Like An Amateurish Inane Teeny Bopper

Days Walking - 75

My Aunt Terry informed me that my Cousin Terry (her own daughter - why do parents feel compelled to confuse everyone by naming their children after themselves? I mean really) is engaged all right, but with a bun in her oven!

I'm okay with engaged pregnancies, I don't look down on her or anything - but Cousin Terry neglected to mention her state as host to a little creature gestating within. But why would her Mom (Aunt Terry) feel compelled to email the whole family and let us know? That's odd.

The phone call with Lee went ok, we reminisced a bit, but since I was six when the whole thing happened, a lot of my memories of that time are more recollections of what other people have repeated.

Lee was out and about getting sloshed with his peeps, which seems rude but I might have gone that route if I were in civilization, so it was an odd conversation. It did not leave me tingly with the need to call him back any time soon. I also called Dad, and I drew strength more from that conversation than the one with Lee.

Enid - Greets! No, thanks to Deity, we don't have to dwell and sleep begoggled and masked in the shelters or tents to avoid losing our precious flesh. The shelter's primary function is to get us out of the wind, and you can raise the relative temperature a good thirty degrees just by getting out of the wind.

That's not to say it doesn't get friggen cold in the shelters, but we deal with this using light gloves (you need some dexterity during the rest phase to groom, repair equipment, etc) and scarves to create an air layer. It's really surprising what even a small layer of insulating air, trapping your body heat, will do for your comfort (and health!).

Robin - Neat, a dream about me. I was worried about you and am glad to see your blog back to normal. We're friends - Cool! Wait does that mean the marriage proposal has been officially denied? Or are you just waiting for the right moment to break the news to Kevin?

Speaking of blows to my ego, here comes another one...

I finagled Adrian as my tent-mate, and set my wicked plan into action. (The Jump His Bones and Make Him Mine wicked plan) Now, knowing that men are dense and that hinting does not work, I nonetheless spent all day flirting with him.

I walked with him today. I was laughing at his jokes, grinning cutely, preening, looking for excuses to bump into him. You know, all the amateurish, inane teeny-bopper indications that I Would Not Mind A House Call Wink Wink Nudge Nudge.

He didn't get it.

So this evening after the tents were set up, and we'd forced down some warm slop - I think it was oatmeal once - we were talking about his plans for after the trip, and it was a deep, cool, sharing moment...

...And I kissed him. Cutely and impulsively, and then with more meaning. His lips were a bit chapped, and he smelled musky and manly and his beard scratched my face.

And then he pulled away, after a total kiss time of about ten seconds tops, and told me "I really like you - As A Friend." Yeah the dreaded phrase. I've said it to guys, and it never seems cruel unless you're on the receiving end. And then he said he had to pee and left me alone in the tent.

What the hell? Even for a guy, that was rude. Doesn't he know that we have to talk this out? At great length? Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of his life.

After all those neck and foot massages, strong hands kneading, so pregnant with meaning and possibilities and sexual tension and sweet, back-of-the throat 'mmmn' almost-moans, and the knowing smiles, and the hints of more, and he Really Likes Me As A Friend.

It's my own fault, I should not have assumed that he was mine for the jumping. I mean, I don't just want him for the sex he's a really great guy and I thought we might have some kind of future, he's a really hard worker and he's focused and he knows how not to take himself too seriously and he has these muscles that just won't quit. The sight of his back and shoulders, all ripply, makes me quiver, and I mean that. He makes me feel safe and he gets my jokes and I really hoped we could take this to the next level.

But no. I made a fool of myself, and now that I've arranged for him to be my tent-mate, who knows how long the awkwardness will last, avoiding gazes, long empty silences, uncomfortable ugh and it's my own fault.

I'm going to bed.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Freaky Green Alien Llama

Days Walking - 74

Thank you so much for the all the very thoughtful, insightful, beautiful comments and emails of caring and encouragement, you guys. Knowing you folks care does make me feel better!

Sorry about the super-downer post yesterday. I don't think you guys come here to read my posts in hopes to get bummed out. I wonder if there's a programming applet out there I could add to my blog template that would tell me every time someone clicked 'remove from favorites' yesterday. "Forget this depressing bitch, I'm outta here."

All right, Robin - what was with the stealth blog a few days ago - with the freaky green alien Llama? I admit that I laughed, but still. I was all "Eeep!" when I saw what seemed to be no more Robin blog. You did that to me once already, during the last transition, and I was worried then and was again, until I realized, ohh you just 'select all'...

Kthrne - Keep posting! Your blogs are smart and fun and I would miss you if you went away. And yes do give HP a try! You're much brighter than me, but hopefully you will not be sorry.

Kato - Your Bob Evans Klingon sighting description was priceless. Klingons have to drink Iced Tea, because when they order coke and it shows up at the table flat and spent, they have to kill the waitress to maintain their honor. PS Say Hi to The Coat for me.

Our moldform igloo shelter days may well be over. There's not a lot of free room with fresh snow, and we're now in tents. They're two-man tents, so we've got that going in our favor. No more getting kicked in the head by Anneli. It's me and Church right now, but I'm gonna see if I can get Adrian in here instead within a few days. He gives some darned good foot rubs!

The problem with tents is that they're liars. Or rather, the 'approved occupants' number is not very accurate. A two-man tent has room for one person and their junk. Therefore a four-man tent can house two people and their junk comfortably. So we are now dwelling in tents, but not comfortably.

I think you'd have to be on intimate terms with someone before a two-man tent would be comfortable. Hence my desire for a certain male tent-mate. Although if he stinks as bad as I do, I don't know how much getting busy I could take. How did Anneli and Jake manage? Nose-plugs? I'll have to ask her. They're not back together yet, but I think she's entertaining the idea.

I ended up going through with the plan and talking to Joann the other night. I read from my prepared list of questions, and I think it went fine. She doesn't seem to hate me or anything. She asked some lucid questions. Was she reading from a list, too? I didn't ruin Dad's chances, I didn't blurt out that he's a bedwetter (He's not!) or anything. I behaved and was good.

Joann seems nice, though she sounded very young on the phone. And too L.A. - there was a sense of "Like, Oh My God" in her past, I think. I'll have to wait and see, but she might be one of those people who thinks that a to-go Starbucks cup is a trendy fashion accessory:

"Look at me, I can afford $8.50 for a mochachino! Date Me I'm Sexy!"

It's just brown water, dammit.

Litany Webb, signing off

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April 27th Always Tends To Suck

Days Walking - 73

Today is an Anniversary of my Mom's disappearance. Needless to say that April 27th always tends to suck, even if it's an otherwise good day. Her birthday is in June, and you'd think that I'd miss her more then, but no. Today's the day.

The Facts, for the newer readers:
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. Nothing was ever found. No clue, no witness, no idea. Clearly, my mother is dead. But I'm still looking for her.

Dad arranged for a cenotaph for her at the cemetery when I was ten, and he goes there sometimes to talk to her. I've never gone to see it, she's never been there, why would I go? Dad's moved several times since she disappeared, so it's not like I can hang out in her room.

Most of her stuff is gone, but I have one old ratty green sweater that she used to wear. I try not to snuggle with it too much, since then it will smell like me, instead of her. I'm carrying it with me in its own little vacuum bag.

So yeah, I'm gonna call and talk to my brother now. He's an ass, but on the subject of Mom, we agree. Lee (my Bro) was nine when Mom vanished, and so he remembers her a lot better than I do.

Is it wrong that I'm really bitter, angry and jealous with him, for that extra time, all those memories he has that I don't? And do they comfort or torment him?

I like to think that if she could get to know me she'd like me as a person, not just love me for being her daughter. And that she'd be proud. Dad says I got my sense of humor from her. Anyway I'm gonna make it short today and give Lee a call.

Mom, we miss you!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Like Scrubbing Bubbles, But EVIL

Days Walking - 72

That's right Sports Fans, it's another exciting Rest Day!
Let there be much darning of socks, mending of poop tents, scrubbing and air-drying of undies. And let's not forget the ever-popular snow-bath, where you get to rub jagged ice crystals on your smelly parts! Why are the smelly parts always the most sensitive ones? Why??

What I wouldn't give for a smelly elbow.
That would be a piece of cake to scrub.

Mmn, Cake.

We came across a trucker who'd crashed, in a minor way, into the snowbank on the side of the road. We sent Kwame of the Mad Charisma Skillz to approach and greet, and he was rebuffed in a most grumpy manner. I guess if I'd just banged up my truck, I would be kinda peeved too. The guy was alive and well, so it's all good. We just wanted to make sure he wasn't slumped over the wheel, bleeding from the eyes.

I'm supposed to talk to Dad's GF Joann tonight during the "I'm Still Alive" call home tonight. I don't really know what to say... The only things that are coming to mind are curt, abrupt, unkind questions.

