Highbrow Issues, like morality, religion, ethics, politics, and the fate of the planet. I should probably relate some of those discussions, instead of just rambling daily about my random thoughts and wacko dreamings. Next time we talk about something Important, I'll take notes.

But largely, we talk about what people usually talk about, minus the routine. Your average bullsh*t. We're not talking about last night's episode of Sex in the City, or how the dog trashed the laundry room - again, or how our boss is an assh*le. All of that 'watercooler' stuff is not there. We talk about old movies, and try to quote as many lines as we can ("No Horsesh*t, Jack? No Horsesh*t.") we talk about our lives growing up, and what brought us to this point (though a lot of that was covered in the first few months. We trained together for months before starting the trip, so a lot of the 'getting to know you' sh*t took place a while ago. There was a blog for that period, but it has gone poof, hence this new blog.

We complain about the weather, the shortness of the days (the sun doesn't even rise very high before dipping back down, and noon doesn't look like noon. You're tapping your watch going - "It can't be noon, this thing is busted!"), equipment problems (something is always rubbing. And if it aint rubbing, it's pinching. And if it's not pinching... well you see where I'm going.) How we should have brought more pepper and less salt, etc.

A big topic is "When we reach civilization, I'm gonna..." It's almost like we're in prison or on a desert island. You get strong cravings for stuff you don't have. Me, I want those Orange Hostess Cupcakes. "Boy, when I get to a real town, I'm gonna have four orange cupcakes with two glasses of milk." I vow. So everyone has cravings. For food, snacks, tv shows, porn (not me), a warm bed, a rousing LAN party of Quake/Unreal (video games), chance to visit a church / temple / synagogue, the list is endless.

How would your trip be different without technology?
The trip would not be possible without technology. I wouldn't even consider it. Without GPS, emergency locator beacons, satellite phones and PC uplinks, rechargeable battery packs and crank dynamo's, there's just no way. We would die, and no one would ever find us.

So that covers the tech-necessities.

Things like iPods and GameBoys are nice, but in no way necessary. They just help distract us when we're resting. When I listen to my iPod as I walk, I have to keep the volume low, so I can hear verbal cues from the group - "I've fallen and I can't get up, I've fallen through the ice, a Polar Bear is eating my face", that sort of thing.) Books are heavy, so being able to listen to audiobooks on the iPod are a real weight-saver. There are 3 different religious books I'm listening to right now. They are each based on a different faith, and it's really interesting to compare the themes. Underlying them all is really a sense of order and purpose, and a 'Be Groovy and Things Will be Groovy' sensibility. But I digress. How unlike me. (is there a text-based smiley symbol for rolling eyes?)

What are you hoping to get from the trip?
Allow me to ramble as I answer this one...

The first one is unfun. Just skip down a few lines to Deep Breath and keep reading from there, k? My Mom vanished one day when I was six years old. She went out for groceries and never came back. The car was found in the grocery parking lot - trunk full of groceries, engine running, door unlocked, no sign of struggle. So yeah. Nothing was ever, found. No clue, no witness, no idea. Clearly, my mother is dead. But I'm still looking for her.

Deep Breath.

I hope and pray for an expanded appreciation for the planet, its vastness, and our place in it. I want to see free animals and unfenced trees and wild water, and mountains and canyons. When I'm done walking, I want to be able to look at a map and see not just lines and letters, but remember the smell of the ground exactly there. In that precise location. The earthy-ness of it. To rake my fingers through it and see the beetles scurry and the worms wormy and get it under my fingernails.

To smell the vitality of the earth, untouched by urban haze and carbon monoxide. If that means that a mud pot or geyser belches out sulfur, that's fine, I want to smell it. If a bat-filled cave smells of guano, I want to smell it. And I want to smell the caribou and the bison and the deer. And the fields of flowers. I want to sink to my knees, curl on my side and pass out in a field of poppies and dream dream dream of Nirvana.

I want to become a better writer.

I want to meet people, Earthlings all, working hard in their daily life, working the farm, the orchards, the mines, the bars and diners and rock climbers and white water rafters. I want to meet the Native folks with their ancient ways, boats and snowmobiles, humility and pride. I want to meet the hermit meditating in his hut, solving the mysteries of mysteries in the wilderness. I want to shake his hand and share his breath and ask him about his favorite jazz song.

How does the experience compare to expectations?
We're not making as much progress as I'd hoped. We planned for 10 miles a day, and usually do around 8. We're not lazy, the days are really short. Some of the drifts and deformed multi-year ice make the terrain a lot less flat than we expected, from examining the topo maps. So far, there's been no earthy soil for me to play in, or caribou to smell, or poppies to dream in. Since leaving Barrow, we've only bumped into one person. Happy, Mournful Sigh. And he was very very cool, so the 'interesting peeps encountered' box gets a 100% score. So far, there hasn't been a lot of stimuli, not much to write home about. The third day was largely like the fourth day, and et cetera. Once we work our way farther south, and the weather improves, and we reach the treeline, I'm sure things will get a lot more interesting.

What do you plan to do after the trip is over?
I really don't know what to expect. No idea. Maybe I'll find a village that I fall in love with somewhere in Central America, and join the Peace Corps and help the locals. Devote my life to teaching and tending. Maybe I'll fall into an ice crevasse tomorrow and die. Maybe a sexy Martial Arts instructor in Brazil will sweep me off my feet, and I'll settle down, raise kids, and teach interpretive dance. Maybe I'll catch the fever and join a diamond mine in Argentina, forsaking my Americano Fait and sifting for sparkly carbon bits. I'm sorry that I don't have a better answer. I'm not sorry that it's a big, frightening exciting unknown.

Do any of the Walkers write a blog?
Caeled (our IT guy) does, but he's frightfully private. It's not shared, it's one of those 'online-but-no-one-can-see-it' ones, which makes no sense to me. That's like putting a classified ad in the paper, but putting it in some weird code that no one can read. Why, Caeled? It's a social medium. S h a r e! I'll work on his resolve and see if I can get him to be a little more open with the world. Also, Church keeps a journal, of the old fashioned, pen and paper ilk. Spiral bound at the top, and she writes in the purplest of inks. I don't know if she ever plans to type it all up for the world to see. She enjoys her music player, but isn't much for technology beyond that.

Planning the trip -
Were the members chosen to get along and work well together?
The hardest part was finding people who were interested, truly interested in spending five years of their life away from their homes and families. After that, it became a weeding process looking for the right skillsets. We needed a survival expert, we needed a medical type, and a technology guy, and like that. Beyond that, the right people sort of chose themselves. And we get along because we're the type of people who would choose to do this. It's like Rocky Horror. If you show up, all in costume, and hang with all the other wonderful freaks in costume, you're likely to get along, because you're interested and willing to go to that place, to be silly and fun and just go with it.

Litany Webb, signing off

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A Lone Potty on the Plain

Days Walking - 14

We've taken today off!
1 day of rest in 7.
Neither my vassals nor cattles shall work this day.

I had another weird dream.
I think dreams will be in blue, from now on...
So in this dream, I had become separated from the group, and was walking alone. I was unbothered by this, for some reason. Anyway, I saw something squarish in the distance and began walking toward it (since man-made objects tend to stand out).

As I get closer, I realize that it's a porta-potty, like you see at construction sites. There's nothing else around it, no equipment or buildings. Just a lone potty on the plain. So I walk up to it, and -

"Hello?" I said.
No answer.

The little status disk sez "occupado", but I yank on the door anyway. It's latched from the inside, but if you've ever used one of these, you know they're not very secure. So I jiggle the doorhandle and after a few moments, it opens.

Unsuprisingly, there is a frozen dead guy inside.
His pants were around his ankles, and he was reading a Rolling Stone from June of 2002. (With Natalie Portman on the cover.)

The dead guy looked a lot like a brunette Paul Bettany.

Now here's the part I wasn't expecting.
Without preamble, I grabbed him by his tattered hat, - which was frozen to his head - and yanked him out of the potty, and onto the ground.

I then made thorough and ecstatic use of the facilities, and was very happy. What can I say, it was a dream.


I'm sorry to say that I spent all day playing video games. I could have waxing poetic, writing something inspired, but instead, I slept really really late, ate way too much food, and played video games.

There was a lot of Metroid: Zero Mission (A GameBoy Advance game) going down, and also some Mario Kart (GBA, again) vs Adrian. I smoked his ass, as per usual. Bring it!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Alien Visitors and Ice Fishing

Days Walking - 13

Hoo Nelly, Unlucky 13.
Nothing happened.

So yeah, it was a pretty uneventful day. I stowed my iPod and just listened to the wind and my walking peeps. Ugh. I'm so very ready for a real bed.

Feeling pretty blah today, sameness is setting in and feeling oh so familiar... Ummmm.

Alaskan AP Wire informs us: The Atka Island (of the Aleutian Island chain) volcano is acting up. There's supposed to be quite an ash cloud going on, but we can't see it from here. It's pretty damned far away, but still. Not that I want ash raining on my parade, but I wanted to see it, from my safe distance...

...Let me just check the actual distance, here wait a sec... Ah, it's over 1500 miles away. No wonder I didna feel the rumblin. Damn this is a big state. More than half a million square miles, biggest effing state of them all.

