The Pilgrimage of Litany

Not For The Faint of Heart

2005-07-06T15:31:00.000-07:00

(Yay! My new blog can be found here. )

Hello intrepid reader!

If someone said this was a good blog, or you accidentally clicked here from a link, and have no idea what you're in for, well I apologize.

(Nothin to see here, move along).

These are the daily entries of our hike for 130 days through the vast open range of Alaska, from Barrow to Fairbanks.

The entries are largely made up of me babbling on about random shit, but occasionally there are some germs of wisdom about hiking, cohabiting in close quarters, people, the planet and environment.

The Pilgrimage has gone on an indefinite hiatus, for assorted reasons. The eight of us all got on a conference call last night and talked and laughed and plotted about the future and its possibilities.

There's hopes that one day we might start up again, but right now it's in the 'someday' shoebox. So much can happen over a few years, there's really no telling.

I'm going to be working on the entries, from the beginning to the end, and adding input from the other seven members. While I rambled, some of them actually had deeper observations, thoughts or insights that they scribbled in their journals.

I'll be typing their stuff up and adding it where appropriate. Maybe even some pictures too, who knows. When that's done, I'm gonna take a crack at making a book out of the whole silly thing.

Below you'll find a few options to choose from.

Litany Webb, signing off

Jump to Start..........FAQ..........Synopsis Links

Days Walking 1 - 50

2005-07-05T15:20:00.000-07:00

Synopsis 1-50..........Synopsis 51-100..........Synopsis 101-134

I thought it might be handy for new readers to be able to get an overview of The Pilgrimage.

I've created links to the all of the posts, with a synopsis for each.

Barrow, Alaska
Days Walking - Negative 3
Preparing to start the hike in Barrow, and how my old blog went poof!

Barrow, Alaska Day 2
Days Walking - Negative 2
More prepping, and some intro on our hopes and dreams for the trip.

Barrow, Alaska Day 3
Days Walking - Negative 1
The hiking team is introduced.

Leaving Barrow
Days Walking - 0
Mere minutes before our scary departure from Barrow.

We're Still Alive!
Days Walking - 1
Ackian Peeps are super cool, and 5 Things We Learned.

Disolving Leather, Nipples Shattering Like Glass...
Days Walking - 2
My foolish plans to dictate the blog with speech recognition software.

How My Priorities Have Changed!
Days Walking - 2
Five things I miss most about civilization.

Impossibly Warm Hands
Days Walking - 3
Weird dreams and a Hot Hot Inupiat Man.

Hardcore Lovin' and Couscous
Days Walking - 3
I gush on and on about my Hot Hot Inupiat Man.

Portishead, I Invoke Thee!
Days Walking - 4
I listen to far too much Portishead one day and am inspired to write a Portishead song of my own. They have not deigned to buy the rights yet. I think they're playing hard to get.

At Terra in This Fateful Hour...
Days Walking - 4
I ask for help with Blogger. Turns out, Blogger was just messed up.

It's the Little Things
Days Walking - 4
I find a pretty leaf where no leaf has gone before. I still have it.

FAQ - Give Me Your Huddled Masses
Days Walking - 5
I answer lots of common questions about myself and the hike.

I Don't Deserve This
Days Walking - 6
I realize this a stark and beautiful place, and I invent a nifty glove.

Fresh out of Conception Approval Forms
Days Walking - 6
Five things I don't miss about the civilized world.

Girls + Boys x Alcohol = Sex
Days Walking - 7
First rest day. We all do a lot of crank.

Nutrient-Rich Earwax Nectar
Days Walking - 8
Kwame has a frostbite emergency, and spanish phrase of the day.

Secret Do-ings and Go-ings On
Days Walking - 9
Aurora is pretty, Anneli yells at Jake, Polar Bears discussed.

Freakish Hysterical Insect Issue
Days Walking - 10
Johnny Soderstrom is killed in an avalanche, Dad and his Merc army, Ackian tundra insect problems during warm weather.

Tongue Lashings and Specialized Wigglers
Days Walking - 11
A snow shelter collapses, and 5 Habits I Hope Stay Broken.

Heavy Petting and Pasta Primavera
Days Walking - 12
Jake and Anneli get it on and I pretend to sleep, and 5 Evil Things I Miss.

Alien Visitors and Ice Fishing
Days Walking - 13
Atka Island Volcano gets fussy, and our frozen lake crossing methods.

A Lone Potty on the Plain
Days Walking - 14
I have a bizarre dream about a porta potty, and enjoy Metroid for GBA.

Be Groovy - Or Else!
Days Walking - 15
Robin asked some great questions, I ramble on forever answering them.

Damn I am a Moron
Days Walking - 16
I get hurt messing around. Lots of RICE for me.

Samus of the Light Brown Hair
Days Walking - 16
We spend the remains of the day resting, due to my dumbass injury.

Brassiere Malfunctions and The Zed Word
Days Walking - 17
Repairing equipment - important stuff like my bra. Shaun of the Dead.

Penguins in Spaaaaace
Days Walking - 18
Jake and Anneli are officially "going steady". Dane Cook. Church talks in her sleep, and a link to some real adventurers, bitch.

Huffing and Kiwi Cravings
Days Walking - 19
My commentors rock! I post my first crappy picture, coin the phrase 'Fingerclickin Good', and consider cyrogenic necrophelia.

Shelly is a F*cking Bitch :o)
Days Walking - 20
Shelly is, she really is. Online relationships and their perils.

Coming Soon: Polar Bear Wrasslin'
Days Walking - 21
Kato plots to keep me sane. We find a lost snowmobile tread in the snow. We listen to a cool Russian radio show. I'm rhyming, please someone make it stop.

Amanda Tapping and Savory Lap-Dances
Days Walking - 22
Gabe Loves Him Some Stargate SG1. The term "Incest with it" is coined. I begin dictating my posts to Marina using the Sat Phone and leaving her voicemails. Much easier than messing with the laptop. Rachael Scdoris is my hero.

A Healthy Surplus of Funk
Days Walking - 23
We really, really smell bad. I detail a Serious Discussion for the first and last time.

Orgasmville, and Step On It! (Don't Spare the Whip)
Days Walking - 24
Jake and Anneli wake us up during a lovemaking session for the first time - wish I could say it was the last. I eat too many banana chips and fight not to hurl. Link is the man!

Gettin All Up In There (With a Flashlight)
Days Walking - 25
Church and Kwame get colds, Gabe's lips crack and bleed, and Caeled's nether regions sprout fugus. Fun.

"Phase 5 is Not an Option"
Days Walking - 26
The blog's most popular topic ever - the Poop Tent - is introduced. I really need to design one of these and sell it to REI. Or Comedy Central.

Buttons as Money and Chicks for Free
Days Walking - 27
The list of medical supplies is detailed, we begin bartering for sewing materials, and iPod radio.

Thieving *ssholes Will Pay
Days Walking - 28
I get in a real bad mood that lasts a few days. I got paranoid and edgy.

Give It Up For My Homies!
Days Walking - 29
I praise my commentors and their amazingness. Critter sightings detailed, I obsess about being eaten by a polar bear, and I pick a fight with Gabe.

Repressed Virginal Ice Phobias
Days Walking - 30
Ice carving photos from the Anchorage Daily News, trees falling on innocent people, and my fellow hikers are lazy slobs.

Happy Sigh
Days Walking - 31
Church likes to spoon in her sleep - not that there's anything wrong with that... Anneli bond over clean dishes. Audio blogging.

Muk-Luk Wearing Mahakalas
Days Walking - 32
We find a rock that is definitely not a meteor, I resist gettting my picture taken in my funkified state, and Roger Zelazny rocks.

Yet Another Tale of Woah
Days Walking - 33
I accidentally burn up my thermal underpants, and bag chasing fun.

Sexy Brits and Assorted Sexy Europeans
Days Walking - 34
I invite folks to request a postcard. The Prisoner and Bad Naked.

Lips Slickery With Balm
Days Walking - 35
My brother emails me, the bastard. Psychic-related cramps. Caeled's fungus issue relapses.

Wearing Woo and Pillow Pants Too
Days Walking - 36
Girl's Grooming Night. I hope to meet a boy to seduce in Prudhoe Bay.

A Fetish for 80's Synth
Days Walking - 37
Postcard requests start coming in, AdSense is a funky thing, and hike-funding money-making plans.

Life IS Pain, Highness
Days Walking - 38
I detail "a day in the life" in the hike. I need to finish typing this one.