I'd better make a list of polite things to say to her tonight, things that don't include "How Do I Know You're Good Enough For My Dad?" or "When Did You Get Out of Prison?". I really don't like being so far away from him while there are romantic goings-on. He oh so desperately needs my guidance, you see. He's just a big kid.

Jake and Anneli have begun diplomatic endeavors, which is heartening. It's like a little robin's nest that I get to watch from my patio, as the eggs incubate with promises of tiny chirpings, fragile young feathers flicking in anticipation of flight. Jake brought her breakfast this morning! It was a sweet overture that will no doubt lead to further talks, perhaps even a summit which will surely lead to a ready climax.

Golly, word-play is fun. It's almost a form of mental masturbation. Is that why I find it soothing? I've found blogging (even in the voice-mail format) very cathartic, and getting feedback from the world is a sweet and reassuring thing. Everyone has been so helpful and encouraging, and it's been a big help to me. Y'all Rock!!

The group is still enjoying a healthful glow. Be afraid, be very afraid. Something Wicked This Way Wends, I tells ya. Plague! Famine! Pellagra! Accidental Orgy Syndrome!

My cousin Terry just got engaged! She's my age. Well, she's already 21, actually. She's going to be married. She's moving forward with her life and her career - well, at least she's in school, and what am I doing?

I talk big, but oh yeah, a freakishly long hiking trip is gonna look great on the resume. Terry will have kids and a house and a dog, 2 PhD's, and a Nobel Peace Prize while I'm still trudging in the middle of freakin nowhere.

Hey speaking of procreating, one of Church's doggies had puppies! Sigh. No matter how early and often the scrubbing ice crystals (like the scrubbing bubbles, but EVIL) burn my nether-regions, I need to remember life goes on. Like with Terry. I hate her so much!! Love. I meant Love. I do, really. Best of Luck to her. Grrrrr.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Tea Parties With Satyrs

Days Walking - 71

It got up to 2° F with the wind chill and 18° without! Yee Haw! I'm so happy about the temperature, you just can't know.

Kato - You? A DM? I never would have guessed! ;o) Nope, no snow dice have been crafted yet - we're making do with the plastic kind. We only have one set to go around, so the whole 'this is my super D20' BS is lacking, and I don't miss that. There's very little dice rolling, it's heavily about role-playing, laughing, and joking around, which is how I prefer my RPG's.

I do miss the munchies factor of typical, at home rpg-ing. The chips and soda and popcorn and whatnot. Trail mix is no kinda substitute for Scoops and Guacamole!

Janine - You wondered about the plotline of our Harry Potter RPG. As I mentioned yesterday, He Who Must Not Be Named and his minions are still out and about, so it's a dangerous time. A lot of wicked deeds are going down, and the magical authorities are busy. This means that a lot of the smaller mysteries are going uninvestigated by the official types.

A number of magical creatures have been found completely drained of their energies in the Forbidden Forest, and this has begun to escalate to humans. Two First Year students have been found in a coma after all of their magic has been drained away (Mugglified). Everyone is under curfew and living in fear and Charlotte (my character) and her homies are trying to solve the mystery.

By the by, anyone who has not read the Harry Potter books really should give them a try. They're very well written, and can be enjoyed by kids and adults alike. They have a classic quality to them, like the Narnia books, but without all the tea parties with satyrs.

Paul - You're one on-the-ball marketer. Kudos, you crazy Kato.

I'm pleased and puzzled to report that no one is currently ill or suffering from any sort of malady. Clearly they are all Replicants sent by Emperor Fabulous to spy on my every move.

That, or this is the calm before a medical emergency storm. They'll name it and everything...

"Hurricane Kali bore down on the POL group without warning today, resulting in loss of limbs, noses, and one left ear. But whose?"

...Tune in at 11.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Comedy Caplets, C.O.D.

Days Walking - 70

I wasn’t gonna talk about this, but not a lot happened today… Adrian, Kwame, Church and I are big dorks, you see. Keep in mind there aint no entertainment out here.

We’ve been playing a pen-and-paper RPG (role playing game) that Adrian and Kwame dreamed up. It’s based on Harry Potter, and I hate to admit two geekisms in one paragraph, but I enjoyed reading the Harry Potter books, and I’m enjoying the RPG.

Adrian is the game master, and the rest of us are players. Our characters are students attending Hogwarts, though Harry and the other familiar peeps are not hanging around -

Our era is before Harry was born, the time when He Who Must Not Be Named is still active, free in the world and causing mayhem. It’s a chaotic time, and it’s interesting to play the game, it’s like getting a glimpse into unwritten prequels.

My character is a First Year student, named Charlotte Gottingworth, and the Sorting Hat put her in Hufflepuff. I was really rooting for Slytherin, but nooo. Right now Mrs. McGonagall (a teacher at the school, for those who don’t know) is really getting on my case, and she needs to step back off my grill.

Robin - Hee hee! If only we had the good drama going on, I tell ya. Apparently, Jake is not without skills in the sack (it’s all that anger) and if our group wasn’t so male-heavy, he probably would have seduced more than one of us.

If only we had the good drama. Then I wouldn’t have to write about Harry Potter. Isn’t a new book coming out in June or July?

Kato - Great comment/scene! How do you do it, how are you so consistently funny? I mean sure, I can quip like one good line every couple of days, but every day? No way. Can your pal Paul A. Davis hook me up with some comedy caplets?

The gaming is a nice diversion, Adrian is a good GM, hard but fair, and he can do good voices when he does other characters. It’s a welcome escape from the stark world of hiking and arctic survival.

The trees are a very welcome addition to the landscape. They scrape the sky with their boughs, and you can no longer stare blankly at the uninterrupted horizon. Their abrupt, soft-edged dark silhouettes now break, with sun-grasping fingers, the bleak expanses of nothing.

Where there are trees there may be squirrels, and birds, and shelter and shade and solace in this place struggling to shrug off a cold indifferent Spring and welcome the sun.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Smart-Assed Sarcastic Whiney Wanna-Be

Days Walking - 69

Remember how Gabe's snowshoe fastener broke a while back? One of mine went POP! today and I nearly fell on my face. Jake once again came to the rescue with his mad knot tying skills. I've been practicing, but I'm no Knot Master. Maybe Knot Acolyte.

Heather - Hmn, interesting suggestion, but I don't know if I want Dad's GF Joann to read the blog without meeting me first. I mean, if you didn't know me and you read the blog, you'd think I was some snide, smart-assed sarcastic whiney wanna-be know-it-all. Which is true, but I don't want to make that kind of first impression.

I mean, what if he really likes her? What if he falls for her? Gulp, what if they're married by the time I get back? Or have children!! Older couples are probably less likely to wait to have kids, if they're gonna have kids it would be really weird to have another brother or sister at this late date.

And how would the wedding work? Obviously I'd have to be there, so would they come to me or would I go to them and how would that effect the hiking? Yeah, lots to contemplate.

Dad's told me about her a bit (they've gone on six dates so far) and she seems cool. She paints a bit and reads a lot. They met at a sea-kayaking class. I've asked for a picture of her - he's described her but I still want to see for myself.

We watched Armageddon on my laptop last night, it's a cheesy but entertaining flick. It epitomizes the American Spirit of blowing sh*t up for the betterment of mankind. Yay America.

I think I'm losing weight, in the not-a-good-thing way. My appetite has been waning lately, especially now that anything appetizing has been consumed, and just the rough and ready blah tasting crap is left. I chew mechanically and swallow, mostly cause they tell me to. I'll try to be better.

Holy Cow! At Dalton Highway mile 235, we've finally found a tree!
Actually, it wasn't a surprise as it is on one of the maps.



The sign reads:
"Farthest North Spruce Tree of the Alaskan Pipeline DO NOT CUT"

Trees are sparce in this area, but there are trees! They're beautiful! They're something different to look at! I'm so happy!

Get this: Anneli kicked me in the head last night as we were sleeping. (She likes to sleep with her head opposite of the way Church and I lay.) So she must have been having some sort of bad dream, the kind where you kick things, and she just hauled off and kicked me.

Luckily she got me in the back of the head but it still smarts. No knot but I'll bet there's a bruised scalp under all this matted lanky stank-ass hair. Another couple of inches and she woulda got my ear.

Church and I have been unsuccessful in our attempts to get Anneli to tell us what's up with her and Jake. Which only makes us wonder if it's about one of us. Did she catch him leering at my buns of steel?

Is that why she 'accidentally' kicked me, 'in her sleep'?

Did Jake call out Church's name during the deed? What what what? The less she talks, the more curious we're getting. Maybe we should just go ask Jake... Or threaten to.

Litany Webb, signing off

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A Rash of Suspicious Coincidences

Days Walking - 68

This just in:
Gabe is well again, yay! And Anneli's rash has begun to clear up suddenly. This suspiciously coincides with her running out of her favorite snack, Ranch Flavored Corn Nuts. (Maybe Jake was arguing with her the other day about her ranch-flavored breath?)