As for yesterday's 'Missing Caffeine' reference - oh, I can have it, I just didn't bring any. I'm a caffeine-aholic, and decided to abstain during the trip. It's not like I need to be energetic and alert for school or work. I wanted to have a pristine hiking experience, unblurred by the edgy irritation caffeine can bring. So I left it off my list of Stuff to Bring, and now I'm sorry.

- - In an email, someone asked about crossing frozen bodies of water. Yeah, it's technically dangerous. There are some steps you can take to check and see if it's safe. You poke it.

I know that Mommy taught you that poking is impolite and crass.
- But ah - the ice, she don't mind.

Sorright? Sorright!

So you jab with your spiked walking stick, an ice axe, etc. You're driving the poking device of choice into the ice to check for thickness. 2 inches thickness or more will hold one average person, and once you reach around 8 inches, you can drive cars around on the ice. People do it, and it looks freaky.

So when you reach the edge of the frozen water body in question, you hack, chop, or poke poke poke until you verify that you've got two inches or more. So you begin crossing, and check the thickness every so often as you go.

As we cross the ice, we make sure we're spaced about 20 feet apart, and we're connected to a partner with a 20 foot line. Keeping the line pretty taut reminds you that your distance is propah.

Depending on your region, you can't assume that because one area of the ice is solid, the rest of it is. There could be all sorts of factors that weaken the ice, up to and including a hydrothermal vent / hot spring. (Gee, is Alaska volcanically active? Ask the folks on Atka Isle). Gotta keep peepers peeled and stay sharp.

Also, when you fall in (gotta assume that it's gonna happen, for preparedness) drop your backpack immediately, the gear has got to go. If we were really really smart, we'd be wearing personal flotation devices. We're not that smart. But, all the air trapped in our insulated parka's will provide some buoyancy.

Getting tired of the arctic lecture? Me too, sorry to be a bore. I don't know about you, but I come here for sexy tidbits about Jake and Anneli. No new sexcapades to report, sorry. They have been much chattier though. Glad the friction is lessened.

I have to say, there was surprisingly little condemnation from you guys about my wicked, wicked watching of their secret macking. Hee hee, you guys are as bad as I am.

Tomorrow will be more exciting, I promise. Even if I have to concoct an alien invasion. - - "They came for the ice fishing, but stayed for Love." - - Yikes!

Sigh.
I'm supposed to ask if anyone misses Marina's Wacky Espanol Phrase of the Day. I've stopped posting them, cause I don't find them very funny, really. But she's positive that her fans are out there. If you guys want them back, speak up. You'd think she'd get her own blog, but noooo.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Heavy Petting and Pasta Primavera

Days Walking - 12

I woke up at 3:43AM to Anneli and Jake enjoying a session of snogging and heavy petting. (What happened to Caeled? I guess he decided to room with Adrian after I passed out...)

Here's how it went down: I was sleeping. I fell asleep about midnight, and Anneli and Caeled were already asleep. Or so they seemed.

Now, I'm a heavy sleeper, dead to the world usually, so I guess they thought they would escape detection. I opened my eyes, which were already adjusted to the dark, (having been staring at my eyelids for a few hours...how dull for them) - -

- - And what do I see, four inches from my nose, but Jake and Anneli having a heavy makeup makeout session. (They'd been fighting, the other day...) They were trying to be quiet, but it's hard to be quiet when you're that enthusiastic. There was no nudity, but the clothes were askew and hands were busy.

I concentrated on keeping my breathing slow and even and my eyes so nearly closed that I could barely see them. It was a pretty hot scene, and I enjoyed it. I was irked at the rudeness of it, and slightly turned on. Anneli glanced in my direction a few times, but I kept playing opossum and they were none the wiser.

I know it was also rude of me to watch, and not let them know I was awake. But I have no TV, and must get my voyeurism appeased somehow. A few weeks of no reality tv makes one primed for peeping. Maybe I'll try snoring next time, and they can relax and go all the way.

Am I bad? Do you forgive me?
What would you have done?


5 Evil Things I Miss:

1) In-N-Out Burger's
Freshly Cut, Never Frozen French Fries
- - They don't taste like any other french fry you've ever had, because they are cut from real, whole potatoes seconds before they are fried and delivered unto you for inhalation. Like, in the Biblical sense. You say "Something's wrong with this here French Fry" - -

- - and then you realize the truth - the fries are wonderful. They only seem wrong because every other fry you've ever had was frozen two years before you ate it. They don't have In-N-Out Burger in most states, so I recommend buying a plane ticket to CA immediately.

2) Smirnoff Ice Premium Malt Beverage
I'm a wuss when it comes to drinking, but they are yummy. Drinks have to taste good. Plus, I'm off mead for life.

3) Half-drunken Un-Wed Sex in Front of the Fire, on the Faux Bearskin
There's really nothing like it. I recommend a yoga pad underneath the bearskin tho.

4) Caffeine
C'mon Baby. Just a dime bag. I'll be sooo nice to you.

5) Electricity
Anything that is so necessary should be classified as an addiction. I'm cranking my fingers off over here.


It's that time again, where we answer Comment Queries!

Brought to you by Mountain House Pasta Primavera Family Dinner -
Damn Tasty!

Mike's Question:
I just had a reality check as to the enormity of how long your trek actually is. I went to Yahoo maps to see how far Prudhoe Bay is from your starting point...I tried the "driving directions" feature to get the mileage and..."We are sorry, but driving directions cannot be determined between these two locations. Try a nearby location." Can you recommend a nearby location so I can try again?

Answer:
You'd like some directions to better understand the enormity of my plan, plight, and pilgrimage - Sure thing!

Wait, no.

There are no directions that Yahoo Maps can give you. This region is too remote, empty, and too rarely traveled. And if Yahoo could give you directions, they would be street directions. They would not match our meandering foot-powered path.

As the Snow Goose flies, it's about 205 miles, say 215 walking, (or more). A benefit of hiking Alaska in the dead of winter is that 99.9% of the bogs, streams, quicksand pits, creeks, sea inlets / small bays are frozen over, allowing a human to walk across with ease. This allows us a lot more direct a path than we'd be allowed in the summer months.

See, we're not stupid, just crazy. Thanks for the interest Mike!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Tongue Lashings and Specialized Wigglers

Days Walking - 11

The shelter Jake, Caeled, and I shared collapsed on us last night. Just on one side, I should say. It was my fault, I was in a hurry during the building process for some reason (what, did I have somewhere else to be?) and instead of patting the snow with the back of my hand/glove, I was pressing with the palm-side...

...I ended up compressing the snow too much, and it couldn't breathe at all, and MELT became an issue, leading to instability. You have to form, shape, and encourage the snow, but not compact it too tightly. Ugh. So there was much cursing, griping, and tongue-lashing because yes, I suck.

5 Habits I Hope Stay Broken

1) Watching TV.
I used to waste so many hours just lying there like a lump, watching Court TV or Cops or what have you. Good grief, I want those years of my life back and they are gone forever. I read and write a lot more now, and don't miss TV... hardly at all... except for Desperate Housewives. And Carnivale. And MythBusters. But their memory is fading.

2) Cigarettes.
Cause damn.

3) Relationships With No Future
Like a goodly portion of the women on this planet, I have issues. The boys who are interesting and compelling are not the ones who make a good spouse. The boys who fall asleep after sex are the ones you want, and I'll tell you why. Step 1, Sex - Step 2, Sleep = no more sex with other women. If he is raring to go after a thorough loving, his genetic past involves males who seek more partners - - -

- - - Sex with one gal, then sex with another, then sex with another. For a male animal, that is how you make sure your genes live on. There is even specialized sperm (there are multiple types, and they all have jobs - how weird I know) whose job it is to block sperm from other guys. The fact that there was a need for this specialized wiggler makes it clear that multiple partners is a part of male propensity.

(As if we needed more proof) But, ah - the man who passes out after lovin will be the one who you wake up to the next day - he didn't slip off in the night. We want the stay-at-home type. The domestic type, the child-tending type. Those edgy, exciting boys with the tats, 'tudes, and endless energy are not Daddy's, they're Breeders.

4) General Laziness
Work on a project, some project, at least a little bit every day. Eventually, something will get finished. 'A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step' I paraphrase a wise man whose name I forget.

5) Lack of Perspective / Spirituality
If We are all there is, it's an awful waste of space. Again, I'm paraphrasing. Carl Sagan, this time.

If there's something more fun than boot-skating across a frozen river, I'd like to know. Shwoosh Shwoosh Swoosh!

Missay!! Woo!
(yes) Is you with me now (yes) then biggie biggie bounce(yes) I know you dig the way I sw-sw-switch my style(holla!!) people sing around (yes) Now people gather round, now people jump around...

I love me some Missy Elliott!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Freakish Hysterical Insect Issue

Days Walking - 10

Sanity Level - 6

(On a scale of 1 to 10.)
- 10 - being utterly and completely sane, and
- 1 - being a drooling, giggling heap in the corner, wide-eyed and hungry for soap.

"Soap! It makes water wetter!" Beakman taught me that.

I'm awake early again. I don't know why.

Dad, I'm alive, stop emailing me frantically. The satellite phone and /or PC linkup were both unable to connect last night, sorry I missed our "Goodnight" communique. (He'll show up one day with a team of hired Mercenaries (having triple-mortgaged the house to pay them) and spirit me away to a sanitarium / convent.) He'd like that. "Get thee to a nunnery!"

Marina's phrase of the day:
"Coneste viento, debe estar bromeando!"