Carol is the Keymaster
Days Walking - 39
We arrive in Prudhoe Bay and are threatened, rounded up by security.
I have to wait for my care package.

Daddy Loves His Litany
Days Walking - 40
I get my care package, discover there is no bar in Deadhorse, and write a short poem praising electricity.

The Soup Light - New Photographic Wonder
Days Walking - 41
I post pics of Deadhorse, Anneli, and ugh, myself.

Leaving Deadhorse
Days Walking - 42
We leave Deadhorse, and begin the Dalton Highway. This is the first time in the hike we've used roads (since leaving Barrow).

Curtains For You, Mugsy
Days Walking - 43
I describe the history of The Dalton Highway, and describe communal showering in Deadhorse.

Be Vewy Vewy Quiet
Days Walking - 44
We're not really supposed to be hiking and camping along the highway, I take a vow of silence, Things I Silently Observed.

Cacophony of Curses, Swearing and Spittle
Days Walking - 45
Pee Bottle Duty, we meet a trucker, and the joys of rooming with Adrian.

High-Calorie, Buttery Dinner of Sin
Days Walking - 46
More female truckers than I thought, The Silence of Litany Day 3, and Adrian's Unregretted Shame.

There Be Bluffs Up In Here
Days Walking - 47
Franklin Bluffs, Sir John Franklin, Pingo's, and musical tastes.

Adrian is a Good Cranker
Days Walking - 48
Steinbeck characters in Warner Bros Cartoons, Caeled's Fungus, and my need for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The Dow of Pooh
Days Walking - 49
Kwame's sister goes AWOL from the USAF, The Tao of Pooh, and music taste queries.

Please Enjoy The Cookies
Days Walking - 50
More on Kwame's sister, the end of The Vow of Silence, and the benefits of raising children in Ack.

Synopsis 1-50..........Synopsis 51-100..........Synopsis 101-134

Days Walking 51 - 100

2005-07-05T15:00:00.000-07:00

Synopsis 1-50..........Synopsis 51-100..........Synopsis 101-134

I thought it might be handy for new readers to be able to get an overview of The Pilgrimage.

I've created links to the all of the posts, with a synopsis for each.

What's This 'Flup' Stuff?
Days Walking - 51
Anneli is attacked by frostbite, treatment is detailed, the Poop Tent suffers a heinous injury, and Polar Bear activity.

Ecstatic Use of Its Repairedness
Days Walking - 52
I get a cold, eating cute animals is coveted, Jake eavesdrops on the trucker's CB band, Poop Tent repairs, Wolves, Bears and archery.

Not The Face!
Days Walking - 53
My cold gets bad, opportunistic cannibalism, Adrian, Church, and Jake speak their minds to the world.

Bleeping Mother Bleeper
Days Walking - 54
I'm still sick, Adrian catches my cold and I am vindicated, Rummy vs. Blackjack, and Church needs to learn the power of the dark side.

No Moleste Por Favor
Days Walking - 55
I'm starting to feel better! Kwame vanishes in the night, and we have to track his butt down. Bastard.

Poor Lil Meow Meow
Days Walking - 56
My cat gets sick, Adrian's OCD gets on my damn nerves, I run out of a precious commodity, and midnight massages.

Smell Those Yummy Humans
Days Walking - 57
Wolves howling in the night and their plots to devour us, Golden Hour, and erotic corn dog dreams.

Your Sisters The Buttocks
Days Walking - 58
Kwame's penance, frequent chopper flyby's, and our plotting to evade the authorities.

Money For My Morels
Days Walking - 59
No more Cheerios, an oil spill, money for shrooms, and my fervent dreams of one day selling out.

Trading in Delicious Disease
Days Walking - 60
Raving about beneficial germs, I think this might be one of my favorite posts on the whole blog. Once in a great while I write something good.

With Fresh Coconut Milk
Days Walking - 61
My iPod craps out 30 minutes into the day, I run out of caffeine pills, and plot to kill and eat my pals - just for the peace and quiet.

AGHIIGHHIRRRGH!!
Days Walking - 62
Too much yearning, Plotting to kill them all, starting my own cult, and a pic of Caeled.

Read My Lips - Aint No Trees
Days Walking - 63
The Army's got a thing or two to learn about Arctic Survival, everyone has a SaberSpoon but me, and the danger of pate in the Ackian wild.

Den Of Edgy Female Irkfulness
Days Walking - 64
All us girls is bitches, I try and fail to apply Peek A Boo comment code to my blog template, and Vietnamese soup is the shiznit.

High on Suffering
Days Walking - 65
35 mile per hour wind gusts, Spekk Finger, and an old journal entry I wrote before the hike started.

Flee From The Squat Progeny
Days Walking - 66
Gabe has horrific gastrointestinal issues, incest with NoDoz, and a wacked Ackian Woman and her man's hypothetical Spekk Schlong.

She Has No Clue
Days Walking - 67
Frequent Need To Squat Disorder, Shelly is clueless, Dad gets a girlfriend, Jake and Anneli have a tiff, and I accidentally steal a line from Her Greatness, Dooce.

A Rash of Suspicious Coincidences
Days Walking - 68
Gabe finally gets better, food allergies, a pic of my cat, and a transcript of a conversation with my Dad. Exciting!

Smart-Assed Sarcastic Whiney Wanna-Be
Days Walking - 69
My snowshoe goes POP! I obsess on Dad's new girlfriend, we see our first tree in months, I post a pic (wow!), and Church and I pester Anneli for details on the lover's tiff.

Comedy Caplets, C.O.D.
Days Walking - 70
We're huge geeks, and play a Harry Potter RPG that Adrian and Kwame dreamed up, and these 'tree' things are mighty pretty.

Tea Parties With Satyrs
Days Walking - 71
Harry Potter RPG rambling, frighteningly - no one is sick, and I crave chips and salsa.

Like Scrubbing Bubbles, But Evil
Days Walking - 72
We encounter a crashed trucker, snow scrubbing the nether regions, anticipating talking to Dad's GF Joann on the phone that night, and Accidental Orgy Syndrome.

April 27th Always Tends To Suck
Days Walking - 73
I miss my Mom.

Freaky Green Alien Llama
Days Walking - 74
Robin's profile pic gets even cuter, Wacky web applets, Tents are liars, and Joann seems aiight, I guess...

Like An Amateurish Inane Teeny Bopper
Days Walking - 75
My cousin Terry is preggers, my brother is still a jerk, and I make a move on Adrian.

Props to All Us World War 1 Flying Aces!
Days Walking - 76
Post-Seduce-Attempt Depression, we meet a retired couple on the road, and we barter with them for goodly goods.

Oh So Glad It Wasn't My Fault
Days Walking - 77
We lose a beloved team member, break the news to the rest of the team, and have a good cry. Seriously.

Blogging on Blogging on Blogging
Days Walking - 78
I ramble on about blogging for six or seven thousand words. Skip this one, don't read it.

Nap Nap All The Live Long Day
Days Walking - 79
I feel crappy this day, and wimp out - posting a angsty poem.

Chaos, Avalanches and Whatnot
Days Walking - 80
Silent Screaming, Ack becomes a wet and drippy realm, and several team members get into a big fight over a People Magazine.

Most Terribly Not Dead
Days Walking - 81
Caeled has manly nerves as a wolf tries to sneak into camp, and we start keeping watch at night - finally!

Halfway to Fairbanks!
Days Walking - 82
We arrive in Coldfoot at Mile 175 of the Dalton Highway, and finally get to shower. I post some pics.

Giggle Wiggle Boob Shaker
Days Walking - 83
We meet some folks in Coldfoot, Ackian mud is a pain in the ass, and The Coldfoot Cafe serves up some darned good bacon cheeseburgers!

Slapping My Face With Its Burningness
Days Walking - 84
Kwame sells the sled, onion rings hurt, and Gabe gets naughty with a random tourist-girl.

A Rush of Mutant Endorphins
Days Walking - 85
On the road again, I get an email from a troubled and misguided wife, and I 'volunteer' to carry the crank generator, now that the sled is sold.

Intimate Attentions from Big Bertha
Days Walking - 86
Whole lotta daylight goin on, what I'd do if I were homeless, The Great Wall of China, and Litany's Cracker Ass, two things you can see from space.

He's Still Father Caeled From The Block
Days Walking - 87
Ack's Craziest Tree Thief Police Chases, Leave No Trace, and our efforts to clean up Dalton Highway litter.

A Cameo By Olympian Brooke Bennett
Days Walking - 88
The Spruce Bark Beetle Calamity, Litter we've discovered and collected for proper disposal, and Holy Caribou, these things are big!