Church is considering the possibility that Anneli's rash was a result of a food allergy. Or mebbe she was allergic to Jake, hmn...

It seems that folks have a lot more food allergies than they realize, and the effects can range from mild to extreme. The weird thing about allergies is that they can develop over time. And something that you've never had a problem with before can suddenly cause a reaction. Funky.

How does a person's body decide one day "I hate Ranch Corn Nuts!"? I'm not allergic to anything, personally. I don't know how you highly allergic people manage. I had a friend in third grade who was allergic to milk, peanuts and bee-stings. Good grief.

I would like to report that we took a temperature reading of 6 Degrees F today, and that was with the wind chill!! Wheeee!

Hey Hey! Give up the love for the Kitty! Who's my baby?



Does anyone else get Gizzard Giggles? I was on the sat-phone with my Dad last night, and he was chiding me (for a personal, completely deserved reason - cause I am bad) and I got the Gizzard Giggles.

...It's when someone you're very close to gives you that special look or grin or tone of voice, and your stomach and innards and yes, gizzard tighten up and quiver a bit for a split second as you feel that "hee hee hee I am loved!" sensation.

Here's a snippet of our conversation:
(Not the chiding, GG portion)

"Did you tell her (Joann) about me?"
"Of course I did."
"What did she say?"
"She said you sounded interesting."
"In the good way or the bad way?"
"Is there a bad way?"
"Of course there is."
"Such as?"
"Well, if you pause as you say 'In...teresting', that's the bad way."
"Oh Yeah, she said it in the bad way."
"Really?!" Dismayed.
"No." Chuckling.
"Aarrrghghhggh!"

Dad likes to push my buttons. You'd think a man in his MID FORTIES would have better things to do. Like tell me he loves and misses me. Which he does of course. Hee Hee Hee!

Litany Webb, signing off

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She Has No Clue

Days Walking - 67

Gabe is still suffering the lingering effects of yesterday's tummy troubles. We're all being sympathetic (during breaks from teasing him) and hopefully he's all better soon.

I mean, Frequent Need To Squat Disorder is a pain while surrounded by the cozy comforts of home. But out here? No thanks. And I have to say, the worst thing about Gabe's FNTS isn't the frequent stops.

Oh no...
It's that there's no such thing as a courtesy flush.

Have I mentioned Jake has a lovely singing voice? We all chime in sometimes, almost as if we're encouraging the movement to uh - move. Today we performed a rousing encouragement medley of The Black Eyed Peas' - "Let's Get it Started".

Wildlife in the area is going to be highly confused by the weird piles Gabe's leaving behind, and like us, other unfortunate humans will be thoroughly dismayed. Perhaps a little warning flag for each one? Or just a big wooden sign in Olde English, 'Hyre Thyr Be Drahgon Poop'.

I'm sorry to make so many jokes of the fecal variety. What Jake calls "Dick and Fart Jokes" which is a phrase I think he stole from Kevin Smith. Shelly dropped me an email to let me know that Kevin Smith is appearing, signing his new book at the LA Times Book Festival. Like I can go or something. Either she has no clue how far away it is (what, am I gonna fly down for the weekend?) or she's a taunting biznitch. I'm going with the latter.

Dad has a Girlfriend! Her name is Joann, and she's a lawyer, she's younger than he is, and I don't know how I feel about this... I don't recall agreeing to a girlfriend. Usually I like to personally vet Dad's lady friends as though they we applicants for Supreme Court Justice. I'll bet Joann's glad that Dad's annoyingly nosey 20 year old daughter is thousands of miles away.

...If Joann even knows I exist. Sniffle. What kind of Dad doesn't talk about his daughter while out on a date? There better be some 8x10 glossies of moi on display at that table! The ladies so love to hear about your fully-grown children. It makes you seem youthful and virile.

Speaking of baggage, Jake and Anneli are on the outs right now. None of us know what happened, they stalked off into the lonesome lands last night to yell at one another. Oh sure, make the love and scream his name for us all to hear, but when you're fighting, get private. And I could go for some good gossip right about now, too. Hmph.

This seems to be Jake and Anneli's first real tiff. It will be interesting to see if they last, if they get back together, and what the whole fight was about. What if she's pregnant and she told him and he freaked out or said the wrong thing?

By the way, guys: anything but 'Unadulterated Joy' is the wrong thing. Of course, we have to be careful how we break the news to our manfolk. Hitching up your shirt, shakin your soon-to-be huge tummy at him, and singing "I Don't Think You're Ready For This Belly" is probably not the best way to spring the news.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Flee From The Squat Progeny

Days Walking - 66

The wind is so much calmer today, like five to ten miles an hour, tops. Happy Sigh of relief. It's actually above zero degrees if the wind stops blowing. Say that slowly and taste it, Above Zero. Huzzah!
I'd do a little jig for ya, but my feet hurt.

Gabe is having the tummy troubles, with the frequent need to squat, if you catch my drift. He just had to eat those Snausages ala Packet. Jakes claims he told Gabe they looked kinda off, but Gabe just had to be brave. Poor fool.

We stopped five times today, just for him. Gotta stop hiking, unpack poop tent, unfurl poop tent, watch poop tent say 'poof!', wait for him to use the poop tent. FLEE from squat progeny, huff into paper bag until hyperventilation subsides, carefully repress the memory, joke about calling Ripley's Believe it or Not, furl poop tent, pack poop tent, recommence hike.

I'd be annoyed, but tomorrow it could be me. Damned hard being a Libra, I tell you! Jake told Gabe he should consider wearing the poop tent like a turtle shell, and then just squatting as necessary. He's a funny boy, that Jake.

Heather - No, I've never snorted aspirin, though I have considered crushing and snorting NoDoz before. The trouble would be, what if I liked it? What if I loved it? What if I became Incest with NoDoz? If it took over my life and next thing I knew I was at support groups:

"Hi My Name is Litany and I Snort NoDoz?"
Some things are so intense and dangerous that either you become utterly traumatized or completely obsessed. That's why I avoided the Mule/Woman Sex show in TJ.

Mike - Thanks for the words of supportfulness! Sorry I've been so whiney lately, that has to get old for you guys. You're right, the downers about the trip so far will fade, summer is coming, and people, sights, and the wonders of nature are just around the corner.

I can't wait!! Why is anticipation always sweeter than the final result? Of course, warmer weather means rutting caribou and scary clouds of bugs will create a whole new flavor of hell for us. Mmn, minty. I'm not so excited about that...

Cheesecakey - Thanks for the encouragement!! At least this time you're not encouraging me to be bad... :o) You guys are good to me!

Except for Kato - Bad Kato! You know what you did.

Robin - I love your Spoon Wars pic!! You have skills! 'Spoon Wars' is the desktop on my laptop right now. You should send the pic to a Star Wars fan art site, they love that kind of stuff.

Woah, this Wacked Ackian Woman burned her man alive. She should have just gifted him with a case of Spekk-Schlong. Can you just picture it? He comes out of the shower and she's standing there in elbow-high rubber gloves and a big hunk of seal blubber. She's hidden the towels and she's comin for his privates... Much better than fire.

Litany Webb, signing off

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High on Suffering

Days Walking - 65

It's a darned good thing today falls on a rest day. We've got 35 mile an hour gusts, shelters that are threatening to collapse, and everyone is dug in, hunkered down against the weather. You know how I said it blows more than it snows? Yeah, today it seems like it's doing both.

It's the wind, carrying the wind-blown snow. You'd think the snow would run out eventually, like one of those cans of spray-snow for Christmas decorating? Wherever it's blowing from should be swept bare by now, down to the stark cold granite rib-bones of the earth.

Another interesting factoid the U.S. Army Survival Guide mentions is 'spekk finger', which you can get from handling seal skins and blubber?

Sharon, my arctic amigo, is this true?
It seems that the infected, unsuspecting fleshy region swells up painfully, becomes taut and shiny, and then gets squishy. For a long time, the only treatment was amputation, shudder, and now of course antibiotics, but there is no cure.

I don't get it - The Most Excellent Native Peeps have been making use of seals for thousands of years, what the whoo ha? Is this just a symptom of the foolish white man not knowing proper handling techniques?

I've never heard of Spekk Finger before. Sounds like a rude gesture you'd learn during a vacation in the Ukraine. Church seemed only somewhat familiar when I mentioned it, and she studies up on arctic maladies almost daily. Also, it seems that once you have the illness, it comes back to haunt you every few years, even if the offending finger / limb is amputated. Good grief.

Can you imagine?
You're the wife of a seal hunter, and he Does You Wrong. You don't cut off his pecker, instead you sneak into the bedroom with some Spekk-Infested seal flesh and rub it all over his privates. That'll learn him to cheat on you! Dayum.