Which means, "With this wind, you must be kidding!"
These are really phrase-a-day quotes, I'm not making these up. Maybe they're supposed to be funny, so you remember them, like a catchy jingle?

I am sad for Johnny Soderstrom, a climber who very likely got killed in an avalanche on Mount Huntington in Denali on Feb 15th. They stopped looking for him on Sunday. That could be me, given up for dead - or any of us.

Sometimes I feel really weak and frail, with delicate hollow bones. And that very soon someone or something is going to come squish me for my impertinence.

Sorry to deliver depressingness, I don't think that's why you read my blog... Let's not harsh the buzz, especially so early.

Um, fingers twitching over keys as mind searches under cushions for happy thoughts... Lots of Hair (how it is I'm not bald, I dunno), A Button,Penny, Little Sliver of Condom Wrapper, Melty Hairy Skittle (was purple, once)...

Hey! Here it is, A Happy Thought! A woman in Anchorage cut off her man's penis, flushed it down the toilet, and the utility folks plumbed it out, and it has been successfully re-attached!!

Damn, that is some good service. I don't know about you guys, but I've never had that prompt a response from any utility company. Alaska is looking more appealing every day. Hell, I've waited on hold with a question longer than this guy waited to get his penis back.

Hear Hear, Anchorage Water Utility!! Let's all move here!

Several folks have asked - -
- - Why, why why did we choose winter for our trip to start. In Alaska.

When you walk for 5 or more years, you're going to see at least 5 winters. There's no winning. Actually, the high latitudes are a lot easier to traverse during the winter.

In winter you can cross-country ski in some areas, (which we have not been doing) and pull your gear in sleds (which Kwame and Adrian are doing. Sleds seem like too much work for me personally. They get stuck, they fall over, they are awkward. My pack is my pack, and has yet to flip over while I was using it.)

During the warmer months, tundra is very marshy, wet, and ick. Picture the bog of dead things in Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, and you've got a good image.

Also, there is the freakish, hysterical insect issue. Stop reading now if you have any bug paranoia's...

Those bugs love them some warm tundra: Deer Flies, (who deliver unto you the Loa Loa fun, (which is where a larval Deer Fly gets to GROW INSIDE YOU FOR ABOUT A YEAR, crawling around inside your skin, I'm not joking.) Deer Flies are best known for transmitting Lyme Disease, which causes rashes, fever, weakness, muscle aches, headaches, and joint pain.

Black Flies bring unto you encephalitis (aka West Nile Virus) and enjoy flying into a person's eyes, ears, noses and mouth. (And if we were a naked species, I can imagine a few more orifices it would enjoy).

That's not even mentioning the Teeny Biting Midges and Mosquitoes. I'm getting seriously itchy just thinking about it. I want to wriggle and scratch and have someone check my hair for crawlies. Fun!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Secret Do-ings and Go-ings On

Days Walking - 9

Next Bar / Shower / Bed - Prudhoe Bay, Alaska
Distance - 143 miles
Arrival Estimate - 18 days

I am wide awake in the darkness of morning. It's very still outside, everything is quiet and very very peaceful. Jake was breathing so softly, I thought he'd stopped, and had to watch him closely to see the rise and fall, rise and fall.

There was a rumor I heard somewhere that constant, unceasing wind can drive people into crazed fits of anger, that the irritation of friction eats away at your resolve, good manners, and any semblance of civilized demeanor. Let me just say that the rumor is true, and I'll testify under oath with my hand on the Bible and all that.

Anneli went apesh*t yesterday when Jake dropped her Rio Karma. She completely overreacted, the gizmo is just fine and spouting out tunes as per usual. It was uncalled for, and we all told her so. However, Anneli and Jake had been sheltering together, so now it looks like I'm swapping and Jake is now with me and Caeled. At least for the time being. She's been edgy for the last couple of days, I don't know what her issue is. Except the f*cking wind, which has been a true source of constant irritation.

The Aurora are beautiful, and I've heard that some cultures try to conceive their child basking in the glow. Sounds good to me. "Little One, you were conceived under a beautiful, dynamic sky dancing with colors." (instead of "during a weekend trip to Reno, I think...") Actually I think I learned that during a Northern Exposure episode, so I can't ratify this bill into law.

Sing it: "R-A-T-I-F-Y! Sock it to me Sock it to me Sock it to me YEAH"

You know, I have to wonder if there's something else going on between Anneli and Jake. Mebbe some secret doings and goings on in the dark dark of the night? Hmn. This here could turn into a soap opera if we're not careful.

Marina's phrase of the day:
"Este abrigo hace que me vea gorda"

"This coat makes me look fat."
Thanks Marina. Maybe I'll start blocking her email address.

Did you know Kodiak Island, Alaska was discovered by a Princess? Tis true! And Magellan was only a nobleman. Pshh nobles, as if. Oblige this.

Reader 'Mike' asked about critters yesterday. Yep, they're around. Most of them hear us coming a mile away and take off. We see a lot more tracks than we see critters. As for protection, being noisy Americans does a pretty good job. The majority of animals appreciate their solitude, and will scamper away when they hear us coming.

Some guides I've read actually recommend whistling or singing. As for bears, yes that is a concern, and I should not have slept with a Lunchable. (it was just pillow-talk Baby) Protocol dictates that you store all food, utensils, scraps, and the clothes you wear while cooking - away from camp, up off the ground, and downwind of camp. Whew!

A polar bear can smell a seal's breath from like a half a mile away. Not their cute but stinky asses, just the breath. Crazy. Imagine what my unbathed rump must smell like to a polar bear - probably detects me at 5 miles. So far, animal sightings are slim. I've seen exactly three adorable white fox's and a lot of birds. Or one persistent fox, can't tell.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Nutrient-Rich Earwax Nectar

Days Walking - 8

I've decided to do what I can to better myself during The Long Walk. I'm picking up survival expertise daily, which is good and also life-preserving. Church has been teaching us medical stuffs.

Marina has started emailing me an Espanol Phrase a Day, to assist in the 'learnin' efforts. I think she's getting them from a bizarre, 'phrase a day' calendar... Today it was -

"Sabes coser botones?"

Which of course means: "Can you sew on buttons?".

I'm sure this phrase, now learned, will serve me well in my daily life. It will prove to be the quintessential phrase of my young life, and assist me in all manner of tight situations.

Rolling eyes.

Kwame has a minor frostbite issue. We've all been really careful, but things happen. Ok, I exaggerate - it's "Frostnip", thank you Church. Frostnip sounds almost cute, like little fey creatures of the cold that come up to nibble on your earlobe, lapping up nutrient-rich earwax nectar. But no. Frostnip is the least scary flavor of Frostbite. If Frostbite is a hard-boiled ex-con, Frostnip is his younger sister, who did a few weeks in juvie after stealing a lipstick.

When the aforementioned 'nip' was discovered and diagnosed, we threw up one of the 2 man tents. Now we haven't been using the tents because the wind is a pain and the shelters are a lot better insulated. But we are in a rush, so we set up one of the tents and got out the mini stove and warmed some water up to around 105 degrees F.

We then soaked Kwame's poor, damaged toes until the discoloration went away. It is the judgement of Adrian and Church that Kwame will be all right. He was properly covered, but was lacing his boots too tight, and that caused poor circulation, and the Frostnip of Doom crept in to do its evil work. Damn, it's like humans were not meant to inhabit -40F environments. WTF??

We were in a huge rush to unpack, so everything's a mess, (It was really very cool to see everyone pulling together in a crisis, even if it wasn't life-threatening... No one wants to lose any toes! It was our first Oh Sh*t! event, and it was lump-in-the-throat goodness, after the scariness was over) and anyone who's ever unpacked a TV knows it don't like to go back into the box. It's like that. Things that used to fit don't fit no moe!

So since we've stopped, we're having lunch now. I am partaking in a Pizza Lunchable, which I warmed all night with my body heat, for optimum not-frozenness. It's one of my delicacies, and it's the last one.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Girls + Boys x Alcohol = Sex

Days Walking - 7

Should I say ' 7 ' days if we rested yesterday?
Yeah, I should.

We'll be heading out again as soon as the sun comes up, circa 9:44am.

Well, I wish I could say that something interesting happened yesterday, that we found a WW2 Bomber locked in the ice, or a mysterious cave with some new Bible scrolls. Nothing. These items and more might have been waiting nearby for our discovery, but we did not look.

Crank Crank Crank

It felt great to rest! I was kinda restless though. If I'd have been at home, I would have zoned out in front of the tv, half-reading a book. Here, I felt the itch to keep going, South and West. A little cream cleared that right up.

Crank Crank Crank

I have a toothache. I don't know if I brushed too hard, (I can be oh so vigorous) or if it's the old wisdom tooth problem. A dull ache. Ugh I know, I know, I should have gotten it taken care of before we started this trip. It's not bad, just distracting.

Mmn, Ibuprophen, how I love thee. One, two, three, gulp. Is it true too much Ibuprophen is bad for the vision?

I spent a significant portion of my 'resting' yesterday cranking cranking cranking. Not calling people, ala Crank Yankers, neh. We each have these little dynamo's, with rechargeable batteries and 'insert power out cable here' and you gotta crank. Want your iPod to work? Best get your crank on. Want to post blogs? Crank crank crank.