Lies! Unfortunate Lies!
Days Walking - 89
I must be ovulating or something. I have a crazy daydream about Adrian, and I describe it for one and all. It's very silly.

Goofin on Gaurana
Days Walking - 90
Nutrilite Daily Multivitamin, Gaurana, and Josta Cola I miss you so.

Witty Words Here
Days Walking - 91
The group decides I've had quite enough Gaurana, we're buzzed by three choppers, and we have a Spring fashion show, like ohmygawd.

iPod Glutes Implant Service Pack 2
Days Walking - 92
Cyborg MP3 Players, Bikers are wimps, and we're hardcore, yo.

Regarding Fruit / Tree Proximity
Days Walking - 93
We meet entomologists Tony Glenn and Marsha Butler, who are making a study of this part of the Dalton Highway. They gave us DEET I love them so much.

Evert Your Eyes!
Days Walking - 94
Kwame binges on everyone's breakfast, and then autopurges. Sounds like a handy skill, but not so much.

Mom, Ever Feel Less Than French?
Days Walking - 95
Kwame improves, rainy weather, I fall on my ass a lot, Golden Three Hours, and we annoy the truckers.

From Her Head Down To Her Toenails
Days Walking - 96
During a routine paranoid scan of my hard-drive, I discover that Church is a big porn freak, and all this time I never knew.

Maulrats
Days Walking - 97
A Big F*cking Grizzly Bear blocks our path, eating a roadkill caribou -and we live in fear and awe. But mostly fear.

Sleeping With The Enmity
Days Walking- 98
Adrian and Church fall asleep during night watch, we flog them thoroughly, and take a rest day.

Flashlight Training Inc - Obedience and Security
Days Walking - 99
Arctic Kamikaze Porcupines bustle in the bushes all night long. We enjoy Yiddish folk songs.

Got Hazmat?
Days Walking - 100
Military guys drive by in grocery-logo tanker trucks, and I post a poem.

Synopsis 1-50..........Synopsis 51-100..........Synopsis 101-134

Days Walking 101 - 134

2005-07-05T14:20:00.000-07:00

Synopsis 1-50..........Synopsis 51-100..........Synopsis 101-134

I thought it might be handy for new readers to be able to get an overview of The Pilgrimage.

I've created links to the all of the posts, with a synopsis for each.

Unwilling Blood Donor Dinner
Days Walking - 101
I consider a number of taglines for the novelization of the POL, and the best method to minimize bug bites on one's tender backside.

Ha Ha! I Mauled Your Leg!
Days Walking - 102
A news story about a grizzly bear attack, my adventures in paintball, and Dad and Joann decide to go steady.

Duck Duck Duck - - Goose!
Days Walking - 103
I have a claustrophobic episode, we relive a Gilligan's Island moment, and the storms are beautiful and scary.

Rough and Reassuring
Days Walking - 104
Church has pugent gas issues, I describe my erotic dream from the night before, I have a thing for produce apparently.

Madame Seamstress And The OCD Itch
Days Walking - 105
We actually wash our funky selves, my improving skill in clothing repairs, and the only correct way to take pills.

Happy Birthday Jake!
Days Walking - 106
Jake's B-Day, we're bad friends and have no cake or gifts, and I invent a fly-paper baseball cap.

F*ck F*ck F*ck
Days Walking - 107
My Dad passes into a diabetic coma and is hospitalized. I freak out.

I Want My Empty V
Days Walking - 108
Death, Tombstones, the Afterlife, sex robots, and cryogenic freeze.

Sherpas Do It On Top
Days Walking - 109
Dad Goes home from the hospital, I ask for book recommendations, and I look forward to arriving in Fairbanks.

Mmmn Cherry Garcia
Days Walking - 110
Gabe slips and hurts his knee, we can't do much for him, and I'd make a really bad war correspondant.

Extra Extra! Read All About It!
Days Walking - 111
Holy Moly! Jake and Anneli get Engaged and Pregnant!

Please Excuse The Mess...
Days Walking - 112
Gabe claims his knee improved, I ramble about Jake and Anneli's hypothetically deformed offspring, and what their decisions about the pregnancy might be.

The Most Excellent Bruno Putney!
Days Walking - 113
Gabe's knee is worse than ever, and we force him to catch a ride into Fairbanks. Church rides along, and they take the heavy equipment and we press on into the night to make it to Fairbanks.

And I Wacked Myself But Good
Days Walking - 114
Fairbanks! I smash my thumb putting the tent up, we find out the details of Gabe's condition, and Jake and Anneli head to the hospital to get her a prenatal checkup.

Forceps. Scalpel. Whipped Cream.
Days Walking - 115
Caeled and I have to move the whole camp all by our little selves, Anneli is definitely pregnant, and the baby is doing well, Gabe's folks agree to pay for his knee surgery. I volunteer to do it, and am rebuffed.

Dear Santa, I Would Like a Lightsaber and a Wookie.
Days Walking - 116
We get to see 'Revenge of the Sith', our first movie in months, Kwame finds a job, and we move camp yet again.

The Girl - In The Coffeeshop - With the Lead Pipe.
Days Walking - 117
We gave blood, I earn $1 the hard way, I devise a line-waiting scam, and decide that I desperately need new panties.

Scary Undead Grandma Church
Days Walking - 118
Church gets a cold, Gabe needs to fly to New York for his surgery, and I apply for many many jobs.

Post-Partum Deletion
Days Walking - 119
I mourn Kthrne's missing posts, and relate a story about a journal from my youth and a antique incinerator.

Wessstiiiiiide!
Days Walking - 120
I get a job, delivering advertising flyers door-to-door, alas.

Outsource THIS
Days Walking - 121
How the British Occupation of India during the 18th Century led to the utter downfall of economic stability in the western hemisphere in 2007.

Ack, You Crack Me Up
Days Walking - 122
Gabe prepares to leave for New York, and we try to come to terms with his departure. An eagle plows through a guy's window and loses his fish. I wonder if the guy cooked it for dinner? I would have.

Grief'in...On a Jet Plane
Days Walking - 123
Gabe flies off to New York, it rains all day and my boss cares not. I invent flyer condoms.

Christian Bale is HOT
Days Walking - 124
I get paid! Vending Machines are evil, and music fandom is an addiction.

New Books For To Read!
Days Walking - 125
I get some books to read, finally. I borrow some DVDs from a coworker, and we enjoy the roomier tents, sans Gabe.

Win Ben Stein's Bunny
Days Walking - 126
Jake and Anneli decide to quit the team, I lose all fonts on my laptop except for 'arial', and my prediliction for wasting time online.

Oh She's Workin All Right...
Days Walking - 127
I get Caeled a job, people are damn lazy, and I obsess about how Church spends her days alone at camp.

And Then There Were 5
Days Working - 128
Jake and Anneli leave for Texas. The bus is a bad place to say goodbye, and we hope to visit them and their little one on our way through Texas.

A Little Antifreeze In Her Coke
Days Walking - 129
Kwame tries to seduce me, we assess the equipment situation, and Church gets far too much male attention.

I have to fly home
Days Walking - 130
Dad's in the hospital again - this time with low blood pressure, and I get on a plane to Los Angeles.

Stable and under observation
Days Walking - 131
I'm in Los Angeles. Dad's still in the hospital but is better. We await test results.

Going home today
Days Walking - 132
Dad improves much, and gets to go home from the hospital. It's weird to be back in Los Angeles.

Hot Oatmeal Dogs?
Days Walking - 133
Dad relaxes at home, Joann is a good egg, and we go grocery shopping.

Cosmic Curiousity and Bloody Feathers
Days Walking - 134
I make a difficult decision.

Synopsis 1-50..........Synopsis 51-100..........Synopsis 101-134

Cosmic Curiosity and Bloody Feathers

2005-06-29T15:47:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 134

I spoke to Church on the phone - the first thing she said to me was: "You're not coming back, are you?"

"What?" I said. "Why do you say that?"
Apparently I say "Hello" very suspiciously.

The other night, as I entered Dad's hospital room - standing there in the doorway with my stomach flip-flopping, I was nervous. It had been months since I'd seen him, and he'd been through a lot, and I didn't know what I would see, and how I would react to it.

I didn't want to start crying - that would make him worry, and he doesn't need that stress. He needs to get better and live forever, or at least until I can introduce him to his Great-Grandchildren.

My brother nudged me, and I realized I was hanging in the doorway. I moved into the room and caught a glimpse of Dad. He looked so tired and pale. Wrung out. He'd lost weight, and he looked older for it. And his hair has begun to gray.