Shelly always said I would end up in prison some day, for all my evil thoughts. I don't do the stuff, but I can't help thinking it.

You guys are seeing the weirdest ads. Good grief I mention agar once and days later it's still an ad. It's no wonder I'll never make any money from AdSense - the stuff that comes up might be occasionally amusing, but Mad Cow Disease?

Oh yeah that's gonna get a lot of clicks. Maybe I should just offer my blog up for some porn ads. That's where the clicks are baby. Sex websites are great, online erotica woo! Maybe if I talk about them some good ads will show up... I'm joking, I don't think Blogger would allow such a thing anyway.

Speaking of AdSense, it seems that a good fifty people a day are dropping by to read the blog - (unless they're just unfortunate souls who ended up here through the 'Next Blog' button) and like 5 people take the time to comment. Come on you lurkers, speak up! Cheer, Boo, something.

I wish I could tell you guys that I ramble into Marina's voicemail in a composed, savvy, off-the cuff manner. Not so. I have a spiral bound notebook that I jot notes in before I call, so I make some semblance of sense and don't jump around too much. Good thing too - yes, it could be worse.

I used to write in this notebook back in Los Angeles, before this crazy nightmare started. Here's an excerpt from my journal, November of 2004:

"It's a lazy Sunday, and things are coming together nicely for The Expedition. Brad is definitely out. We'll need a medical guy. Girl. Person. Robot, whatever.

I've been paging through the Sunday Los Angeles Times, (it's all about the Calendar section), eating Triscuits, and half-watching French Kiss in Espanol on HBO Latino. It amuses me to watch Meg Ryan go into a tizzy in Spanish, while I can't understand a word but know exactly what's going on because I've seen the movie ten times.

Oh My Goodness, I just realized I ate the entire box of Triscuits over a three-hour period. Ugh I'm a pig. I guess it could be worse, it could have been cookies or a tub of lard. It's that watching - reading - hand - mouth reflex.

We're supposed to go see a movie with Eric's parents tonight. Some comedy. I don't know why they want us to go, at least at a dinner you can chat. I can sit quietly for ninety minutes at home. I never saw going to a movie as a social thing - except with very good friends. There's no talking, what kind of social occasion is that?

I'm all dreamy about The Expedition... I won't shut up about it and Eric's been very patient but I can tell he's getting tired of hearing about it. Anticipation!! It's hard not to ramble about all the sights and people, and places, all the unspoiled nature, the animals..."

What a fool I was.
So far the trip has been high on suffering, low on sights, people and animals. It's like when we think about history, the past, and how the simpler life was good and sweet and deep and meaningful.

No! Their lives were horrible, they were unhappy. It wasn't a vacation from ringing phones for them, it was a life of tedium, hard work and boredom. Infant mortality was like 80%! Talk about post-partum, yikes! Life was hell for people in the past. (And yes, for a lot of people in the present)

At least now we have cathartic diversions - like blogging for instance.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Den Of Edgy Female Irkfulness

Days Walking - 64

...It's like the House of a Thousand Corpses, but smaller.

I did me some journalism in school and now I'm a big snob when I read papers (cause my grammar and diction are ever so propah) and I had to laugh when I read this:

Light earthquake jolts Southcentral Alaska
"A light earthquake jolted Southcentral Alaska Sunday afternoon, ripping through Anchorage and surrounding areas."

Can a light earthquake go ripping through? That's like saying "A gentle breeze ravaged through Kansas today..." It was only a 4.9, and I'm from Los Angeles, so uh yeah, we had a few hundred quakes a month. I'm jaded when it comes to tremors.

On the Medical Front, no one has suffered from frostbite lately! We should have one of those changeable signs with 'X Days Since a Frostbite Disaster'. Anneli's rash is still lingering, though it hasn't spread. She's tried different soaps, using the wet naps, not using the wet-naps, no improvement. As long as I don't get it.

Kwame's sister will have her hearing tomorrow. I'll bet she'll be glad when it's over. I know Kwame will. He doesn't sleep well when he's not worrying about loved ones spending years in prison. And this has not been an improvement.

Since I can't have a spoon of amazing glowingness - Darth Robin, I didn't mean to say your spoon was useless - it would be useless to me, since I am sans milk. And cereal. Sniffle. I tried to at least work on my blog template a bit. I wanted to do the peekaboo comments thing. I followed all of the instructions to the letter, and nothing happened.

You'd think it would have royally screwed my blog if I'd done it wrong, but no - it was exactly the same. I successfully republished, but nothing. So obviously I did something incorrectly. I pasted the old template code back in there, and saved it. Screw it. Maybe my template is not friendly to that hack. Whatever.

It's interesting that Kato is the Jedi of the readers. Robin, who knew? Maybe smokers are automatically e-vited to The Dark Side? (and G-Mail?)

Rrrh!! Have I mentioned lately that Church is the bitchiest bitch that ever did bitch? It's true. I'm sure she feels the same way about me. And to think I missed rooming with her. The days of her bringing me hot cocoa (ok, it only happened once) are long gone. And Anneli. Psht don't even mention that name.

The three of us now have synchronized cycles, and today there were three very grumpy bitches berthing together in this teeny den of edgy female irkfulness. Redrum redrum REDRUM.

Or Peach Schnapps, you know. Whatever.

As I was digging through the bags last night looking for the backup satellite system battery - which I still have not found, I'm beginning to think they have hidden it from me out of spite - I came across a bottle of aspirin. It made a funny, non-rattling noise when I shook it, so I (redrum!) opened it up. Turns out, all the jouncing around in the bottle turned the tablets into powder. Mebbe that's what the cotton was supposed to be for, I've always wondered.

Right now (redrum!) I am eating Ramen and craving Pho. That's a Vietnamese soup, by the way, and it's a delicacy - in my book, at least. If you've never had it, I heartily recommend that you dash down to the nearest purveyor of such freshly cooked foreign goods and try it immediately.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Read My Lips - Aint No Trees

Days Walking - 63

Yay! My kitty is feeling much better, Daddy reports. I’ve asked him for a new picture of her and when he sends it, I’ll post it for you guys (cause seeing my kitty is high on your list of priorities, I’m sure).

As we’re getting closer to the Brooks Range, we’re definitely getting closer to the wolves. The howling is not as new and surprising as it was the first night we heard it, but it’s no less unsettling.

These covert canines are now sending secure burst transmissions in the form of highly modulated howls, updating their kill squads per our location. Ah well - I’ve begun to accept my fate as food. At least I’ll serve some useful purpose. And have an interesting death. It’s all about the dramatic demise.

Also - WTF, everyone has a freakin SaberSpoon but me. Pout. See? It’s useless, beautiful glowing material goods that are the source of all my misery. I’d seriously consider casting off all my worldly goods and wander nude in the wilderness until I attain enlightenment - if said act wouldn’t kill me from hypothermia in 30 seconds.

I’m re-reading the U.S. Army Survival Manual, which is a good read by the way. The section about arctic survival is interesting but it assumes a bit too much - -

- - Every other sentence lapses into a description about using “pine needles, leaves, moss, pine boughs, or grass.” - - Um. Dear Mr. Army Manual Writing Man, I hate to break it to you, but I’ve been hiking for sixty-three days, and I have not seen a tree or blade of grass in all that time. Perhaps in the updated Survival Manual, you could include a segment about regions above the treeline. No offense or anything.

Also, according to the manual, if you kill and eat a bearded seal or polar bear, do not, do not under any circumstances eat the liver - it contains a dangerous concentration of Vitamin A.

Hmn, there’s a way to murder an arctic amigo - dose them up with Vitamin A pills until they croak. Then I could scatter some seal cutlets around before law enforcement shows up. Bwa ha ha.

I cranked my ass off last night, and today my iPod came back like it was raised from the dead, with the Jitterbuggin and the joy. It poured its little musical heart out, and lasted a good eight hours!

All it needed was some love.

Litany Webb, signing off

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AGHIIGHHIRRRGH!!

Days Walking - 62

That was a wordless scream of desperation and fury. I'm close to making some sort of drastic, ill-considered life choice. Like taking up religion. If there was a cult group up here, I'd join.

Maybe I'm just thinking too much. Too much yearning - especially for what you can't have, can leave a person bitter and pissed off. A little inner peace would do me good. Observe the natural order, and follow its example.

Problem is, everything here is frozen and dead. I'm not feeling the vibe of that example. Another way to look at this world would be calm and still. The only thing that isn't calm is the wind blowing the snow. And the misty snow flows along the ground with a fluid philosphy. Maybe I need to be more fluid in my thinking.

Fluid in my thinking... In my Plotting to Kill Them All. Gabe first. I'll get him to come out of the shelter at night, and draw him away from camp... Ice-pick into his jugular, and pift, one less soul to annoy me. And the next night, Kwame...