These silly little dynamo devices make a whirring "Wooo! Wooo!" sound, which sounds strangely like European Police sirens. "Warum sie beschleunigendes amerikanisches mädchen sind!!?"

Never had the pleasure of having the Polizei on yout tail? Give 'The Bourne Identity' a viewing and you'll hear what I mean. So all day long, you have this guilty, looking over your shoulder feeling. It sounds like we got "Smokies on our Six."

"Sh*t! Wipe the hard drives! Flush the merchandise! Craaaaaap!" But no, it's just eight people crankin. No, not crank the drug, geez I just explained.

So yeah, yesterday was pretty uneventful. I talked to Church about Adrian, and it sounds like she's not interested. I can understand, he doesn't seem to be her type. But if I know men, which I do a bit, starting at an unfortunately young age, these guys are doing the math (If math = sex, a lot more men would be going for degrees in mathematics) and saying "Three Girls + Five Boys + Five Years x Alcohol = Nookie" It's just a matter of time, the right day, the right mood, and the right level of vulnerability. They think.

But I really have no interest in a quick, fun, unfortunate shag followed by 4.5 more years of walking, after the whole thing ends up in an argument, and a "Just stay the f*ck away from me!" which means that the People I Can Talk To list dwindles by... um... a big percentage. Yeah, I don't know what percentage removing 1 from 8 is off the top of my head. Now see, if math = sex, mebbe I would have paid more attention in class.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Fresh out of Conception Approval Forms

Days Walking - 6

Today's Posts - 2 of 2

I miss my kitty. Meow, little one. Perhaps when we reach warmer climes, I will send for you, and carry you atop my backpack, like a Familiar... Until I am encircled by an angry mob and burned as a nose-twitcher. Hmn.

Five things I don't miss about the civilized world:

1) Traffic.
Cause damn, who needs it? Don't miss that red light washing over me, and the BRIGHTS from some as*hole's HUM-V blinding me from behind. Like a rough and indifferent hand groping my ass. Not even enjoying it. (Damn, at least one of us should enjoy it, right? No.) I flip down the rear view mirror, but pow, the brights still hit me, both barrels, from my side mirrors - -

- - So I end up leaning forward like a hunchback, trying to maintain my night vision. Meanwhile the cute guy in the convertible next to me (a neurologist and poet - He and I were Fated to be together, but not now. Never now) glances away quickly, embarrassed, averting his eyes from my creepy, twisted spine and speeds off, astounded and dismayed that such a malformed specimen such as myself can manage to drive a car.

2) Schedules.
I know that I still have a schedule of sorts, but it's based on the sun. And that's the only schedule I need. No ringing bells, buzzing clocks, chirping bleepy electronic bullshit reminding me it's time to rinse and run. "...Did you remember to punch in, Litany?" F*ck that.

3) Crowds.
The pressing masses pressing against me, everywhere I went, choked with people. You can't turn without bumping into someone, or stand still for two seconds without being in someone's way. I'm waiting hoping and praying that some wacko billionaire will decide to build The City of Tomorrow, in the Nevada desert say. It's designed for exactly X number of people, and no more - -

- - Everything is within walking distance. Because humans can't be trusted to limit themselves, and we keep building on and on and adding more floors and more people and the population density just keeps going up. No. It needs to be X number of people in Y amount of space. If you want to have a second kid, you'll have to move to city #48, because #47 has reached the max. Or wait a few weeks till one of the old fogies dies. "...We might have an opening in November, you can apply for a Conception Approval Form then."

4) Mortgage, refinancing, loan radio ads.
I'm afraid that I listened to a lot of AM radio "KNX Ten Seventeee, Newws Raaadeeeoohh!" during my Past Life (- you know, a couple weeks ago -) and damned if every other minute there was a stupid annoying ad for mortgaging. I need to get satellite radio cause damn. I'm all for advertising, some ads are funny and wonderful, - I might even go into advertising some day - but they need to be more targeted to the specific listener. I don't need to hear about geriatric shit, (like how to better manage my Social Security) I'm 20 f*cking years old. Talk to me about how to have safe sex, make the world better, how to adopt a puppy, how to choose a career, how to cure zits and appreciate music and art, and tell me about the amazing new novels that just came out. I don't need to know how to choose a burial plot, no no no. Well, it's a technology thing, and ads will become more personally directed. It's just a matter of time.

It's so precious! Adrian is trying to flirt with Church, and while his skill in survival is a thing to behold, he's no Ladies Man. Let me just check... Ouch! 'Zero Chance of Snogging' per the National Weather Service. Sorry Adrian.

Maybe I'll give him some pointers when she's out of earshot. But he does have 2 months of putting her (all of us) through Hell - during the training - to work against. All that negative reinforcement is gonna take some time to fade, I think.

I'm really craving salt today.

Litany Webb, signing off

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I Don't Deserve This

Days Walking - 6

Today's Posts - 1 of 2

We're taking 1 day a week off for rest and recuperation, and today is the day for this week. It's a balmy -29F and it's not snowing. 'Zero Chance of Precipitation', per the National Weather Service. Cool.

Since nothing is really going on today, I was gonna not post (er, not gonna post?) but Marina threw a hissy. I picture her in a high-tech Control Room (it's a drab office, actually) tracking my bio-rhythms with state-of-the-art telemetry. What am I, a research study now? She's gonna sell my life story as some psyche thesis on the black market, I just know it.

"By request! 'Control, I'm Here' by Nitzer Ebb. This one is goin out to Litany, on the frozen bald spot of the Earth."

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. There is (virtually) no one for miles and miles. And that's how I likes it.

The wind has calmed down quite bit, but when it does blow, it carries these tiny, very fine little ice crystals - like baby powder - in luxurious snaky tendrils, flowing along the ground like spirits on their way to some glorious destination. It's fabulously beautiful and I don't deserve this.

Suggested arctic gear for someone to design and sell - Litany Webb (tm) Note-Jotting Gloves. OK picture this: The back/top of the glove, where the meaty wide portion of your hand is - would have a specially textured, re-useable area that you can use to jot a note, with the attached writing implement (on a cute lil string that tucks away into a cute little pocket) - -

- - The note could only be removed by using a special little eraser thingy, so you couldn't accidentally rub it off. I come up with so many brilliant ideas while I'm trudging, and I can't stop and get out a notebook and take off my gloves and write myself a note. I should have brought little mini digital recorder. Hmn.

brb

Litany Webb, signing off

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FAQ - Give Me Your Huddled Masses

Days Walking - 5

FAQ! Because the emails, they don't stop.

- - - - -

What is a FAQ?
F.A.Q. is an abbreviation for Frequently Asked Questions.

Some of this info you may already know.
Feel free to scroll on past that sh*t.

- - - - -

What are you doing?
Our group is taking an insanely long walkabout, the longest walkabout in the history of mankind (without stopping to build a teepee, ger, or hut). We have pledged to walk from Barrow, Alaska to Punta Arena, Chile. Yes, the country of Chile.

We're starting at the bald head of the planet earth, dandruffy with snow, and walking to a point just below the chin. Described less whimsically, that's (giving or taking) about 15,000 miles. I told you we were insane. But it's a good insane. At ten miles a day on average, walking six days a week, that's 1500 days. At 312 days a year, it's 5 years. I'll be 25 years old or dead at the end of this road.

We try to get in about 10 miles a day, but often averages 6-8.
Many of the early days were -24 with the wind chill, give me a break.

- - - - -

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?
Because this is an amazing world, full of mystery, beautiful sights, sounds, and people. And because I can. And because the idea scares the beejeesus outta me. If it doesn't scare me, it's not worth doing.

- - - - -

How is it you have time/energy to post?
This is the land of the midnight sun, baby. As of this edit of the FAQ, on June 20 2005, the sun rises here at about 3am. The sun sets at about 1am. No that's not a typo, we have only an hour and a half, two hours of 'night'. Yes, it is freaky - I agree.

That gives us about 8 hours for hiking (not counting breaks), and we stop about an hour before sunset to build the shelters. We stop long before sunset, obviously. We can't hike for 22 hours a day.

While on the road, I don't post my entries myself, I call and dictate them into Marina's voicemail, who types them in and posts them for me. (You'll meet Marina in a minute) .

- - - - -

Who are you people?
We are The Pilgrimage of Litany (and friends)

Anneli G____
Team Engineer, Builder of Bridges
22 years old, of Asbestos, Maine.
Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes, brilliantly bright mind. She's going to be a civil engineer one day. Anneli is a determined, focused type of girl who takes no shit and no prisoners.

Church B______
Team Nurse, Tender of Hospice
19 years old, of Tacoma, Washington. Church has this energy in the air around her... She is cool peeps. She's been a volunteer at her uncle's veterinarian clinic and she prefers dogs to cats.

Litany Webb
Team Chronicler, Bard and Poet
20 years old, of Los Angeles, California.
I have a profile and it talks about me and if you can't glean my personality from blog context, I don't know what more I can tell you.

Jake B____
Team Survival Expert, Fixer
23 years old, of El Paso, Texas.
A good guy and very sharp. Capable and confident. He's had a lot of survival training in different climates and has even been an professional survival instructor. He can build a makeshift shelter, start a fire with virtually nothing, and tell you (in exhaustive detail) which roots and grubs won't kill you.

Kwame R______
Team Linguist, Charmer and Player
21 years old, of Pleasant Prairie, Montana.
He grew up in a genuine cathouse, and knows a thing or two about women. He speaks five languages fluently and two more passably. (English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Chinese, German, Gaelic).