I managed not to cry, right then anyway. He looked more vulnerable than I've ever seen him, and it was that moment that I knew. I wasn't going to fly almost four thousand miles back to Ack, hike off into the middle of nowhere, and have my Dad pass away while I'm powerless to stop it, or even to say goodbye. To squeeze his hand and demand that he snap the f*ck out of it and get up and LIVE, DAMMIT.

So I'm not going back to Alaska. I had every intention of going back, as I packed my crap and boarded the plane in Fairbanks, during the flight, as I got off the plane in Los Angeles, on my way to the hospital with my brother, as we parked at the hospital, into the door, up the elevator, and down the hall. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd return to the hike.

Does it make sense to say - I'm very disappointed by my decision. I've spent a lot of time, effort and money planning the trip and making it happen. I quit my job, sold my car, sold all my furniture, and broke up with my boyfriend. I completely up-ended my life. And while every day on the hike was not always fun, I was glad to be there.

There was so much I wanted to do and see, and people I wanted to meet. So much to learn and experience, and I'm going to give up this easily? And if Dad had been sick a year ago, would I have ever gone? I don't think so.

It's not Dad's fault. I don't want him to feel guilty. It's not like he's weighing me down. I'm weighing me down. When I left, everything was fine, all my ducks were in a row. And I turn my back for a bit, and the ducks are going apeshit and killing one another, blood and feathers everywhere. I don't want to come home in five years to a pile of bloody feathers and dead ducks.

I've come to realize what my priorities truly are. I want my family preserved, whole and healthy. I know Dad will pass away someday, and living in Los Angeles is not going to change that. But at least here I can be useful.

If Dad and Joann stay together and get married, my role in his life will change. I used to pester him to eat better, take his vitamins, all that motherly crap, and that's gonna be her job - or it is already. I might be exaggerating my role in his life at this point. I can't nurse him like I could before. But I can be here, on call.

Which is how it has to be. Because there's no way I'm going to get a call while 300 miles from civilization, to find out he's dead. He's gonna live a long time, and I'm gonna be here to enforce that.

Meanwhile, in Ack - Church, Adrian, Caeled, and Kwame are still deciding what they want to do. From our talk last night, I'm making an educated guess that they'll opt for heading home. I wonder what would have happened if Gabe hadn't hurt his knee? I'm not saying all this is his fault, just cosmic curiosity.

I won't be blogging much for a while. I've got to start updating my resume, looking for a job, and all that other fun stuff that life in the civilized world demands. I'll probably start a new blog, since this is meant to be the hiking chronicle, not the 9-5 regular life borefest.

I'm worried that all of you will be disappointed in me. Your words and thoughts really matter. I know you guys have been pulling for all of us on this journey, and I love you for it. Thanks so much to all of you - for your encouragement, caring wishes, sincere thoughtfulness, helpful suggestions, interested questions, and blessed comic relief.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Hot Oatmeal Dogs?

2005-06-28T23:56:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 133

We brought Dad home from the hospital yesterday. It was good to have him there, to help dispell the creepy morbid thoughts that were lingering during my solo visit.

Joann's been a big help and she's a cool lady. I have a strong feeling she'll be around for a while, which is cool because she's good for Dad.

We're going grocery shopping now, cause damn there's nothing left to eat in this house except hot dogs and oatmeal.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Going home today

2005-06-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 132

Dad's doing much better, and it looks like they'll be letting him go home from the hospital today. It seems that the whole low blood pressure thing was the result of an unforeseen drug interaction between a few prescription drugs he's taking.

Which is good to hear since low blood pressure is apparently one of the symptoms of advanced diabetes, and I was hoping we weren't to that stage yet.

It's a scary stage, where wounds don't heal, your eyes crust over, and lots of other unpleasantness. At least prescriptions can be modified, swapped out for other drugs without said interaction, and so on.

My brother's looking for someone to blame, since the docs should have been more careful in their prescribing, but the docs only know what you tell them. It's very possible Dad forgot to mention everything he's taking. And even if he did, how to prove that? I'm just glad he's doing better, and that it's something readily remedied.

It was really great to see Dad again, and be able to give him a hug after months of only hearing his voice. He looks like he's aged five years since I've been gone. I've only been away like five months, so that's kinda scary. He's lost some weight because his diet has improved since the whole diabetes thing, and he's got some gray hair at his temples, which he never did before.

It's really weird to be back in Los Angeles. I had to go home to feed Maleficent (my cat) and going back into the house with no one else there was very odd. It felt almost as if Dad had passed away, and I had come back from some distant life - with job, family, etc - to hear The Will read and see him buried. It was really a creepy feeling.

Thanks so much, all of you thoughtful, caring folks who sent positive energies our way.

It's much appreciated and reciprocated! Big hugs for all!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Stable and under observation

2005-06-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 131

I'm in Los Angeles, Dad is still in the hospital but he seems ok for now. They're still waiting for some test results.

Thanks for all your kind well-wishes, you guys are great friends!

Litany Webb, signing off

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I have to fly home

2005-06-24T04:39:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 130

Dad's in the hospital again, he had a bad dizzy spell, almost fell down the stairs. He's got low blood pressure, whatever that means. They're not sure what's wrong with him.

I'm getting on a plane to Los Angeles.

Litany Webb, signing off

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A Little Antifreeze In Her Coke...

2005-06-23T09:11:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 129

It turns out - the guy at work who dumped his load of flyers and disappeared the other day didn't just up and quit in the midst of his shift. The story is conflicted, but it seems that he was jumped by either some hoodlums or the police. More on this story as it develops...

Hank - Hello! No, I'm not gonna change the header from "8 People" to "5 People". This here is the chronicle of eight people and what happens to them, and I think it still applies.

Kato and Sharon - I've passed your well-wishes on to Jake and Anneli, who said "Thanks!"

Jake and Anneli arrived safely. Anneli used one terse word to describe El Paso - "Brown". I admit, it would be hard to leave the beauty of Ack for the desert blandness of the southwest. She grew up in New England, so she's accustomed to green, growing things everywhere. And geese, apparently? Her descriptions seemed very E.B. White.

Over some yummy hard lemonade, Kwame tried to seduce me last night. I don't know how to feel about it. The guy is a full-on player, which is fine since I know it already and can take his flirting as what it is and not let it lead me to believe he has any real interest in me, beyond the carnal.

Carnal interests are something I really and completely understand, but there are lots of cuter gals in Fairbanks. And he won't have to wake up next to them for the next five to eight years if it didn't work out.

We were in the freaking wilderness for months, and he never made any kind of move. I think that it was just convenience, last night. He was there, I was there, everybody else was in town, and a little snogging never hurt nobody.

We kissed for all of five seconds before I asked him to stop.

It would take more than three bottles of hard lemonade for me to make that mistake. If we were both players, if I could have an affair with someone and just be friends with them, it would work. But I can't. I fall really fast and far and then I pay for it with many, many tears later. I usually get some good poetry out of it though...

(Psst - Kwame is a very very good kisser. Oh my.)

So what will I do if Church hooks up with one of the guys? I'll be the last unclaimed female. It'll be like 2nd Grade Dodgeball all over again, and who wants to repeat that kind of memory? I think I'm more approachable than she is. But she's blonde. And she has bigger boobs, and we all know how the menfolk feel about those. Bastards.

I have a raw spot on my wrist where the rubberbands live during the daily flyer-stuffing extravaganza (shows at 11 and 2). It's an unhappy looking owie, and Church treated me and griped at me, and said "Don't do that anymore." I don't know if she means the rubberbands or the job. Either way, I agree!

Now that our three departing hiking pals are gone, we can start calculations to actually discover how much we'll need to set out for the next town. Caeled really needs a new pack. The one he's been using was used to begin with, and wasn't that great when it was new, I fear. And you can spend from $150 to $800 and up on a pack. I'm gonna guess that the type he'll need will run like $200 easy.

With Jake, Anneli and Gabe gone, we have unprecedented tent space! We have four tents and five people, so we get to spend more nights alone. Now we need to decide if we want to carry four tents for five people. Or hell, buy one more and everyone is happy. Gotta carry it though, gotta carry it.

Damn! Some guy just came up to camp and started hitting on Church! Am I not sitting right here? I bathed! I smell like kiwi-strawberry body wash, bitch! Am I not lithe and quirky, overflowing with witty personality? I can chat the chat, you betcha. Better'n her, any day. Talk to me, you assh*le.

