Slapping My Face With Its Burningness

Days Walking - 84

Am I the only one that worries about this? - - Often when I begin to blog on a topic, I have to pause and think back, and try to make sure I haven’t already talked about it. Cause you know, the things I’m likely to say are things I’m likely to say. It’s like ‘hmn, this feels familiar…’ as I’m beginning a thought.

I’d like to say thanks to Sam Clark, a farmer from Idaho who helped me last night with the satellite system battery. Yay! Hello full power! It seems that there’s a trick to it - the secondary battery is inside the base of the system itself. You have to pop the cover off, and flip the battery around, and re-insert it. I’d read the instructions, like four months ago, and then promptly forgot how it worked. Yes obviously I should have kept better track of the instruction manual.

Kwame sold the sled. Since fresh powder is on the decline, and mud and muck doesn’t really sled too well, he decided that selling it while we were in Coldfoot would be a good idea. He’d bought it used in Barrow for about $500, and he got $250 for it. Yay, more rations for all! Not to mention bacon cheeseburgers. And onion rings.

The bummer is that the crank generator used to travel by sled, and it’s kinda heavy. So now we’ll have to lug it, like on our backs. Like I don’t already feel like an overburdened camel. Don’t get me wrong, I love the generator. Just not looking forward to schlepping it to Chile.

Am I the only person who thinks that onion rings should be cut into small pieces, and then breaded and fried? I hate it when I bite into an onion ring and the whole damn onion comes out in one giant floppy piece, and it’s scalding hot and slapping my face with its burningness. Cut em up, good Cookery Folk, cut em up!

I resisted the urge to stock up on caffeine pills while we’re here. Aside from the Coca Cola’s I had with lunch and dinner, I have not had any. I just don’t want to go through the withdrawal again. I get really pissy with everyone and I don’t like it.

Heather - Hey girl, I missed ya! I've been reading both your blogs every day, and I know you've been busy! You wondered if the trip has been intense… Sometimes it has been. I’d call it 'Days on End of Boredom, Punctuated by Sharp Stabs of Fear for Our Very Lives'.

Gabe very nearly got himself arrested last night. He was fooling around with a girl he’d met at the gift shop, they were getting it on in the backseat of her Jeep - only to second base, according to Gabe - and it's a good thing too.

(Where is my little bit of action? My sexy man with a Jeep? Yeah I know… It’s never hard to find some guy willing to jump a willing woman, but I’m not that desperate).

In the midst of the Gabe’s steamy scene, there comes the cliché tap-tap on the window with the law enforcement flashlight. It turns out, Little Miss wasn’t eighteen. So she’s freaking out, while trying to seem calm. Gabe pretended she was his wife, and she played along.

Since they weren’t driving, and just getting naughty in the parking lot, they were able to finagle their way out of showing ID. Good grief, of all the stupid things to get in trouble for. Or, almost get in trouble for. In Gabe’s defense, I saw this girl and she looked at least 21. That’s why you can’t trust how old a person appears to be.

We have not, as a group, discussed what we’ll do if someone gets their fool ass arrested. If it’s just a couple of days, we’d wait. But more than that, what - just leave them? We should come to a consensus on this before it actually happens. Then the arrested arse (hey it could be me) will know what to expect.

Since most of the land we spend time on is Federal, offenses that might otherwise be minor suddenly become A Big Deal and Uncle Sam Himself greets you at the prison door. Say hello to a big ole angry star spangled boot to the backside.

Litany Webb, signing off

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