Adrian G______
Team Fitness Trainer, Master of Pain, Masseuse
25 years old, of Chicago, Illinois.
Over the past two months, he's dragged our asses out of bed in the pre-dawn gloom, and made us march directly up hills that should properly be described as mountains. When it's more than 45 degrees, you should have ropes, not shoes. He designed our obstacle course, and insisted that we all beat it in 2 minutes or less. Anyone who thinks girls can't climb ropes has not met Adrian.

Gabriel N_____
Team Equipment Specialist, Biomechanics Engineer
28 years old, of New York, New York.
Gabriel is a poet trapped in the body of a mathematician. The man is trying to apply string theory to build a better hiking boot.

Caeled B_____
Team Electronic Engineer, IT God
18 years old, of Cordoba, Argentina.
Typical lumpen, sun-fearing computer nerd. (Those are his words). He's an amazing technical resource, and has encyclopedic knowledge of First Edition D&D.

and (sorry I left you out last time, my girl!)

Marina B___
Logistical Goddess
37 years old, of Los Angeles California.
Marina is not walking with us, and she is so happy about that. She works at my Dad's company, and he decided to add my little team onto her 'to do' list. She keeps tabs on us, mails us supplies, and reminds Dad to feed my cat. Meow!!

- - - -

How does the logistics work?
Marina (see the Who Are You People question) handles stuff like where and when to ship our next CARE package, supplies, and goods. Family members for the other team members also work through Marina. And she makes sure my bills get paid and that we're still alive. She reminds me to answer my email.

- - - - -

What in God's name makes you think this is possible...?
The Natives of Chile got there somehow, ai'ght? And they didn't jet-set. They got their serious walk on, 10,000 years ago, and they didn't even have Bactine.

- - - - -

Can I join up and walk with you?
Wow, no. We did a lot of calculation and study on group size, social dynamics, etc - and eight is the optimum number. If someone dies, I'll give you a shout-out.

- - - - -

Is there Pilgrimage of Litany merchandise?
There is! http://www.cafepress.com/litanywebb There is like zero art skill on the team, but we cobbled together a few items. Want to donate some artwork for the cause? Email me.

- - - - -

How Can I Help?
It's just nice to know you guys are out there. I love love love getting comments on the blog, pro or con. And if you're really twitching to help, feel free to click on the ads at the bottom of the page. Quality Consumer Goods await your perusal! If 900 million people click on an ad, I get like fiddy cents. Woot!

- - - - -

My publication would love to hire you, paying you gobs of cash to syndicate your entries, or write a column or novel.
Ok, no one has ever asked me this.
But it would be nice.
And of course I would agree.

- - - - -

What does the group talk about?
There are times when we discuss Highbrow Issues, like morality, religion, ethics, politics, and the fate of the planet. I should probably relate some of those discussions, instead of just rambling daily about my random thoughts and wacko dreamings. Next time we talk about something Important, I'll take notes.

But largely, we talk about what people usually talk about, minus the routine. Your average bullsh*t. We're not talking about last night's episode of Sex in the City, or how the dog trashed the laundry room - again, or how our boss is an assh*le. All of that 'watercooler' stuff is not there.

We talk about old movies, and try to quote as many lines as we can ("No Horsesh*t, Jack? No Horsesh*t.") we talk about our lives growing up, and what brought us to this point (though a lot of that was covered in the first few months. We trained together for months before starting the trip, so a lot of the 'getting to know you' sh*t took place a while ago. There was a blog for that period, but it has gone poof, hence this new blog.

We complain about the weather, the shortness of the days (the sun doesn't even rise very high before dipping back down, and noon doesn't look like noon. You're tapping your watch going - "It can't be noon, this thing is busted!"), equipment problems (something is always rubbing. And if it aint rubbing, it's pinching. And if it's not pinching... well you see where I'm going.)

How we should have brought more pepper and less salt, etc.A big topic is "When we reach civilization, I'm gonna..." It's almost like we're in prison or on a desert island. You get strong cravings for stuff you don't have. For food, snacks, tv shows, porn, a warm bed, a rousing LAN party of Quake / Unreal (video games), chance to visit a church / temple / synagogue, the list is endless.

- - - - -

How would your trip be different without technology?
The trip would not be possible without technology. I wouldn't even consider it. Without GPS, emergency locator beacons, satellite phones and PC uplinks, rechargeable battery packs and crank dynamo's, there's just no way. We would die, and no one would ever find us.So that covers the tech-necessities.Gizmo's like iPods and GameBoys are nice, but in no way necessary. They just help distract us when we're resting. When I listen to my iPod as I walk, I have to keep the volume low, so I can hear verbal cues from the group - "I've fallen and I can't get up, I've fallen through the ice, a Polar Bear is eating my face", that sort of thing.) Books are heavy, so being able to listen to audiobooks on the iPod are a real weight-saver. There are 3 different religious books I'm listening to right now. They are each based on a different faith, and it's really interesting to compare the themes. Underlying them all is really a sense of order and purpose, and a 'Be Groovy and Things Will be Groovy' sensibility. But I digress. How unlike me. (is there a text-based smiley symbol for rolling eyes?)

- - - - -

What are you hoping to get from the trip?
I hope and pray for an expanded appreciation for the planet, its vastness, and our place in it. I want to see free animals and unfenced trees and wild water, and mountains and canyons. When I'm done walking, I want to be able to look at a map and see not just lines and letters, but remember the smell of the ground exactly there. In that precise location. The earthy-ness of it. To rake my fingers through it and see the beetles scurry and the worms wormy and get it under my fingernails.

To smell the vitality of the earth, untouched by urban haze and carbon monoxide. If that means that a mud pot or geyser belches out sulfur, that's fine, I want to smell it. If a bat-filled cave smells of guano, I want to smell it. And I want to smell the caribou and the bison and the deer. And the fields of flowers. I want to sink to my knees, curl on my side and pass out in a field of poppies and dream dream dream of Nirvana.

I want to become a better writer.

I want to meet people, Earthlings all, working hard in their daily life, working the farm, the orchards, the mines, the bars and diners and rock climbers and white water rafters. I want to meet the Native folks with their ancient ways, boats and snowmobiles, humility and pride.

I want to meet the hermit meditating in his hut, solving the mysteries of mysteries in the wilderness. I want to shake his hand and share his breath and ask him about his favorite jazz song.

- - - - -

How does the experience compare to expectations?
We're not making as much progress as I'd hoped. We planned for 10 miles a day, and usually do around 8. We're not lazy, but early on, (it was winter when we started) the days were really short. Some of the drifts and deformed multi year ice make the terrain a lot less flat than we expected, from examining the topo maps. So far, there's been no earthy soil for me to play in, or caribou to smell, or poppies to dream in. Since leaving Barrow, we've only bumped into one person. Happy, Mournful Sigh. And he was very very cool, so the 'interesting peeps encountered' box gets a 100% score. So far, there hasn't been a lot of stimuli, not much to write home about. The third day was largely like the fourth day, and et cetera. Once we work our way farther south, and the weather improves, and we reach the treeline, I'm sure things will get a lot more interesting.

- - - - -

What do you plan to do after the trip is over?
I really don't know what to expect. No idea. Maybe I'll find a village that I fall in love with somewhere in Central America, and join the Peace Corps and help the locals. Devote my life to teaching and tending. Maybe I'll fall into an ice crevasse tomorrow and die. Maybe a sexy Martial Arts instructor in Brazil will sweep me off my feet, and I'll settle down, raise kids, and teach interpretive dance. Maybe I'll catch the fever and join a diamond mine in Argentina, forsaking my Americano Fait and sifting for sparkly carbon bits. I'm sorry that I don't have a better answer. I'm not sorry that it's a big, frightening exciting unknown.

- - - - -

Do any of the Walkers write a blog?
Caeled (our IT guy) does, but he's frightfully private. It's not shared, it's one of those 'online-but-no-one-can-see-it' ones, which makes no sense to me. That's like putting a classified ad in the paper, but putting it in some weird code that no one can read. Why, Caeled? It's a social medium. S h a r e!

I'll work on his resolve and see if I can get him to be a little more open with the world. Also, Church keeps a journal, of the old fashioned, pen and paper ilk. Spiral bound at the top, and she writes in the purplest of inks. I don't know if she ever plans to type it all up for the world to see. She enjoys her music player, but isn't much for technology beyond that.

- - - - -

Planning the trip -
Were the members chosen to get along and work well together?
The hardest part was finding people who were interested, truly interested in spending five years of their life away from their homes and families. After that, it became a weeding process looking for the right skillsets. We needed a survival expert, we needed a medical type, and a technology guy, and like that. Beyond that, the right people sort of chose themselves. And we get along because we're the type of people who would choose to do this. It's like Rocky Horror. If you show up, all in costume, and hang with all the other wonderful freaks in costume, you're likely to get along, because you're interested and willing to go to that place, to be silly and fun and just go with it.

- - - - -

You talk about sex a lot. Are you a slut?
I am a slut trapped in a wary woman living in the year 2005. If only I'd been born in 1945, I would have been 20 in 1965. Free Love Baby. Back in the day, all you had to worry about was clap. Ah, the good old days. Of course, that's forgetting Syphilis. Let's do.