I'll have to poison her breakfast, that's all.

Litany Webb, signing off

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And Then There Were 5

2005-06-22T09:24:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 128

Jake and Anneli fly to Texas in the morning. I was going to say "flying home", but it's not home for her yet. Having a baby is going to be a huge, life-changing thing for both of them.

Especially since they've never really lived together before. From this wacky, atypical environment, they'll be thrust into the world of 9-5 bullshit, traffic, laundry, and work. I hope it all works out for them.

I think if I were Anneli, I would insist on going home - her home that is, in Maine. I'd want my own family around me as a support group, because I doubt that pregnancy is a state in which you're likely to endear yourself to a new group of people. If reading Dooce has taught me anything, it's that pregnancy is gonna be a bitch, and so will I.

Their flight leaves at like 5AM, but the Yellow Line bus, she no run that early. So they spent the night in the terminal. We caught the last bus, which dropped them at the airport at like 11:45PM, and rode back to the depot with the nice driver who wasn't supposed to let us.

We said our final goodbyes on the bus, which is a weird place to offer someone a fond farewell. I mean, you tell people goodbye at the airport, the bus station, the train station - but not on a bus.

The departure hubs have high ceilings and marble and brushed brass and they echo. There's the hustle and bustle and people cheering and crying. There's a sense of occasion.

A bus is so casual, so plebeian. It kinda saps the depth of feeling when you're spilling your heartfelt wishes and misses, and the driver's calling out the streets as you pass them.

Maybe it would have been better to not say goodbye on the bus then? Would the bus stop been any better? I don't know. I like to go as far as I can to see my loved ones off safely. I've been known to walk my Dad down to the car in the mornings, just to make sure he's got his lunch and bag and keys and suchlike. Yeah I've got dependency issues.

It was hard to see them go, but easier than it was with Gabe. He left due to an injury, and they left for love and family. So the whole angry, bitter vibe that Gabe's departure had wasn't there for Jake and Anneli's departure.

And we've decided to make sure our hiking path takes us through El Paso, so we can meet up with these two lovebirds and meet the baby. They leave now two kick ass nomad hikers, and when we see them again they'll be kick ass parents. How weird that's gonna be.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Oh She's Workin All Right...

2005-06-21T08:36:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 127

Hmn, Kato - I'll have to get some Font Gnome repellant on the way home from work tomorrow. Dratted little critters! You know, if they'd just ask, I'd be happy to give up at least half of my fonts.

Speaking of fonts, it's odd how my taste for fonts changes. For a couple of years, I was all about Times New Roman and wouldn't use anything else. Then it was Courier New. Right now it's Verdana. Am I the only one with weird font preferences? Not that Verdana is weird, I think it's very clean and crisp.

Caeled was able to get my fonts back for me. In the end, he removed all the TTF files from the font folder, and then returned them. Now it works fine. Wacky!

I got Caeled a job!
It's a good thing too, cause he had no prospects and I suspect he was spending his days chillin at the library. The flyer place where I work needed a new techie, and I recommended Caeled highly (and recommendations from migrant flyer-stuffing laborers weighs weightily) and they asked him a few questions and he got the job.

It seems their last IT guy up and quit, and meanwhile all their systems are choked with spyware. Ha ha I think that's some delicious irony there. I told him not to make the fixes look too easy, or he'd be out of a job.

It has always boggled me how people will shirk any job, no matter how easy it is. Doug - one of the dumb*ss guys at my work - got fired today because instead of rubber-banding the flyers to doorknobs, he threw his entire payload into a bush like two blocks from our distribution center.

Management has these pickups that they troll around in, making sure we're out and about and doing our thing as directed. The wind was blowing the flyers out of the bush and across the street, right in front of one such manager as he sat at a red light. Busted!

I mean, this job is dull and mindless, but that describes most jobs. We can listen to music, and we're outside, and Fairbanks is a very pretty town! What's the problem, dude? Maybe this was just one minimum wage job too many for him, and he didn't care any more. The other guys said he'd worked here for like three months.

I guess if this job was all I had to look forward to, I might quit too. Since I know it's just for a few weeks, I can hack it. I mean, if you're going to quit, at least say so before you get all loaded up and trudge off into the world. Say "I quit. Sorry. Can't do it no more." and navigate your ass to Monster.com. It's not hard.

Now Church needs to get her butt in gear and get a job of some sort. (She's completely opposed to flyer-stuffing) Although, if she did, there would be no one to guard our campsite, and I have to admit, it's well worth it to me to know she's there.

She's freakishly careful, and I know for a fact that all my goodies will be intact, not on fire, and waiting for me when I get back to camp - (barring a natural disaster). So maybe that can be her job, watching the crap. She's gotta be bored out of her mind, but she deals with it pretty well.

...Or mebbe Church IS working, and we just don't know it. Mebbe she's getting her freak on with other campers for cash. They do seem very friendly towards her... Hmn, especially that one attractive, older guy with the very snazzy RV.

He's all "Hey Church." and she's all "Hey Tim." Uh huh. I think that's pretty suspicious right there. That's no friendly greeting, they're plotting their next tryst! I need to set up a webcam to watch the camp and see what she's up to while we're all working...

Litany Webb, signing off

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Win Ben Stein's Bunny

2005-06-20T09:14:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 126

Thanks for the additional book recomendations, y'all! I'll probably finish these two within the next couple of days, so your books are likely to be tracked down and devoured.

Jake and Anneli have made their decision. They're quitting the team and heading down to Texas, where they'll be staying with Jake's family. Until they get on their feet, that is. One of his uncles has a position lined up for him, it seems. It's a factory position, but hey it's something. Jake's fortunate to be heading home with a job waiting.

Going home with a bun in the oven! I wonder how Jake's family will react to a pregnant daughter-in-law whom they've never met? They seem like cool people, from the way he's described them, so it should be ok. I don't envy Anneli that first day, meeting everyone and trying to make a good impression. She's spoken to his Mom and Dad on the phone, so she won't be meeting them completely out of the blue.

They'll be catching a plane on Wednesay, and there's that, two more people gone. Insert big sigh here. Why do they get to go? Just because she got knocked up. Hell, I could have done that. Or I could have royally f*cked up my knee, and "see ya guys!" I could be at home with my Dad and my kitty and my friends and my pink patchwork comforter my Aunt Laura made for me when I was a baby. Bastards and their excuses.

Caeled (our computer expert) has been trying to figure out what's wrong with my laptop - yesterday I had a couple dozen fonts, and today, all I have is 'Arial'. How weird is that? Where would the fonts go? Who would steal fonts? Very weird. When you look in the control panel, 'fonts' folder they're all there. Why can't I use them in a document? Hmm.

Considering the amount of cranking necessary to use the laptop and time and effort to keep it clean and functional out in the wild, I'm considering shipping it home. I'd like to reduce the amount of heavy crap that I'm carrying, and all the assorted stuff for the laptop, its batteries, power supply, discs, DVDs, on and on, I just don't know if it's worth it anymore.

I've managed to ween myself from television, so internet access seems the next vice to quash. Caeled would be keeping his laptop, so if we needed to look up an emergency first-aid factoid (not that you aren't brilliant, Ms. Church), we could still do that. I don't know if I wanna lug this stuff any more. I need to thoroughly mull the idea and its repurcussions.

Maybe I would finally get some writing done if I wasn't distracted by The Web. It's so easy to get carried from one page to another, willy nilly, without end. It's almost like the seven degrees of Kevin Bacon thing - each page always makes me think about someone or something else, so I'll stay on 'Just another five minutes' which turns into hours of mindless clicking.

Ok, it's not exactly mindless and I do learn interesting facts, but to what use? I am a treasure trove of useless information, and short of going on a game show, I don't know what good it would do me.

Speaking of game shows, I phone-tested for 'Win Ben Stein's Money' years ago, back when it was still in production. I passed, (it was surprisingly easy) and they wanted me to come down for the in-person tests. Of course, I was too young to qualify at that time, so I never went. I've always liked Ben Stein though, I have a thing for smart and funny guys. Plus he looks like he'd be ticklish.

Litany Webb, signing off

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New Books For To Read!

2005-06-19T09:24:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 125

I finally got some new books! Per excellent reader recommendations, I picked up ‘White Oleander’ by Janet Fitch, and ‘Magician’ by Raymond Feist - (they didn’t have "Magician: Apprentice", I so settled for this one). Heather - I couldn’t find the books you recommended, though I looked! It was a used bookstore, so variety was limited.