Wouldn't it be horrible if this turned into a murder blog? Every day, another of my hiking buds would lose thier life in some diabolical way. Hah! That would be great. You guys would be powerless to stop me, ha ha ha ha ha!! Would you be entertained or horrified?

Thanks for the uplifting words of encouragement, oh my thoughtful readers. I'd wish you were here instead of these assh*les, but then I like you too much to wish this kind of life on you. Heather, very sweet of you to offer to send me caffeine! Any place with a post office will have a store too. As for the Desparare Housewives, I think I'll just wait till the walk is over and get all the DVDs from Netflix.

Speaking of cults, I wouldn't mind starting one of my own. The laborers could toil in the fields for my edification, and all of the most delicious boys would relax in my harem. I'd avoid the common cult mistake and keep my AK47 collection to a minimium. And the true thing that would keep turnover low - a damn fine 401K.

I gave my iPod a thorough charging last night, and it managed to put out tunes for about four hours before it died. Ugh. 4 hours is a lot better than 30 mins, but still ugh. Right in the middle of 'The Rhythm is Gonna Getcha'.

Still have a headache, it'll probably be a couple of more days until my caffeine addiction wears off. A couple more days of self-inflcited suffering - because yes, it is my fault - and then I won't be crying for my fix any more.

I can't help but notice that the majority of the things I listed yesterday as desperate desires are material things or luxury items. I'd probably be a lot happier if I could learn to cast of the yoke of capitalist oppression, and so on. I could become an arctic ascetic, pondering deep thoughts and solving the mysteries of the universe.

...Nah.

Oh yeah, here's a picture.
Thanks for putting up with my bitchyness.



Meet Caeled. The wind is gonna bite his nose off if he aint real careful, yes it is. That's a good wind. Shhhhh don't tell him, you'll ruin the fun.

Litany Webb, signing off

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With Fresh Coconut Milk

Days Walking - 61

Wow Kato! I didn’t know you took requests -
Dropping $5 in Kato’s tip jar - your lyrics kick ass as per usual!!
You’re spoiling us terribly, you know that.

The Prudhoe oil spill wasn't as bad as they thought at first, that's cool. You there, in the back, with the yawning - Am I boring you with my Adoration of the Environment? Huh? Beat it, you.

My iPod crapped out after like 30 minutes this morning. Looks like I picked the wrong day to run out of caffeine. Slogging along listening to the wind, trucks go by, and my companions blathering was damned grating. Just about every item we have with a battery in it is getting really wonky lately. Still haven’t found the backup battery for the satellite system.

Since I took the last of my caffeine this morning, from now on you can expect boring, low-energy posts. Just give up on me immediately and go surf some porn. Go on, enjoy.

I have a headache. This may be caffeine withdrawal talking, but I’m sick and tired of wind, snow, hiking, and Gabe’s annoying laugh. Damn dude, it’s not that funny.

Also, caffeine.

I just want a warm bed to curl up in, and some hot potato cheese soup from Claim Jumpers - the kind that comes in the scooped-out sourdough bread bowl that you can devour when the soup is gone. And a hot fudge brownie with gourmet vanilla bean iced cream on top. And a tall Cherry Coke - the good kind, with grenadine.

And to curl up in my tattered flannel blankie and Space Channel 5 slippers on the floor in front of the TV and watch all the episodes of Desperate Housewives that I’ve missed.

And go to the mall and people-watch and sight-see all the lovely boys.

And I want to find some quality companionship and have a lucid conversation with someone that does not involve arctic survival, life and death seriousness and pooping in f*cking tents. All the people in my group are assh*les. Yes you heard me Gabe YOU’RE ALL ASSH*LES!

You know those questionnaires where they ask “If you were marooned on a desert island, and you could only have one companion, who would it be?”

Here’s my advice: Pick someone you could easily beat in a fight. Let them help you build the shelter and dig the well, then smother them with a pillow and eat them. People suck, you’ll be happier living alone.

And their bones can be fashioned into useful tools.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Trading in Delicious Disease

Days Walking - 60

Hey wow I'm not sick at all anymore. Adrian's getting better fast. Too fast. I think I must have transmitted the antibodies to him as a pheromone. Darned my pro-active, helpful immune system.

You know, you'd think that micro-organisms would wise up and realize that it's not that we mind having them - we could be friendly as hosts, if they would just be smart about it. And they've had millions of years to adapt. They've developed a resistance to antibiotics in less than 100 years.

All they have to do is provide a benefit - then our immune system could chill out, live and let live. Microorganisms need to enhance our endorphins, boost a sense of well-being, deliver some yummy hormone. Bigger breasts, better memory, clear skin...

Why can't we say "Holy Shit, I must have that new virus, I feel amazing!!" And you'd avoid antibiotics, grab a machete and fend off well-meaning relatives bearing juice and broth.

"No! I want to keep this one!" You'd insist.

You would run to the drug store and get a petri dish with some sterile agar and do your best to breed your bug. Tending it carefully, lovingly. The best viruses would start circulating on eBay, and everyone would have a great time trading in delicious disease until The eBay Enforcers cracked down on the practice.

Pushers on street corners:
"Hey man, Hey - I got some good sick man!"

People would start their own websites to peddle the stuff. You'd get your special order microbes in the mail, drop the utility bills and junk mail in a pile at your feet, tearing the package open with your teeth, ignoring the warning label.

You start lapping licking the spotty agar like a lucky lover, feeling your tongue tingle as the pleasant plague went to work.

"Ohhh yeah, I got germs!!"

You'd want to share with your lover...

You want to get down, get freaky, get contagious.

...And soon the Urban Dictionary would need a new entry:

"Cootie Call"

Litany Webb, signing off

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Money For My Morels

Days Walking - 59

I just ate the very last Cheerio Oh of the Honey Nut Cheerios that Dad sent to Deadhorse for me. I tried to be careful. They were ever so tasty. I would keep fifteen Cheerio Oh's in a ziplock in my pocket and nibble them slowly during the day, and now they are gone. Waaaah.

Speaking of the Prudhoe Bay area, glad we missed this bit of fun. And for those of you interested in still more Ackian News, here's some fresh words regarding The Dalton Highway.

We watched The Matrix on my laptop last night, everyone took turns cranking. Such a work of art. It's too bad they never made any sequels. But, what could ever match up to the movie? It's best as a stand-alone, so it's good that the Wachowski's died in that plane crash the night after the debut of the movie.

And Star Wars. Good thing Lucas never went ahead and made the prequels. What could compare to the originals? And Highlander. Glad they never made any sequels to that. And Star Trek. Wait, Wrath of Kahn was good. Never mind. Kato - Star Trek 6? Come on naow.

We three girls are now sheltering together, as God intended. It's nice to be able to change clothes without often asking your cohabitants to 'Avert Your Eyes, Boys'. Personally, I peek. They probably do too.

Robin - Mmn, dijon mustard sounds good right about now. I totally agree with your dream analysis. Want to be my shrink? I could start sharing the truly scary dreams, if you guys can stand it. I don't know that Marina could stand to type them.

Kato - I didn't know there were coyotes in Ohio! Yes, it is a very creepy sound. We have mountain lions in California, but they don't howl in the night, thank goodness. Sleeping Beauty - blush - you flirt. No I'm Merryweather - the pudgy fairy in blue.

Heather - That Caucasian hash link was weird! The wacky things people will do. It would have been pretty damned funny if Kwame had broken Lucy's windshield. What if she chose to run him down? Now there's a road report worth tellin.

Sharon - Condoms / Birth Control: Jake and Anneli were able to restock while in Deadhorse, thank goodness. Where they find the energy to get busy so often, I dunno. Granted, I talk about being horny too often, but I don't know how energetic I'd be on most evenings...

Cheesecakey - Don't encourage me!! Bad Cakey! Glad you liked the pics - the mountains look very cool in person, with misty snow creeping down the curves. Can't appreciate that in a still.

Kthrne - No angry emails from men named Frank. Yet. They have been surprisingly laid back in my depiction of their devouring of humans.

Mike - Ooh, Making money for mushrooms, eh? Hmmn. I wonder how you know which are edible and which are poisonous? Seems like most mushrooms will kill you. Exactly how did primitive man figure out which varieties were ok to eat? Eat just a sliver and see if you get sick? Or experimentally feed different ones to the village death row inmate? Watch the animals and see which ones they ate, possibly.

Hmn, it would be interesting to earn cash on the walk, just for picking some mushrooms as we pass. Money for my Morels... Would that make me a sell-out? Hee Hee!

Seriously though, I think it's all about 'selling out'. The term has such a negative connotation, and from where? You bust your ass for years and years to become known in your field or industry or genre, and the minute you sign a contract which will give you the money and time to explore your art, you're a sell out. Whatever. Give me the money, thank you. People can gossip about my selling out all they like, and I'll be able to pay the bills while I get my create on.