- - - - -

Are you/the team allowed to catch rides / hitchhike?
No. If a member is injured and cannot walk to a hospital, one member may ride with the injured party to the hospital. Everyone else walks. Bodies of water are a different story, there is no swimming with huge heavy fuc*ing backpacks on.

- - - - -

Are you related Morgan Webb? Can you introduce me?
No. And no.

- - - - -

Will you be my girlfriend / will you marry me?
Mmm maybe I should meet you first, neh?

- - - - -

Can I use excerpts from your blog?
Sure, just email me and tell me what you'd like to use, and where it's gonna be displayed. Also, you gotta credit me with the byline and link back to my blog.

- - - - -

What are your measurements, how much do you weigh, where can I download nude pics of you?
No. No. No.

- - - - -

When is your birthday?
9/30/84 but feel free to get your gift on at whim. My Wishlist.

- - - - -

Who is paying for all this? Your Daddy? You suck, rich girl.
F*ck you. Each of us scraped together the initial fundage for our gear by ourselves. A couple of the guys took out loans from friends and family. Plus, you'd be surprised how little you can live on when you're not paying rent, car payments, insurance, gas money, and lunch at PF Changs.

- - - - -

How much does it cost to walk across the known world / how much was your gear?
Well obviously we won't know how much the total is until we've done it. But to date, I alone have spent about $11,000. $7,082 was from my savings. I made $1200 selling my car, and $563.22 selling the majority of my worldly possessions. Then I cashed out a chunk of my college fund.

- - - - -

Where did you get your gear?
Gabriel built some of it with his own two hands, like Da Vinci. Such as the pendulum dynamo. The rest of the goodies, we got from REI, and various sites online, whoever was cheaper.

- - - - -

Is your real name Litany?
Sadly so.

- - - - -

"Litany" What were your parents thinking?
Mom hated the idea, Dad thought it was brilliant.

- - - - -

What does your gear consist of?
Only the heaviest possible stuff known to man! Dark Matter!! Arc'Teryx Bora 75 BackPack, MSR Wind 2 Man Tent, 10 FT Hang-up Clothesline, Garmin 201 Global Positioning System, Shoulder Straps for the backpack (why are they separate from the pack??), Outdoor Soap...on and on. Trust me you don't want the full list. If you just gotta have it, I made an excel file during the planning stages.

- - - - -

Are you equipped with a towel on the trip?
Yes, Ford Prefect taught me well. If you don't know what that means, there is movie, you lazy slob.

- - - - -

Do you think you'll actually finish?
Absolutely. Eventually. In only 5 years? Might be optimistic. What we did not calculate into the "5 Years" was the fact that we would have to stop in towns along the way and earn cash to further fund our expedition - buy replacement parts for our worn-out gear, buy more food, tp, you get the idea.

- - - - -

Can I buy your boots / hat / panties when you're done?
Um. I guess so. Jake suggested putting the stuff on eBay. We'll see.

- - - - -

Why don't you talk more about the other group members?
Because they are boring and I hate them. Ah, no. I'll get around to it. I'm the most vocal one, so you hear about me mostly. And I often ignore everyone and get my iTunes audiobook on. I can only listen to the wind whistle for so long.

- - - - -

Why don't you post your GPS data?
Ah, sometimes I do. I usually forget unless someone reminds me. Plus, aliens might choose to beam me aboard the mothership for experimentation / poking.

- - - - -

Can we meet up as you walk through my home town?
Hells yeah. Hit me with the digits.

- - - - -

Why do you post so few pictures, damn?
Did Shakespeare need pictures? I don't think so. Pics are a pain in my ass. I take many shots, until my memory stick is full, and then when I need it for an exciting action shot, it's full. It spends a lot of its time in my backpack. I have a lot of pics I will post one day, but I'm really lazy when it comes to this.

- - - - -

Do you drink / smoke / snort coke / etc?
Yes / Used to / Never Will. Peyote is interesting, but I'll probably never try it.

- - - - -

What is your position on - gay marriage / minorities / abortion / men / women / meat?
You'll have to glean these tidbits from context.

- - - - -

You owe me five bucks from last month...?
Um. I'll take care of you when I get home... I'm on a trip right now.

- - - - -

Do you really think anyone is still reading at this point?
You are. Yes you are, don't deny it.

Litany Webb, signing off

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It's the Little Things

Days Walking - 4

Breakfast has been successfully ingested. Urg. Let's not speak of it again, or I may get a second look. My nose is stuffy today. I have popped an extra Echinacea with breakfast, let's hope I don't get sick so early into the trek. Damn, I mentioned the 'B' word.

Just deleted five paragraphs that made no sense. Trust me, you're better off without them.

I'm watching the cursor blink. Words not coming. Am trying too hard. Am also thinking like William Shatner talks. Must. Break. Free.

Okay I'm better now. Yes, it is the little things, the small wonders the teeny miracles in life that grab you by the ears and shake you clean like a rug peppered with schmootz.

I woke up pretty depressed this morning. I think I'm losing weight. Shouldn't that make me happy? But no, feeling yucky. So I got up, inspected my pallid gray flesh for frostbite or nursing baby seals, and declared myself free of infestation. After bundling up, I intrepided off to take care of the morning business of - ahem - elimination.

I took maybe ten steps away from the shelter when I saw something on my boot. Stuck to the bottom, that is. It was colorful. Now, let me preface this a bit - you have to realize that at this latitude, there are no trees. So all day long we're looking at a lot of white white nothing. Tundra is what they call it in these parts. So on my boot is a gorgeous splash of color, and it's not poo. It's orange and its jaggedy and sure enough, it's an autumn leaf.

"...There are millions of leaves on the ground, Lit" - you say patiently, thinking that the snow and the ice have whittled my IQ down, like a little duck carved from soap. No! You see, - quack - there are no deciduous trees - quack - for miles and miles and miles. Deciduous means, like a pretty, flat leaf from say, a maple. If there were trees, they'd be Coniferous. Little needles. Like a pine tree.

So there's a pretty leaf on my boot that should not be there, like fish on Mars. And I take this as a sign that I need to cheer up, damn it. So I held my need to pee and returned to the shelter. The leaf is now safe and protected in a ziplock baggie and I will take it home with me one day and have it carbon dated.

"...Leaves blow in the wind, Lit" - you say impatiently, "sometimes for hundreds of miles" - thinking I'm a moron. Maybe. But I'll take my colorful good omens where-ever I can find them.

Litany Webb, signing off.

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At Terra in This Fateful Hour...

Days Walking - 4

Hello out there, oh knowledgeable people of the Earth.

Almost daily, it takes FOREVER for my post to appear online, sometimes not till the next day. I send at time X, and it goes, and all seems well... And then when I check that night, the lag is revealed. No post till the next day! Where does it go? Is it just chillin on the server somewhere?

The satellite company claims the delay is not on their end, but I have my doubts. Is there a way to track down what is causing the lag?

Anyone know? Email me, oh IT gurus. Help Help!

Litany Webb, signing off.

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Portishead, I Invoke Thee!

Days Walking - 4

I listened to Portishead all day yesterday.
There's something so pure, so undulating about their music.
It's a damn shame that it's been so long since they put anything new into the world.

...Of course, if I had put out two amazing, world-changing albums, I would be daunted by the very blaspheme of contemplating a third album. How do you top what you've done? How do you better perfection, grow and change in new directions, and still retain the essence of your previous work? Too much pressure.

So, I was listening to Portishead all day yesterday, grooving to the bass, the scratches, the savory, almost prurient pelvic rhythm. Beth Gibbons was singing her ass off just for me, and I was inspired to write a Portishead song of my own.

All right, so you have to hear it in your head.

Start with hearing the driving, coy, mysterious beat.
Minimal but impossible to forget.
The vocals, full of real emotion, need, desperation...

Hear it, don't just read it...
_ _ _ _ _

Lost - By Litany Webb

fall below
fall between
fall behind now, left unseen
dreaming dreams I’ve seen so bright
far beneath now, out of sight
fallen men deemed so high
truth be told I know not why
where they went, why they came
hidden faces glow with shame
frightened children where they hide
hearts of coal they find inside
here they weep, hear them cry
truth be told, I know not why
souls unchanged, left undone,
war forgotten battle won
soldiers reach out for their sky
without love we all must die
now we search for truth alone
our bright below is bleached white bone
truth before us, no more lies
curse of fallen echoes rise
fall below
fall between
fall behind now, left unseen
dreaming dreams I’ve seen so bright
far beneath now, out of sight…
_ _ _ _ _

It's not worthy of Portishead, but they have inspired me, and I love them!

I apologize, this isn't a very interesting post. After breakfast, I will give you a real one, like you are used to, full of incoherent goodness.

Litany Webb, signing off.

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Hardcore Lovin' and Couscous

Days Walking - 3

Where was I? Oh yes. Sivaluaq.
Now, I have to admit a certain weakness for Native American men. Grandma MacDole corrupted me at a young age. I was 11, I think, and I started reading the stack of books that were next to her couch. And behind her couch. And on top of her TV. Grandma had a lot of books.

So I started reading them one summer, they were cozies, a typically cutesy romance novel with gardening grannies or shy librarians or cookie bakers as the main character. But these are actually thinly disguised pornography. This is Penthouse Letters wrapped in a doily. If men only knew! Behind a thin gauzy curtain of baked goods and petunias is hardcore lovin.