I’ve just started White Oleander, and so far it’s good. We traded in our old books and actually have a smidgen of credit left, which we will spend long before we depart Fairbanks, I’m sure.

Eric - I haven't given up on finding a better job, but this one does have its benefits - I get paid weekly, in cash - and it keeps me in shape for the next leg of the hike. If something better comes along, I'll take it, but I don't want to waste time looking when I could be earning/saving.

Sharon - Not sure how long we'll be in town. Another few weeks, it seems. And how did we figure out how much money we'd need to get us this far? Anneli had a formula she wrote to help calculate it, and I'm not joking.

As for how much we'll need before we leave again, it all depends on Jake and Anneli at this point. I think they've decided to keep the baby, so now it's just a matter of when they'll leave. But this is just gossip - they've yet to tell us their plans in detail. They need to do that, and soon. But we've been trying not to pressure them.

I was off today which is cool. It’s nice to have nowhere to be, be able to veg. But instead of just sitting around, I ventured out into Fairbanks alone, to find some nook to sit and people-watch. There are more tourists than I expected, but I guess it’s practically summer.

I was walking past a bar around noon and two guys came spilling out, in the midst of a fight. I managed to avoid getting tangled up, which was a good thing because they were getting really viscious. That’s why you should drink at home with friends!

I borrowed a couple of DVDs from a guy at work (Hi Daniel!) and so last night we enjoyed ‘Freddy vs. Jason’ and ‘Blue Velvet‘. Funky movies, both of them.

I love DVDs, they’re so tiny. VHS tapes were just so clunky! And movie media are just gonna keep getting smaller - look at the Sony PSP discs, which have movies on them now. I wonder if Sony DVD players will one day be able to play PSP media?

I’m gonna be sharing music with the peeps at work, so when we leave Fairbanks, I should have a decent sized new music library. It’s odd, but at least half of the guys at work are huge Country fans.

I guess it’s my fault for assuming, but I never pictured Ack as a base of Country music fandom. I’m not really into country, though some of it is fun. I prefer the funny songs to the woe-is-me-songs.

Gabe’s absence has resulted in greater spaciousness at the campsite. We’re rotating through, and everyone is getting one night alone in their very own personal tent. Tonight will be my night, and it’s gonna be sweet! The Freedom! The Scratching! I can’t wait!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Christian Bale is HOT

2005-06-18T09:26:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 124

Gabe emailed to say he arrived safely, and he's going to see Spamalot this weekend. What a tease. Can't believe I miss him.

I got paid! I know it's odd to get paid after working for only like four days of work. My question is, who pays their people in cash? And I have no pay stub indicating how much tax was sent to Uncle Sam. You don't mean... But they... What about social security?

So yeah, it seems that we're all getting paid Under The Table, which is a weird phrase because Frank (bossman) handed me an envelope, and it never came near a table, under or otherwise.

Ok - in lieu of sanctioned taxes, there is the hungry behemoth at work in the guise of your friendly neighborhood vending machine. The thing is filled to the brim with wicked cream-filled goodness, and since we working peeps walk all day, we are drawn to this devil ex machina.

But who has money? No problem, cause Frank will keep a tab for you. He's so thoughtful. And it comes out of your 'check' automatically. I can personally testify that getting sugar on credit is the road to ruin, and I'm gonna need to stop indulging if we're ever gonna earn any money and leave this burg.

Living at the campsite is okay. It's certainly the cheapest dwelling I have ever rented - a basic apartment in Los Angeles goes for $1200 a month, easily. The campsite will come out to $450 a month, which isn't bad in comparison.

Right now only three of us have jobs, and the rest of these mofo's need to get their butts in gear. It's so easy to spend on fun goodies after being on the road for so long, but we've gotta keep our eyes on the goal here!

I'm so fed up with our music library, I could just toss my iPod into the nearest bush. I can listen to it while I'm working, which is cool, but who wants to? I've heard these songs so damn many times, I can just imagine them playing - no batteries needed!

Songs get old so quick, and I really don't have the patience for listening to the radio - there's just so much repetition. The trouble with listening to music is that you always need more. It's almost a drug. You're slapping that vein and saying "I need new tunes!" like once a week.

And even new songs are just thinly disguised recycled tidbits from old songs. I think being a musician would be frustrating, since it seems there is so little innovation. You could make the same argument for writing, I know. Maybe I'll just join the Cult of Classical, and ignore any musician or writer who hasn't been dead for 500 years...

Litany Webb, signing off

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Grief'in...On a Jet Plane

2005-06-17T09:14:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 123

I was up and wide awake very early today (4:35am!) for whatever reason, maybe I was afraid of oversleeping. It's been raining on and off all morning, Ack is crying for Gabe's departure and this is fitting.

I went out and let myself get rained on. Everything was very quiet, all I could hear was the rain. It was a soothing, meaningful experience somehow. After I dried off, I scribbled out a new poem that might actually be halfways decent after some editing. I'll try to remember to post it, if it's ever worthy.

One thing I noticed about being up so early is, I still have not gotten around to getting some new books to read. I think I spotted a used bookstore, now I just have to remember where it was, once payday comes. I jotted down the suggestions you guys made - a few weeks ago was it? - and will be looking for those.

We went out to breakfast and then took the bus to the airport to drop off Gabe for his flight home. Despite all the caffeine, we were a pretty depressed bunch. You want your last meal together to be upbeat, but it's hard.

Good grief! Did you know it's like $600 to fly from Fairbanks to New York? One way! There's two very depressing words, 'one way'. Unless you're escaping from your miserable life where your husband beats you nightly and you head down to the train station and get your 'Destination Anywhere' going on. Then 'one way' has a note of righteous escape from a difficult situation.

We couldn't really dawdle at the airport, cause a few of us have jobs now, so it was painfully brief in more ways than one. Everybody cried at some point. Church got it out of the way during breakfast, and was dry-eyed later while the rest of us were all blubbering like fools. The guys tried to do their muy macho back slap, take care buddy bullsh*t but they were wiping their eyes too.

Gabe is a good solid guy and I know I've had issues with him in the past, (mostly my fault, stupid stuff, because I was being bitchy) but he was a solid member of the team and it really f*cking blows that he has to leave. At least he's leaving with all of his fingers, toes, and limbs - one of us could have been seriously hurt, and much worse than a knee injury. We've been very fortunate, lucky, and blessed.

You'd think that a job like mine would be hampered by the rain, but that's not how my boss see's it. I'm glad I packed well, for all weather conditions. But to protect the flyers, they give you this one-ply disposable poncho thing, which might as well be a garbage bag for how easily it tears.

So I slogged along in the rain, and the flyers were limp and pathetic. I wonder if the ink should happen to run and ruined someone's pretty door, could they sue the flyer company? I'll bet they could.

I'm just glad we weren't given a huge stack of little flyer condoms - like the little plastic jumper they put on newspapers - and have to sit there for hours creating individually wrapped pieces of junkmail that no one will ever read.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Ack, You Crack Me Up

2005-06-16T09:04:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 122

Share a sad sigh with me, Brothers and Sisters…

Gabe has received his plane ticket and leaves for the far far-away land of New York tomorrow. I didn’t know until I got back to camp after a long day of flyer stuffing.

Talk about coming home from work to bad news. I work and slave all day and I come home to no dinner and you’re in our bed, boffing the exterminator?? She’s all gross and stinky with rat poison, and you’re all up in there?

It’s a sad day and it helps that we‘re silly people.

Until today, we’d been avoiding talking about Gabe’s inevitable departure, instead we kinda pretended that it wasn’t going to be necessary, that he’d wake up one morning and feel better and the whole thing would work itself out.

So now we were forced to talk about how much we were gonna miss him, and how important he was to us, and we laughed and joked and remembered the stupid funny stuff and cried in the end, because deciding to go home is one thing, and this is another.

Sharon - I agree that if Gabe really wants to rejoin us, he’ll likely be able to. I know that surgeons have the mad skills nowadays, but I worry. We probably won’t know what to expect from Gabe for a month or two, until physical therapy is done.

We’re all gonna take Gabe out to an early breakfast tomorrow and celebrate our achievements, and then take him to the airport. I miss being able to walk people to the gate. In my family, we walked a person to the gate and waited with them and watched them board and waited till the plane took off and waved to the plane. I miss that. I know we’ll all miss Gabe.

Um.

Oh Ack, you so funny. Get a load of this crazyness - this eagle totally plowed through a guy’s window, into the house, left feathers everywhere, and escaped - but lost his fish. I know we’re in Fairbanks and all, but I still think that the Juneau Empire is da bomb Ackian periodical, yo.