Did I see a news thing about Star Wars toilet paper the other day? All right, that's when you're a sell-out. That's when you know.

We interrupt this post to bring you a low-self-esteem panic attack.
I was reading your wonderful, delightful insightful and damn funny blogs last night, wondering why the hell you waste your time reading mine. Good grief - Shouldn't you guys be our there Curing Disease, Entertaining the Troops on a USO Tour, or Solving World Hunger? Go! Leave me. I'll remember you all fondly on my deathbed.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Your Sisters The Buttocks

Days Walking - 58

Rest Day!
We've pushed it a bit, if we were hikers obedient to the plan, we woulda rested on Day 56. But we all agreed to push on. The longer days help us restore more energy overnight.

Kwame's penance is ongoing.
He's performing his chores uncomplainingly, but you should see this man on Pee Bottle Duty. It's like he's a devout anti-urea zealot, and should the tiniest droplet of yucky pee-pee touch his person, well No Heaven For Him. I'm careful when I empty the bottles, but I don't treat it like the flesh eating virus. It takes him forever, good thing he gets up early.

The satellite uplink has really been getting on my nerves lately. It's died on me just now for no reason - wait - twice in a row. And then here it is, working just fine. I'm worried that it might be the battery. We're supposed to have a backup battery, but no one can find it. I might have to spend a few hours digging for it. It's not all that big, so there's no telling where it's ended up. If we still have it, sigh.

A chopper flew over our camp twice today, and we've been fearing the appearance of security or law enforcement. We talked about strategies, should we be approached. They could try to round us up and take us in, especially if its all "You can't camp here", cause what are we gonna do, load up our Jeep and drive away?

So if the authorities try to wrangle us, we've decided to scatter. Yeah that's the ticket. We'll use our mad tundra skills to blend into the landscape. You know, crouch behind a pingo or a wolf or something.

"- - Thanks for the help, Frank. You can eat me later, ok? Or just a snack - Maybe just take a little off the hips?"

I tell you, my ass is now tight as hell from all this walking, I could juggle quarters with my ass. But the hips, why do they have to be so stubborn? Why can't you be more like your sisters, the buttocks?

Of course, if we scatter, the authorities will have no other choice but to hunt us down by helicopter like wayward caribou. And we have a plan then too. See, when they tranquilize animals from choppers, the animals are scared and keep running. But we'll be zigging and zagging. A chopper can't turn on a dime. Just stop running, heh.

I'm joking. Obviously we would politely obey the authorities. They have heaters in those trucks. Sweet sweet incarceration.

The really terrible thought is, what if they load us up in the paddy wagon and take us back northward? Even worse, what if they take us south? As a Grandma, I'd be in my rocking chair, telling my grandkiddies about The Pilgrimage, and I'll have to admit that there was a 100 mile stretch where Grandma caught a reluctant ride from The Alaskan Highway Patrol.

"Did you really walk all the way to Chile, Grandma?"

"Um, yeah... Sure... Here's a drum set. Go annoy your Daddy."

We are nearing the Brooks Range, which is popping out of the tundra like an afterthought. Usually you get foothills before you get mountains. Not this time. Some overtasked deity muttered "Oh yeah, I was gonna put a mountain range here."

Plunk.



Pretty, huh?
Most likely, this is where the jovial wolves are waiting to devour us.



We're back to close-quarters sheltering, and somehow I'm now with Adrian and Caeled. Why isn't it me, Church and Anneli? How did this happen? Tomorrow I'll make sure we girls end up together. I'd been half-seriously considering seducing Adrian - it's been on my mind since the dream yesterday.

Perhaps just a little harmless snogging, hmm? It won't go any further. Well maybe some heavy petting. Who don't appreciate them some petting now and then?

And now Caeled has to join us. Maybe it's for the best. I know I shouldn't go starting things with these boys, but I have needs and no privacy. When I lose it one of these days and thoroughly and deliciously jump someone's bones, I know I'll be sorry. Afterward.

They don't prepare you for things like wanton lust in the hiking guide books - I know - I checked the index.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Smell Those Yummy Humans

Days Walking - 57

There was something new last night -
The Heady Palpable Fear of Wolves Howling, echoing, mocking us. You can't really pin down where it's coming from, or how far away they are. You're cringing in the shelter, and you can swear it's getting closer. It was freaking scary. There wasn't even a full moon. What are they discussing out there?

'Hey, Larry - do you smell those yummy humans?'

'Yeah, Frank - let's go eat a couple, no one will miss them.'

'Let's spook em for a night or two - I like my meat freaked out'

'Aww yeah' Licking chops in anticipation.

(Eeeep!)

The sun doesn't set until around 9:50PM - we get a pretty decent increase in daylight now - like 4 minutes more per day. Yay, Spring. The temp sure hasn't improved much, but we'll take all the daylight we can get. More daylight means we can sleep in a bit later and still put in a respectable amount of hiking each day.

As you know, we're hiking along side The Dalton Highway, but we usually stay off the road to avoid getting squished.

Usually.

But every day, about two hours before sunset, is something we call Golden Hour. I don't know how the truck's departure schedule works from Deadhorse, but about eight o'clock the number of trucks heading southbound dwindles to none - for about an hour.

This means that we can freely use the southbound lanes with near impunity (we still keep a lookout) and make some really good time for that hour.

We are a silly, silly group of people - I am so blessed that they are as goofy or more so than I am - but you should hear us whooping and cheering as we zip along on the road. We have to invent our own entertainment, and an hour with no trucks before we have to make camp is pretty damned entertaining.

Speaking of making camp, one of our shelter moldforms crapped out. The moldforms are one of the prototype designs that Gabe is testing.

Well Design Peoples, we can tell you that they worked pretty well for fifty-six days, but their weakness is the inflatable bladders. Just like any inflatable device, it's just a matter of time before the inevitable, unrepairable leaks ruin the item. (Adrian mentioned the original Reebok Pump basketball shoe?)

We've tried to upkeep the moldforms, but patching leaks in the freakin cold is difficult. Anyone who's patched a bicycle tire can tell you that smearing that epoxy stuff is a pain. Well any chemical hardening agent is gonna be impaired by low temperatures, neh?

I'm gonna make sure Gabe recommends that the designers add that liquid goo inside the bladders, like the newer self-healing bike tires have. Though cold temps would probably be a problem there too.

People just aren't meant to live in the cold, I tells ya! So now we're down to one functional moldform, and it's gonna take longer to set up camp. Which means we'll have to stop hiking earlier, so that cuts into Golden Hour. And we might decide to go back to three shelters instead of four, meaning we'll have to go back to three people in two shelters, and two in the third. We'll rotate, but Ugh.

Kwame's sister Janet has been scheduled for a court marshal hearing. It seems they like to bust your ass down to Private, then kick you out or imprison you. Nice. Do not mess with the Military, I mean yikes. I feel sorry for this woman - at the least, a dishonorable discharge is gonna follow her for the rest of her life.

In other news, I had a sexy dream about Adrian last night. We were in the food court at Del Amo Mall, waiting to get a lemonade from Corn Dog on a Stick. I was dressed in a prom dress and Adrian was wearing shorts, flip-flops, and had a surfboard.

He was standing behind me in line, nuzzling my neck and earlobe so softly, sweetly, and suggestively. He was whispering naughty position proposals that I giggled at, oh I could never... And then it segued into job interview. He was wearing a suit and I still had the prom dress on, and he was asking which programming languages I was proficient in. Um...None?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Poor Lil Meow Meow

Days Walking - 56

The Daddy informs me that my kitty has a bladder infection. Her name is Maleficent and she’s a Russian Blue - I’m sure I’ve mentioned her before. Anyway Dad took her in to the vet and now she’s on meds and should be fine. It’s a very sad feeling to know that my little one is so far away, and is ill and cranky. Hugs, little one! If I feel sad and guilty for my kitty, I can’t imagine having sick children and not being able to be with them.

While he cannot be bothered to clean a cooking pan, Adrian’s OCD clicks in at frustrating moments. Every morning, he has to roll and stow his sleeping bag and other implements just so. That would be fine, except he also feels obligated to give me a constant stream of commentary, critiques, pointers and other related harassment while I stow my own gear. Daily. It’s as if he believes that constant badgering will change me in some way.

He don’t know who he dealing with, clearly. I’ve been packing my stuff every morning for almost a couple of months now, give me a break. I miss Church.

My cold’s better, I have reverted to the sinus pressure stage and as long as I don’t, you know - move my head - it doesn’t hurt too badly. The Hum turned out to be a symptom of my cold, and so I'm not suffering from psychosis - at least, not that one.

We’re supposed to get news on Kwame’s sister Janet’s situation tomorrow, and I’ll let you guys know what the word is.