And I developed a taste for this at a young age. My favorites were the westerns, where a shy Southern Belle is dragged out into the frontier by some slack-jawed drunkard as*hole. He tries to build them a cabin, and it's leaky and cold. He tries to farm, but only grows weeds. Somehow, As*hole has enough money for whiskey, and he regularly staggers home from the Saloon and beats her. Cause, you know, he's bitter and hopeless.

(No, I don't enjoy S&M western tales, just wait I'm getting to the part I like.)

So now the settlement is invaded by the righteous native warriors, trying to drive out the evil white man. Yeah! So our Southern Belle, who has never been loved properly in her whole life, has never met an orgasm and wouldn't know what to do with one is taken by A Sexy Native. Her as*hole husband vows to get her back, and begins to organize a posse.

Meanwhile, the Southern Belle is treated with respect by A Real Man, who holds everything on earth sacred, especially women. He loves her right, he rocks her world, he eats that pus*y like it was his last meal on earth, like a delicate flower, like an oasis in the desert. He loves her so thoroughly that she learns how to love him back, appreciate life, live with passion and verve. And when her As*hole husband shows up to 'rescue' her, she laughs. Then her Native Real Man chases the jerk away, and they live in deliciousness for ever, having one beautiful Native munchkin after another.

So as I meet Sivaluaq, my subconsious breeding persona blooms like a deprived Southern Belle. He was very kind, smart, and funny. We spent probably an hour talking to him, and he thought it was a real cool idea to walk for five years. He's one of the first people who actually thought we could do it, that it wasn't a waste of time. I mean, people came around eventually, but the first reaction was always "Right... Sure... Uh huh..." People humor the insane, until they can run away. Not this man. I got his address, and will write him.

5 Things I Learned Today:

1) Proper Breathing Technique can help your resistance to the cold. Breathe in, slowly, through your nose, hold it, and let it out. Repeat. Who knew?

2) Inupiaq men are fuc*ing hot! I may have to move to Kivalina.

3) Caeled's "First Time" was on the roof of a VW van, during a flood.

4) I may have to move to Kivalina.

5) There are over two hundred varieties of trap, but Sivaluaq prefers the non-strangling, foot snare types.

I would like to thank REI for their excellent merchandise, and would like to recommend Mary Janes Farm Organic Couscous and Lentil Curry.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Impossibly Warm Hands

Days Walking - 3

Seven miles today.
Was that really all? After all that determination, effort, burned calories, crunch crunch crunch of snow? It's really more of a squeak than a crunch.

I had some really bizarre dreams last night.
In one of them, I had just reached the end of a long day of walking (weird, I know) and I pulled off my boots. You know how your feet feel all light and floaty after taking boots off? So my feet started floating, right up into the air, taking me with them. I was hanging upside down and flailing and yelling for help, but no one was nearby. I floated off into the sky. That was the end.

Biting chapped lip in deep thought, ouch....
Perhaps I'll consult a dream interpretation web site. Maybe I should have brought a dream book along. No, I have enough to carry. I wonder if they have software versions, so you can just type up your dream and then let it process the subconsious musings for any symbolism.

Oh Oh Oh! We had a random encounter in the forest - It was a couple of hours after lunch...

So we're walking along, being stupid loud Americans, and I almost stepped in a trap. Like, a trappers trap, something you'd use to catch a little critter for roasting. So I stop short, and Caeled almost tramples me. Thousands of miles of open nothingness, and he's right on my heels. So I barked at him and he fell over instead on top of me. Which is good, because then I would have fallen into the trap and I woulda had to gnaw my arm off to escape.

But I wouldn't have had to resort to cannibalism (is it cannibalism if you don't swallow? I guess if it's not drug use when you don't inhale, then...no) because Sivaluaq was there, the sexiest man on the face of the planet. He was very kind. His Name is Sivaluaq. He's from Kivalina, and his mother is Sally. I don't know how the snow and ice around him manages not to just melt in a torrent, a huge flood that would swallow him up.

Sivaluaq is a native of the area, of the Inupiaq tribe. He spelled all this out for me, on my hand with a blue-inked UniBall Vision Elite that I will never use again. The pen, not my hand. I need to take a picture of my hand before it blurs.

My hand. Which he held in his impossibly warm hands. Sivaluaq is dark-haired and clean-shaven and athletic, the kind of athletic that comes from being A Real Man, of which there are only a few thousand on the planet. They should be on the endangered species list, I mean damn this boy is fine. He's 24 and has skillful, delicious strong hands and he saved me from having to gnaw off a limb.

Hold on. Food time. Wow, Jake - Vegetable Ramen, really? Not for me.

Why is there corn? Why?

brb

Litany Webb, signing off

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How My Priorities Have Changed!

Days Walking - 2

I am back.
I was left alone in the shelter for a few seconds, and had to get my scratch on in the worst way. It was my right leg, thank you very much. My underoos (thermal underwear) were chafing. Considering there are only 7 other people within like 30 miles, it's silly that we have no privacy.

Five things I Miss Most:

1) Bathing.
It's not just for Birthdays, anymore. I mean damn, Caeled. Everyone is getting pretty whiff. Not me, of course. But I've heard that people are insensitive their own odors. Hmn. What's that stuff that forensic, CSI type people put on their upper lip so they don't bork on the corpses? I want some of that, REI should carry that as camping gear.

2) Indoor bathrooms.
I swear, our distant ancestors had it rough, and I can't imagine living through an Ice Age, thousands of years, with no bathroom. Hell, I used to complain on mornings when the toilet seat was cold. No longer.

3) Eric's sweet sweet love organ.
Sigh. Why did I break up with him? I think I thought this trip would be all about smores, rum, sleeping late after amazing campout sex. Let me tell you, three people in a tiny tiny shelter does not equal romance. Especially when you consider Thing I Miss Most #1. My nipples have been numb, tingly, and rock hard for days, and I swear they are wearing a hole in my parka. One day I'll trip, hit the ground, and my tits will shatter. (I miss bathing more than sex. I'm not sure what that says about my priorities. I thought I knew me.)

4) Starbucks Chantico Drinking Chocolate, Dear Lord Yes.
Why did I have to discover a new chocolate obsession two weeks before we start walking the earth like Cain? At least Cain has Enoch. Gets to hang with the peeps, chill with the homies. Bet he even has some drinking chocolate. Substandard cocoa, leaving him wanting more. And no biscotti, he's been bad.

5) My kitty.
Her name is Maleficent and she's a beautiful Russian Blue mit papers. Ja mit papers das goot. Perhaps I will breed her, start a Russian Blue farm and become weathly, disgustingly wealthy.

Thank you Heather for the DH synopsis yesterday! The plumber dude got shot!?? Nooo!!

Church is remaining deliciously mysterious. I have not been sheltering with her, so maybe that's why she's the only one I don't want to drown in the snow. What a way to go. Heh Heh.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Disolving Leather, Nipples Shattering Like Glass...

Days Walking - 2

We made 9.3 miles yesterday!! I was sorely tempted to round up and say 9.5, but I want to keep this honest.

It's ten degrees warmer today. Can't tell. That's when you know it's cold.

I took some pictures of my boots before we started last week. They was brand new and beautiful, they was. Once they fall apart, I'll take some more shots. Hmn, maybe I'll take a pic a day, and turn it into a flipbook of leather dissolving. Jake suggested selling the tattered remains on eBay. I think I'd rather keep them.

I really don't feel like typing, but I am awake. And my typie-sounds are annoying Anneli, and if that's not good enough reason to keep going I don't know what is. She's been flirting with my menfolk. All of them are mine mine mine.

It had been my plan to dictate my blogs while on this f*cking trip. WinXP has a feature for this, and I've tried it. I've spent a lot of time speaking slowly and carefully so the stupid thing can recognize my voice. It will work passably during the training sessions, (toying with me) and then when I try to dictate a blog, I get garbage. Interesting garbage sometimes, but still.

Okay, here's an example of a dictated sentence, purely from the PC's interpretation, without editing:

"Toad a wasn't a miser bull coal day. The line of day bat makes you hate yore druther."

I know I said one (1) sentence. It was one sentence once. Good luck deciphering it. Ten points to the skilled Microsoft-speke geek who can translate it for the masses. ...But what can you get for ten points? Nothing. But fifty points gets you a kiss, so save your points boys and girls.

I've been trying to upload some pics for your enjoyment, but I can't find the USB cable. It's probably buried somewhere deep in my backpack. I should email REI and suggest a USB cable pocket on the outside of the hiking pack. But I won't. I still have not seen the royalties for my last suggestion, the lighter-than-air helium filled backpack.

Why does no one listen? Why, when they listen, do they not send cash? I need to eat from time to time damn it. You know, once a day whether my hips need it or not.

brb

Litany Webb, signing off

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We're Still Alive!

Days Walking - 1

Greetings to our concerned public! I must have received a hundred emails asking "Woah, Dudes, Are you guys like, alive?" or some variation thereof. Oops, not quite a hundred. 12 precisely.

We live! Rejoice!

Progress was slow yesterday. Our minds were not focused on the road (or more correctly, the lack of one) and kept dwelling on the idea that we had forgotten some vital piece of equipment under a bed, behind a dresser. In fact, we did leave something behind:

Civilization. Anyone who would argue that Barrow was not civilization has not spent a day walking east-southeast down the coast towards Prudhoe Bay.