Kato - I hear ya, it sucks when quality shows aren’t playing for whatever reason - but isn’t 'Connections' available on DVD? Get your Netflix on, son! Hell, buy the boxed set! Ha Ha that’s when you know it’s bad, when you’re buying PBS DVDs. I have to admit, I seriously considered getting '1900’s House' on DVD at one point.

Surely I’m not alone in my geekitude - Do you guys have any guilty pleasure shows?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Outsource THIS

2005-06-15T09:15:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 121

Eric - You're right about the job outsourcing thing. My friends in Los Angeles are in constant fear of losing their jobs, especially to India. The British just HAD to conquer them and teach them excellent English, didn't they?

There's a Connection for ya, Mister Burke! "How the British Occupation of India during the 18th Century led to the utter downfall of economic stability in the western hemisphere in 2007."

The scary thing is, jobs that can't be outsourced (and a great majority can) will one day be done by robots. My job could easily be done by a remote controlled car with a little robot arm on top, pulling a little wagon full of flyers.

I wonder if paper junk mail will one day cease to be, and it'll all be online ads and spam. Since you can pay all your bills online now, there's really little reason to ever go to your mailbox.

Heather - How long do I plan on working? As short a time as possible! Isn't that true for everyone? Not that I mind work, I appreciate putting in hours and accomplishing something, and going home at the end of the day feeling like I did a good job, proud of my work ethic and all that BS.

And of course, annoying people with flyers gives me a great sense of job satisfaction.

As for what our target funds level is - not sure yet. We're still figuring out what equipment can be repaired and what needs replacing, and if we leave Fairbanks with 5 people instead of 8, that changes the amount of food and other supplies we'll need.

The insect problem was getting pretty heinous the last few weeks of the hike. Caeled is all about complete coverage of his person, including duct taping at wrists and ankles. Shudder.

I can't even consider such a thing. I get claustrophobic just thinking about it. I would feel a little trickle of sweat run down my face and I wouldn't be able to see it or scratch it and I would think there was a bug inside my clothes and I couldn't get it, and I'd end up flailing on the ground, shrieking and clawing at my extremities. No thanks.

Adrian got a job giving out samples for some Thai place. If there is a worse job than sticking little bits of food on toothpicks and trying to convince people to eat it, I don't want to know about it. I'd much rather muck out stables. At least there would be horses to pat-pat.

Mmmn, Red Curry Chicken and Thai Noodles... (insert Homer salivating sound here...) Good thing I'm still walking all day every day - I'd gain ten pounds a week with all this food.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Wessstiiiiiidde!

2005-06-14T09:23:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 120

Holy Cow, I find myself suddenly gainfully employed. Whee! I am happy to be contributing to the group. Minimum Wage Baby!

Today was my first day, and I'll be getting paid weekly. It's a good thing too, the camp site charges us $15 per day for occupancy, which is not freakishly high, but it adds up. Kwame provides daily food now, which will greatly help fundage saving abilities. Once we manage to start saving, that is. Kwame's pizza place also does chicken wings, so we are not destined to one day hate pizza.

Kthrne - I'm happy to hear that your posts are not lost forever... Of course, if someone chooses to delete their own stuff, well who better to judge? It was just jarring - like arriving at a restaurant you enjoy frequenting, only to discover the walls are missing and most of the tables are gone. You're like "Whaaaa??"

Robin - I can appreciate the need for a private journal, I do look back at these posts sometimes and cringe. So far, I have resisted the urge to delete stuff, but I feel ya!

Oh, what job did I get? I'm leery to mention it, because I have taken a job that performs a function that no one appreciates. I'm not cheerful about my function, but it will help me to keep in shape while we put together the funds for more supplies, replace some gear, and make some difficult decisions. So far only Kwame and myself have jobs, the other peeps are looking, but no luck yet.

Since I really had no phone number to put on my job applications, I was reduced to just stopping by and saying "Hey, remember me, that girl who's lookin for work?" At this morning's second stop, they were like "Yeah we remember you - Can you lift fifty pounds?"

Hell, my pack weighs like 500 pounds. I told them as much. I got the job after a demonstration of my manly strength. The guy said: "All right then, you can have the job if you can start right now."

"Bring it." I should have said. I think it was, "Um, Ok."

All right, you've been patient. My job. Ummm. You know how you get up in the morning, you're late for work, and you're bustling out the door with your purse and work bag and your little tupperware lunch container and your keys and the movies to be returned to Blockbuster and you hurry outside and try to lock the door...

And there's some crummy flyer from some random retail business rubber-banded to your doorknob? And you mutter a few curse words and yank the stupid flyer off and toss it inside on the floor by the front door (cause you don't wanna litter your outside doorway) and grumble about how stinkin spam is everywhere?

Well if you live on the west side of Fairbanks, you can thank me for the stinkin stupid flyer on your doorknob. You should have seen me when I left the Stupid Flyer Depot this morning. They give you this industrial-strength apron thing with all these pockets and they load you up like you're a freakin pack mule. I didn't get to weigh this sh*t, but I swear it totaled a hundred pounds easy. But it's distributed front and back, so that helps.

Until you imbalance yourself because it's easier to reach the ones in front and next thing you know you have an awful backache without knowing why, and then you realize you're straining just to keep upright, and it's your own fault. I'm not whining, I'm just describing how it was.

Today I spent all day rubber-banding flyers for 'You're Special Flowers & Gifts' onto unsuspecting people's doorknobs. They seem to be a snazzy shop with very nice gift baskets. I murmured a little prayer for each flyer delivered, "I'm sorry for the litter, but maybe you'll actually find this useful."

Actually, that's how the mantra started out. By midday, it was "Sorry." without any true repentance. And by late afternoon, it was "Ugnh." Yes by that point I was grunting in apology.

I got lost coming back and came close to being eaten by several supposedly tame dogs.

I ran out of rubber bands about lunchtime, (they were cheap and a good third of them snapped when I tried to use em) and ended up just sticking the flyer into the crevice between door and frame. Which is even more annoying for the resident, I know.

Ugnh.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Post-Partum Deletion

2005-06-13T08:59:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 119

Robin - Thanks for the well-wishes! With as many job applications as I put in, someone's gotta be interested. I tried to present myself as a hard-working, intelligent person willing to go the extra mile and all that crap... We'll see.

As for Gabe rejoining us, I'm all for that.
I don't know where we'll be when he's ready - After the surgery, he'll need physical therapy, and we won't know till after that's over if he can manage to hike on his knee all day every day for years on end. The man's hiking days may well be over. Unless they give him a bionic leg. That would be super cool.

Reading Kthrne's delightful blog the other day, I was sad to see she'd gone through and deleted a bunch of posts. Obviously it's her realm and her word is law, but I miss those old posts.

Sometimes I go back and re-read old posts that I remember fondly - and what isn't to like about Kthrne's blog? Erotic art, The Love of The One True Shatner, Economics, Mouthless Flesh Gnawers, I could go on and on!

Some bloggers are wont to delete stuff (Robin!) and I guess I'll just have to start saving them as text documents, so that years later, I can peruse them and grin, and remember a time when Kato wasn't an International Pop Sensation.

My own personal view on deleting old posts is Bad Idea. We all get moody sometimes and look at what we've written and say "Yuck." I had a journal in seventh grade that I wrote in every day, I was completely honest and open and frank with myself.

Then we moved and I lost the journal for like a year. And when I found it again and read it, I couldn't stand how much I'd changed. I seemed so naive on those pages, from the immense perspective of just one year. I burned it in this ancient incinerator in our back yard, which probably hadn't been used in forty years and smoked so bad, the neighbor called the fire department.

(You would not believe how much trouble I got into for lighting up that incinerator. I mean, it's not like I was roasting kittens over a gasoline-filled coffee can or something. Apparently using an appliance built of cement and brick designed expressly for burning refuse is the wrong thing to do. I got a talking to from the neighbor, from the firemen, and from Dad.)

I look back now and I'm sorry I burned the journal, because as poorly written and naive and babbly a thing it had been, (not high-brow or classy like my current writing) it was a snapshot of me at that moment, in that time of my life, and I'll never get it back again.

What could that journal teach me now, what have I lost, what insight would I now be able to wring out of the pages that I was oblivious to when I scribbled my hasty, heartfelt words?

So deleted posts make me sad, even when they're not mine. I'd say if there was one lost item from my youth (yeah yeah I'm still a kid, ptthppp whatever) it would be that journal.