This morning I ran out of my seasoning salt. Eric used to make it at home, and I had him make me a big travel-shaker of it before I left. It’s more garlic powder than anything else, with some kosher salt and some seasoned pepper mixed in too.

The seasoning salt has the supernatural ability to make any food taste better, (magical +2 bonus for flavor) and I have hoarded it jealously. I guess that’s why I only just now ran out. I’ll miss it. Maybe I can convince Eric to mix me up some more, if he can climb off Shelly for two seconds.

Is it really flirting to let your shelter mate give you a foot rub? I know all about what they say in Pulp Fiction, but it does feel sooo good. It’s not like I don’t reciprocate. Adrian might have annoying packing and harassment habits, but also he has some strong hands.

Litany Webb, signing off

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No Moleste Por Favor

Days Walking - 55

I’m feeling a bit better today. Almost no coughing now. Adrian’s feeling quite a bit worse. I told him that when his yellow spew phase comes along, he’s can’t allow the group to break for his benefit. I swallowed gallons of that sh*t while hiking and he better too, or I’ll tell everyone that he’s ticklish. I’ll do it!

Kwame vanished in the night.
Caeled - who’s sheltering with him right now - came looking for Kwame at about 5AM and woke us all up. There are only so many shelters, so it didn’t take long to search the campsite.

The last person to see Kwame was Caeled at about midnight. Now, we have pretty stringent safety rules about talking a walk alone into the freakin wilderness at night - Don’t do it!

…And if you just gotta step out alone for a brief moment (must be nice to be male) make sure someone knows that you’re going. There aren’t any people-swallowing crevasses lurking around, but there is still plenty of danger.

So at 5:03AM, we’re looking for Kwame. We started at the shelter, all creaky, tired, and grumpy. No note, no tracks leading away from camp, no half-eaten corpse. We were at a loss. The sun doesn’t come up until like 6:15. Short of yelling and yelling his name, not much we could do until sunrise without a couple of bloodhounds.

The sun came up eventually. Still no visible tracks. The wind was blowing pretty good, so unless he flew away, the tracks got blown over/covered.

When something shady goes down in civilization, the police canvas the area and question everyone in an x block radius. Since there’s no one out here (excuse me Mr. Bear, have you seen our friend and how did he taste? Bit salty? Sorry to hear that.) So we headed to the Dalton Highway and hoped not to find a squished corpse.

No squished corpse…
There was a truck pulled off into the snowy shoulder of the road, a big yellow Freightliner. So what else to do? We knocked. I was expecting a haggard, unshaven trucker with a shotgun and an attitude.

It was a woman, and she came to the party without her shotgun. She had long brown hair, was holding a cup of coffee, and was wearing a long-sleeved blue flannel shirt.

She greeted us with a cheery “Good Morning!”

(I hate morning people).

You could feel the heat pouring out of the cab when she opened the door, oh my lordie, what it must be like to have a heater. You tend to forget pretty quickly what it’s like to be comfy and warm.

When you’re freezing your ass off day and night, the idea that somewhere people are sweaty-snoozing in the nude with a fan blowing on them seems like science fiction.

She turned her head - “Kwame, your friends are out here and they look worried.” and then she turned back to us. “I’m Lucy. Do you like pancakes?”

Gabe, the knocker, looked back at the rest of us in surprise. “Uhm, yeah.” So we all enjoyed Aunt Jemima Mini-Microwaveable Pancakes (heated in a skillet on a hotplate) and coffee and hot apple cider. Caeled, reveling in our excess, inquired after hot cocoa, but no such luck.

Lucy was very cool and let us all pile into her cab. It was amazingly toasty warm and spacious - we actually fit, if barely.

It was very difficult to be pissed at Kwame in the face of a yummy hot breakfast and a warm environment in which to eat it. He was dressed when we arrived thank god. His first words were “Hey guys.”

We threw Kwame lots of “What the F*ck!” glares, but no one was willing to jeopardize a hot breakfast by making a scene.

Lucy freights cargo between Fairbanks and Deadhorse, and a good portion of it is laundry, work clothes for the oil teams and jumpsuits and the like. There are a few thousand workers, working all sorts of shifts, so you can imagine that the dirty clothes build up fast.

Laundry. I can’t imagine how much gas her truck burns, but it has to be a lot. You can’t tell me that it wouldn’t be more efficient to build a laundry room in Deadhorse. We had a laundry room at the hotel. Why not one for the workers? Just odd.

When we told Lucy good-bye, we finally had the chance to give Kwame the tongue-lashing he deserved for making us all worry like that. I mean damn, for a good hour we all thought he might be dead.

He apologized over and over. He’s got food prep and pee bottle duty for the next two weeks as penance. I tried to hit him with some cranking time, but no go.

While we were all pissed at Kwame for scaring us like that, there was a certain amount of reluctant respect for the man’s charms.

It seems this is how it went down: It was like 1AM, and Kwame is lying there awake (he has insomnia - have I mentioned that before? The whole thing with his sister has not helped).

And out of the great white nothing, Kwame hears music - a Bach sonata. Is it in his head? He would ask Caeled, but he’s asleep. The sound persists. It’s Bach, and it’s coming from outside.

Kwame stepped out of the shelter and listened. Definitely real. So he followed the sound to the road and found Lucy’s truck.

“What did you do?” Adrian asked the question I was thinking - “You can’t just walk up and knock at like 1AM.”

It turns out that Kwame stood at a respectable distance in front of the truck and threw a couple of snowballs at the windshield. Lucy hit him with the headlights, and then they ended up striking up a conversation about Classical music.

He is so lucky - Instead of Lucy, it could have been Frank, the angry hiker molester with a taste for human flesh. No Moleste, Por Favor.

Now, Kwame swears that he and Lucy didn’t do anything more than stay up all night talking and listening to music, then passed out about 4AM. The other guys are all chuckling and suggestive, ‘heh heh heh’ but it’s probably true. Lucy didn’t kiss him good-bye or anything.

I don’t know how Kwame does it. I have reasonable social skills, but I’m really held back by my desire to not pester other people. This is probably born of my intense dislike of people pestering me. Don’t knock on my door, don’t try to sell me chocolate as I’m coming out of K-Mart, don’t talk to me. Don’t pester me, I won’t pester you and it’s all good. I may have spoken to Lucy if it was daytime, and she was outside working on her truck or something.

But to throw snowballs, possibly waking someone up and then strike up a conversation in the dead of night, Never! Never short of an emergency. I dunno. I don’t think I could ever be so bold.

Does Kwame have a mastery of social charisma - Or a total lack of common sense? Something of both, perhaps.

Litany Webb, signing off.

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Bleeping Mother Bleeper

Days Walking - 54

I'm still feeling awful, but no worse than yesterday. We held a brief pow-wow this morning, debating another damned day of rest because I'm sick. I lied and said I was feeling better today, and no no don't stop on my account, etc.

Adrian's caught my cold, ha ha my germs kick ass. I always feel validated when other people get sick from my germs. When I'm the only one, I feel like a wuss. With luck I will infect them all bwa ha ha

Damn, I just read the post for yesterday and I won't be making that mistake again. What was I thinking, letting these people ramble unchaperoned on the phone? Clearly I was not thinking.

Good thing Jake didn't talk much longer or there would have been death threats flying. I was hoping for an Emmy winning M.A.S.H.-esque 'Letter Home' post and it turns into "Bleeping Mother Bleeper!"

Next time I will prepare eloquent written statements for them to read, all input must be approved and signed in triplicate by yours truly.

And it was not eight minutes. No way. Good grief woman it was just babbling you don't have to tell the world and print invitations.

I'm glad that you guys enjoyed the difference in perspective for a change, I don't take that as a slight never fear. I would happily let the rest of the group speak to the world more often - it's not like I keep them locked up at night or something.

Perhaps once they read your comments, they'll feel the warm glow of attention and be more inclined. This really should be more of a group blog anyway - but it's not their thing. Church was accurate if a bit cool about my blogging enjoyment. It can be addictive, I admit. You don't know the power of the Dark Side. I Must obey my Master. I'll try to get them to loosen up - and speak up - more often.

Ms -E, yep our CB Radio can transmit as well as receive. I'll make sure we ladies stay off the air, and stay safer.

I've been trying to teach Adrian to play Gin Rummy. He's all about Blackjack. I'm sorry but Blackjack is too binary for me. It's over too quickly, bang bang and you've either won or lost.

In contrast, Rummy is a smooth, studied, laid back, social card game.

It's like slow, sweet love-making, not some half-dressed quickie nooner. But Adrian doesn't have the attention span for Rummy and claims I am making the rules up as I go. I'm not though. He just can't grasp the idea of playing off of one another's cards, it feels like chaos to him.