We pooped out after 6 miles, according to the GPS. We needed to get the three shelters built before the sun went down - at just after 5pm - which of course we didn't manage to do. One shelter was completed before sundown, which provided a smidgen of respite, even if we did have to use it in shifts.

Yesterday, while we were on the outskirts of Barrow, walking directly into the soul-tearing-void, six different cars and trucks stopped to help us, see where we had broken down, and if we needed a tow. It took some persuading to convince some of these folks that we were intentionally tramping off into an icy hell. That we'd saved up for it even. That we were in full possession of gear and our faculties and would not be dead within hours.

Alaskan people are wonderful, concerned, helpful, and intelligent folks and I salute them!

5 Things We Learned Yesterday:

1) Anyone who has not attempted to pee during a -35 degree wind has not lived. You should try it yourself, you'll see. It should be illegal, like suicide or selling your organs. And as for (the failed-attempted) use of feminine products, well forget I mentioned it. 'Shrinkage' isn't a catch-phrase joke just for men, anymore.

2) Granola bars can and will freeze into solid, in-edible bricks.

3) When an iPod gets cold enough, it has a preference for The White Stripes. There are 109 songs on my Shuffle, and 22 of them are White Stripes. I counted, and 48 out of 64 "random" songs in a row were WS. Skip - 'Hello Operator' - skip - 'Astro' - skip - 'Fell in Love With a Girl - skip - growl in frustration. It's not that I don't like WS, I have 22 songs on my playlist - just wasn't in the mood at that moment...And the songs were liberally distributed in the playlist when I uploaded them. I've never had that happen before.

Someone should apply for a research grant and get to the bottom of this. If temp(-35F) and motion (1.5mph) divided by the square root of the distributed Coriolis Effect and weak nuclear forces = White Stripes ad nauseum... Hm.

4) Jake has a lovely singing voice.

5) In extreme cold environments, clothing needs to be loose enough to allow sweat to evaporate - otherwise, frost forms inside your clothes. It doesn't sound plausible, but let me assure you it's true. If frost does form on the inside of your clothes, you have to turn it inside out and beat it with a stick. Don't laugh at me, I speak the truth.

Thank you Iridium! Your satellite wireless pc equipment rocks! The F1 and F2 keys are frozen together, but you can hardly be blamed for me sneezing on the keyboard. Or can you be blamed? There could be a warning sticker about mucus and spewtum at low temps...

Jake (and the rest of us, for that matter) would like to recommend the 'mold method igloo' shelter type. It was crowded but warm and hardly dripped at all. We could use another mold form frame set, but then we'd have to carry it, so neh.

So yeah. It's another 207 miles or so to Prudhoe Bay. If we continue to make 6 miles a day, that's 26 days. Blink Blink.

- - -
White washed, my world
I can't feel my toes
Ice blinds my fate
and eats my nose.
- - -

Of course, when we reach higher population density areas, we'll probably surpass the '10 miles average' expectation, so it will all average out in the end.

Also - I hate to admit an embarrassing guilty pleasure, but can someone tell me what happened on Desperate Housewives? I don't need a blow by blow (was there blowing?!) but if someone died, it would be neat to know.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Leaving Barrow

Days Walking - 0

Finally, it's time to go.

It's warmer today than it has been for a week! We're all packed, breakfast is over, prayers have been said.

We've been fidgeting in the lobby for about ten minutes, trying to make sure we haven't forgotten anything.

I'll keep you guys posted, and let you know where we end up today.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Barrow, Alaska Day 3

Days Walking - Negative 1

Tomorrow is the day we start walking. We'll start an hour before dawn, about 9:30am. If we're going to make 10 miles a day, we're going to have to keep a focused pace without too many stops.

It seems unreal that after planning this trip for almost a year, we start walking tomorrow, and won't stop for five years. Or more. A day will come where I'll have been walking for as long as recent memory can recall. It will be my life. The team will be my family, love them or hate them. And then one strange day, we'll come to the end of the road, where the world ends, or begins, depending on where you started. And what then? On that next morning when I wake up and there's no where else to walk to, what?

Pick a continent, any continent. Now, look at it, no don't show it to me - and stick it back into the deck, anywhere you like. Now shuffle.

Anyway, it's time to meet the team...

~ Anneli G______
Team Engineer, Builder of Bridges
22 years old, of Asbestos, Maine.
Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes, brilliantly bright mind. She's going to be a civil engineer one day. Yes, I gave her a hard time about the name of her hometown, poor girl. What's next, a guy from Cancer, Wisconsin? I don't know about you, but if my town shared a name with a toxic substance, I'd lobby to change the name. If the town can't afford new signage, change the name to "Lasbestos". Tack on an 'L' how hard can it be? Anneli is a determined, focused type of girl who takes no shit and no prisoners. On the day when my blistered feet can carry me no more, and I fall to the ground in a pile of twisted limbs, she will step over my corpse and keep walking. "Leave me! Save yourself!" I'll cry. "Yep." She'll say. Anneli would like Doug to email her. Doug, if you're reading this, drop the girl a line.

~ Litany Webb
Team Chronicler, Bard and Poet
20 years old, of Los Angeles, California.
I guess LA has some pretty toxic associations of its own - "Hey Anneli, sorry for talking trash about your hometown, girlfriend!" and wait for it - - she calls back her standard reply: "F*ck Off, Lit!". Yeah. We have lots of time to become friends. She will love me in the end. Anyway I have a profile and it talks about me and if you can't glean my personality from blog context well I don't know what more I can tell you.

~ Church B______
Team Nurse, Tender of Hospice
19 years old, of Tacoma, Washington.
Church is wearing the newest ensemble from the spring F*cking Cold Collection, showing a grand total of perhaps four inches of creamy skin. Very possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever met. Personality, smarts, looks, whoo nelly. If I was ever tempted to change sides, it would be for Church. She has impossibly clear skin, and the palest blonde hair I have ever seen. Of course, my sweet unsuspecting house of worship doesn't believe in technology, so she'll never read this. Wink! She has this energy in the air around her, and I like to be in that air. She is cool peeps and I want to get to know her better. She's been a volunteer at her uncle's veterinarian clinic and she prefers dogs to cats.

I need to go down to supper so I will finish this later.

Back in a jiffy! - - -

...All right, I admit that 4 hours does not qualify as a jiffy, I apologize.

~ Jake B____
Team Survival Expert, Fixer
23 years old, of El Paso, Texas.
He's short and a little pudgy, but a good guy and very sharp. Capable and confident. He's had a lot of survival training in different climates and has even been an professional survival instructor. He can build a makeshift shelter, start a fire with virtually nothing, and tell you (in exaustive detail) which roots and grubs won't kill you. He'll look better after his hair grows back in, I don't know what he was thinking. Once he walks off a few pounds, I might just be tempted to jump him.

~ Kwame R_______
Team Linguist, Charmer and Player
21 years old, of Pleasant Prairie, Montana.
Kwame is a goodest of fellahs, and even bought me a bottle of wine once. He is one cool calm collected dude, he walked in on Eric and me once a few months ago at what could have been the most embarrassing moment ever, but Kwame he's a smooth operator and deflected the blush, popped a quip, and all was well. He grew up in a genuine cathouse, and knows a thing or two about women. He will be an interesting companion on this trip. He speaks five languages fluently and two more passably. (English, Spanish, French, Portugese, Chinese, German, Gaelic). Foreign languages are hot! Kwame is lanky, shaved bald, and has long slender fingers born to play the piano.

~ Adrian G______
Team Fitness Trainer, Master of Pain, Masseuse
25 years old, of Chicago, Illinois.
Adrain is tight-lipped about his life, feelings, and thoughts, unless the topic is How To Train. Over the past two months, he's dragged our asses out of bed in the pre-dawn gloom, and made us march directly up hills that should properly be described as mountains. When it's more than 45 degrees, you should have ropes, not shoes. He designed our obstacle course, and insisted that we all beat it in 2 minutes or less. Anyone who thinks girls can't climb ropes has not met Adrian. He's the stocky variety of strong that seems like bulk until - you watch him lift an entire tree - with your own eyes. I did.

~ Gabriel N______
Team Equipment Specialist, Biomechanics Engineer
28 years old, of New York, New York.
Gabriel is a poet trapped in the body of a mathematician. His fractals could woo the britches off a spinster encased in solid helium. He approaches the world in an off-kilter angle. The man is trying to apply string theory to build a better hiking boot. That's like trying to build a better mousetrap using a love letter and beeswax. One day he'll invent a backpack that packs itself and keeps your breath minty fresh. Long hair, shaggy beard, sloppy clothes in layers on an unseen frame. Just what are you hiding in there, my man? One day I'll inspect you for tats, head to toe.

~ Caeled B_______
Team Electronic Engineer, IT God
18 years old, of Cordoba, Argentina.
Being born in Cordoba should make any living human sexier than the average bear. However, being born there because your parents were there on Vacation from Iowa doesn't apply. Caeled is a sweetie, but he's your typical lumpen, sun fearing computer nerd. (Those are his words, not mine). It boggles me that we have enticed him this far from a WiFi Hotspot. He's an amazing technical resource, and has encyclopedic knowledge of First Edition D&D. Why he wanted me to mention that in his bio, I dunno.

That's the whole team, the wacky family.
If we all end up in Punta Arena alive, I will be amazed.

(At dinner tonight, Caeled was voted most likely to break a bone.)

Litany Webb, signing off

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