Sharon, you wondered where the next town was. Oh so far away. The next non-industrial oil-pumping related map notation is at Mile 275 - Galbraith Lake, where there seems to be camping and nothing else. No camping during the winter of course. Who us? No Never...Hardly Ever!

- Map rustling -

Golly. The Farthest North Spruce Tree is at Mile 235.

I don't know if you'd call it a town, but the next cafe, gift shop, post office, hotel, and etc is in Coldfoot Camp, at Dalton Highway Mile 175.

Coldfoot is another one hundred and sixty three miles or so from our present location... Say twenty more days of hiking... Add at least three days of rest in there somewhere, so say twenty three days, then add a couple days for inevitable delays...

Say - 1st week of May?
Pant Pant Pant!

Don't hold me to this date, one of us could spontaneously combust or something before that.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Not The Face!

Days Walking - 53

My cold has gotten even worse. I'm descending into hell and possibly pneumonia and a young death. I am into the sexy productive cough phase, and am bringing up yellowish frothy phlegm by the mouthful. With the wind mask, I can't even spit it out.

So lady-like, I know. Sorry. I hope to at least make an attractive corpse. If the crew doesn't eat me... Fresh meat would be a prize for us. Start with the rump, guys, ok? Not the face! Not the face!

Also, these last couple of days I've been troubled by, ah. The Hum. A deep, low, unceasing drone. Mostly and most noticeably at night but during the day too. I'm the only one that hears it, so clearly I am insane. Mebbe it's the start of an ear infection. Or Vibroacoustic Disease. Or Inner Ear Cancer.

I feel awful so I'm not going to talk for long tonight. Here's Adrian.

- - Big pause with mumbling back and forth for thirty seconds - -

Uh Hi. This is Adrian. What am I supposed to say? What? Ok, talk about the day. Litany's coughing day and night and sometimes I want to choke her. But that has nothing to do with the coughing. Now she's giving me The Finger isn't that nice. Ha now's she's choking on some coughed up gunk that's what you get for being rude. I'm just going to step outside now it's a lovely night. The wind has died down and it's very peaceful. I can't believe I'm here a lot of the time. When you go on a camping trip it's a quick weekend and then you go back to your normal life but this isn't a quick weekend. I wake up some mornings and feel as though I'm late for work or something.

I have a lot of time to think these days and I spend a lot of that time regretting the foolish mistakes I've made. I hope this trip doesn't turn out to be one of them. It's surprising how many bad choices one twenty five year old can manage to accumulate. I don't want to die in the frozen butt crack of the earth before I get a chance to make amends with some people. Cheryl, if you're reading this I'm Sorry. I know I never said it properly before but I am.

I don't know how long we'll actually be able to keep this up. Chile is a great goal but let's get realistic it's not going to happen. One of us is going to break a leg or puncture a lung and they'll be out and then there were seven. Jake will get Anneli pregnant because really its just a matter of time lets face it and they'll have to go home and then there were five. I'll be happy if I can just say I hiked from Barrow to Fairbanks that's plenty impressive in my book. I know this is supposed to be an fun adventure log and I guess I shouldn't be so doubtful about our goal. I'm sorry if I'm a realist.

Ok so this is turning into a depressing thing let me give the phone back to Lit. No I'm done. I don't have anything else to say. All right.

- - -

Hello...
My name is Church. Allow me to take a moment to warn you all about frostbite. It can strike in a very short time. First you'll feel a pins-and-needles sensation followed by numbness. Watch for bluish, white or waxy skin. Do not try to treat the condition yourself, get yourself to a professional medical practitioner ASAP. If your fingers, toes, ears, nose and other extremities are valuable to you, heed my words.

It concerns me somewhat that Litany spends a great deal of her time thinking and talking about blogging. If it's not talk about yesterday's blog, it's talk about what tonight's blog will be. This is not altogether a bad thing, as it is an important tie for her, and grounds her in the real world.

But if she is not discussing her own blog, she is discussing the blogs she enjoys reading. It's likely a phase that will pass, hopefully before her laptop suffers a fatal injury. I don't want to imagine Litany's mental state if her access to the internet was suddenly suspended. Let me refine that by saying I would be interested to examine the clinical results but would not want to be present for the study. Case in point, Gabe and Litany had an eight minute debate yes I timed it about whether or not she had a crush on Kato. "Yer Crushin on Kato" Gabe would say, followed by "Am Not." from Litany. Amusing at first, and then black-comical, and then sad.

Field medicine is proving very different from domestic first aid. Most domestic treatments are for a thumb cut on the tuna can, and similar. Certainly no frostbite. I've never worked as a trauma surgeon and am not looking forward to our first true medical emergency of the scalpel and sutures type. I worked for years growing up as a veterinary assistant and have done nearly two years of human pre-med work. I should say that I prefer working with animals.

While we're on the subject, I miss my dogs. Mom would call them hers, but Babs and Buster know who really loves them don't they yes they do. I also miss padding barefoot in the rain, down the conglomerate rock cement steps of my apartment complex as I dash down to throw my laundry in the dryer. I am not a huge fan of footwear and am sans shoes whenever possible. These last few months of forced footwear have been grating and I am looking very much forward to the temperature returning to reasonable levels. I welcome rain.

Here.

- - -

Hey it's Jake. I just want to say, Mr. Cathay, if you're reading this or even if you're not f*ck you for saying I would never go anywhere or amount to anything. What kind of an assh*le teacher says that to a student anyway you bitter old f*ck? Don't give me that child psychology bullsh*t, that was a messed up thing to say and you know it. I'm seeing things and meeting people that you can't even dream about. You probably still live with your mother.

- - -

It's me again - Litany that is. I thought today might make an interesting 'let everyone talk' thing, cause my throat hurts, but only three of these lazy people would participate. Jeez, how hard is it? Just talk into the phone. They can blab all day, unless it's something that matters. Anyway I'm gonna say night night now. Sorry.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Ecstatic Use of Its Repairedness

Days Walking - 52

Been really tired the last few days. Maybe because I'm sick. Feeling worse today than yesterday. I always hope that the first day of illness is a fluke, and that I'll feel better the next day. But not this time. Thanks all - for your wishes on behalf of my wellness!

Or maybe I'm sick because I'm tired. I just want to take a week off from hiking and EAT. Some mitochondrial, mammalian response to cold, maybe. I just want to hibernate with my cubs until the ice melts and I can go seal hunting.

Mmmn cute and tasty.

Like lamb, for instance. If seal is anywhere near as tasty as lamb, I completely understand where polar bears and orca are coming from. Yes I eat lamb, I told you before that I'm a horrible person. Also, rabbit is tasty, as is duck. Any cute animal is fit as food in my book. As long as I don't have to look into its adorable eyes as it is slaughtered.

My mouth is now watering for food, tank you bery buch. But with my cold, and stuffed nose, everything tastes like ass anyway. Which might be an improvement. Iron Rations are not known for their zest and verve.

Oh hey cool! Some of you have received your post cards. I was beginning to worry. I hope everyone gets em, especially you folks in countries other than the U.S.! I worry.

We've not seen any more signs of bears - or wolves for that matter. We're keeping an eye out. For protection, we have a couple of hunting bows (as in, bow and arrows).

A rifle is recommended for safety, but you're not allowed to hunt with them round these here parts, so why carry it? Plus, arrows are re-usable. Kwame has been carrying his bow - it's currently strung but no arrow is nocked. Archery? No? Should I 'splain? Ugh, too tired right now. Later.

Weather - Yes actually it's warming up, if slightly. It's fifteen degrees warmer today, only -15!

Hot water bottle, yes we have one. Somewhere. I have not seen it since Deadhorse. I'd like to use it but cannot be bothered to find it.

Anneli's bandaged wrist is doing well, Church has been hawkish in her observation, and we all were thoroughly lectured about frost-bite. Again. Sternly. We're careful, really. I'm surprised that there have not been more health issues or injuries than there have been, actually.

Of course, there are any number of stubbed toes and minor cuts that I have not reported. This isn't Litany's List of Bloody Owies, after all. Think of how much more boring this blog would be if I detailed every injury. You'd fall asleep reading it. Wakie Wakie...

Jake has a radio that receives whatever CB Band channels the truckers use, and he told us that he just heard this whole back and forth conversation that was pretty risqué. In an almost phone sex kinda way. Something right out of The Legendary Shack Shakers CB Song. Wish I'd been listening, or that there was some way to record it. I need some entertainment right now.

Speaking of entertainment: Gabe managed to repair the poop tent!!
We all made ecstatic use of its repairedness last night with much glee. Sharon - are there no Poop Tents in Barrow-land? Maybe you should market your own line of potty tents, make some $$!!

We were so happy when Gabe fixed it. Believe me when I tell you, it's the little things in life that really matter. Cherish those little things, like the fabric of the poop tent not drooping and clingy all over one side of you while you're trying to Go.

Litany Webb, signing off

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