What would you guys reclaim from your youth?
Hmmmn?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Scary Undead Grandma Church

2005-06-12T09:26:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 118

Not a fun day today.

Gabe got some hard news - it turns out, he can get his knee operation, but only if the procedure is performed within his parent’s local insurance network, by a doctor in that network. Which for Gabe means New York. Since he can’t keep hiking on his knee the way it is, he’s got to go. Now it’s just a question of when.

I feel awful for him, it's one thing to make the decision to go - quite another to have it forced upon you. He hasn't set a date for the flight home yet.

I applied today for a whole bunch of jobs. Saturday isn’t the best day for such things - with the consumers out and about and a bunch of places closed for the weekend, but I did my best. I went up one side of the street and down the other, and hit every place. I hope I get a bite from one of them.

Celia - Fairbanks doesn’t really strike me as being built by drunks… I’d say it had a very organic feel to it. Lotsa curves. I can see why you might say that though! I’m just happy to be in a place where you can plop down your cash for a succulent hot chocolate.

Kwame brought us some yummy pizza, as promised. Pizza is one of the few foods I can enjoy cold as well as hot. I can eat pizza right out of the fridge. The only other cooked food I can think of that is good hot, cold, or at room temperature is fried chicken.

Hey Adrian - you should get a job at KFC!

My thumbnail is still sore, but better. It looks worse than ever, but I don’t think I’m gonna lose the nail. I lost a toenail once, after I dropped a hammer on my foot. It’s gross, but at least on your foot you can keep it covered.

Church, she of the amazing immune system, has finally caught a cold. She woke up this morning sounding like she had a frog in her throat. Her voice is all jacked up, and not in the sexy cold voice kind of way.

I mean, the scary undead grandmother kind of way. I had much fun listening to her talk. I made requests, and enjoyed the results with much enjoyment. The best was “I love you mommy”. She sounds like Tim Curry in Legend.

Litany Webb, singing off

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The Girl - In The Coffeeshop - With the Lead Pipe.

2005-06-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 117

We gave blood today! Blood's ever so important, give some thought to sharing your precious fluids!

Kwame went to work today - none of the rest of us schlubs have found employment yet. Of course, spending nearly 3 hours watching Star Wars took a big bite out of the day...

Although I did make $1 during a visit to a coffee shop! This could be the beginning of an all new career for me, and for lazy slobs like myself across the world.

Ok, here's how it went down. We got there in the morning, in the midst of a on-the-way-to-workers waiting for their caffeine fix. It's me and Church, I'm plotting to get me some hot Cocoa, and I get in line. She's just along for the wait.

When we joined the line, there was a good ten people ahead of me. So we're chatting, getting closer to the front, and Church spies a dog who's just getting tied up outside. She decides that she must go and meet said puppy.

She leaves me to go pet the doggie, who is this adorable shaggy mutt and promptly sheds all over her, but she doesn't care. She comes inside with the owner just as I'm about to be next...

And she and the puppy owner cruise on up to me:
"Hi I'm Max. Church says I can buy your place in line for a dollar?"

Church nods encouragingly at me.
"Um. Ok." I mumble.

Back to the end I go, with Church practically giggling about how cute Max is. He's ok, not all that - not my type. I think she's been out in the wilderness too long.

But the selling of the place in line was inspired. I mean, these folks are trying not to be late for work. I'm in no rush. I wonder how much I could make per day just standing in line, and selling my spot.

Of course, it depends on what the people are waiting in line for, and the time of day. Morning and evening rush hour. Somewhere like the DMV or other government offices or airport ticket counters...or maybe even coffee shops!

Perhaps it would work as a team thing - one person by the door of the establishment, outside if it's a small place, and the other person inside, in line.

Someone approaches the establishment -
"Hey Buddy, it's real crowded in there - aren't you late for work?"

"Yeah?"
"Listen, give the girl in the red shirt a dollar, she'll give you her spot."
"Really. What a great service! Thank you, mysterious stranger."
"Hey no problem."

We wouldn't have to make tons of cash, just enough to average out to minimum wage. And the tips! Don't get me started. I'd be pimpin my backpack with velvet and sequins hoo haa!.

Oh! And I need some new underwear. We did some browsing at clothing stores, and I gotta tell you, new underwear looks nice! The fabrics! The colors!

And when did this whole 'elastic' invention debut? Keen!

As I rinse my sad underthings at the spigot of the campsite, I remember the last time I saw such a sad pair of drawers - they belonged to my first boyfriend, and when I saw them, I made him throw them away. Yeah, it's time for new panties...

Litany Webb, signing off

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Dear Santa, I Would Like Lightsaber and a Wookie.

2005-06-10T09:48:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 116

We saw 'Revenge of the Sith' last night! Woot! I have to tell you, after months of no movie theater experiences at all, going to see a Lucasfilm really blows a person away.

The Human Race is just a collection of noisy, rude, thoughtless, crude annoying creatures, and they jostled me in line and kicked my seat and talked during the movie and wrote letters on their gigantic cell phones with ultra bright 13" screens during the intro of the movie, with the words tilting off into the distance. Ugh! Do you mind??

The movie was very yummy eye candy, and the writing was poor. Jake loved it, of course. But he's genetically predisposed to be in favor, Jake is a fan like his father before him, and all that jazz.

Psst- Santa, I think a golden colored lightsaber would be cool! It might be hard to see at times, but that is my opponent's problem, ha ha ha!

After months without tasting theater butter-flavored oily by-product, I gotta tell you, I don't know how I ever liked the stuff. It was awful! And the Coke was cloyingly sweet. What am I becoming? A health nut? No, I love Twinkies too much for that.

The sights and sounds of Fairbanks are assaulting my poor sensitive senses and was quite a lot to take in, with the cars and the buses and the laughing and the talking, everyone talking.

I half expected a migraine to be delivered to me by stork special order. Not that I get them, but I half-expected one. But no headache, just irked. Just think if I were in a big city, instead of charming Fairbanks with the trees and the nice.

I have been spoiled by quiet solitude.

Mike - We might be able to find replacements for our three before we left Fairbanks, but we don't know for sure yet what's gonna happen. We can't put out a recruitment call before they've even made their decisions..."Who's this?" - "Oh this is George, he'll be replacing you."

Kwame, smooth operator that he is, got a job washing dishes at a pizza place. Did you know that minimum wage in Ack is $7.15? It's only $6.75 in CA! Needless to say, we are tingling with anticipation for his first day, which will be tomorrow, and we're looking forward to the leftover pizza he will bring back to camp for us, oh my yes.

A large deep crust, with pepperoni, mushrooms, and olives please, thank you. Actually I don't think I've ever met a pizza I didn't like, and that includes the ones with anchovies. Pineapple can be hard to eat cause they leave the chunks so large...

Kwame is the first and only one to find a job so far, and he seemed to luck into it, he was chatting up some girlie who worked there, taking a smoke break, and he sauntered up and got his charm on.

Mebbe the rest of us can go job searching with Kwame, he can do all the talking and get us the mad hook up. He starts tomorrow at 7am of all times. What is there to do in a pizza place at 7am? Wash yesterday's pans, I guess.

A better spot opened up at the campground, and we moved yet again, but this time with everyone's help (sans Gabe) which made it much less frustrating. It was actually handy to have Gabe sit there to watch the stuff as the rest of us made trips.

This is beginning to feel like the MASH episode where Frank keeps ordering them to move The Unit back and forth across the road at whim. "The M stands for Mobile!"

Litany Webb, signing off

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Forceps. Scalpel. Whipped Cream.

2005-06-09T09:22:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 115

Mmn, Citronella Candles...So Seductive, Swoon.

It was not ten minutes after Kwame and Adrian left on their resupply excursion yesterday morning, the Camp Boss Lady - aka Rachel - stopped by for a chat. Rachel was very nice about the whole thing, but Caeled and I were told we had to move from the random unoccupied plot we'd all set up camp upon.

There was no one manning - er - womaning the office when we arrived that night, so we took a chance and just picked an open one. The site we annexed had been reserved by other folks, due in anytime now... And so the two of us had to break camp and move everything clear across the campsite to this crummy plot with a broken water spigot. Ah well, no biggie. I was getting soft after my five consecutive hours of sitting.

I want to say "Thank you pron_king181" for the unsecured WIFI connection, whoever you are. I hope you're not the immense, hairy, greenish fishbelly pale dude who keeps leaving his baroque monstrosity of an RV practically nude to adjust something on the backside. Yeah Hi, stop waving at me, I'm not your friend.

Ahh internet access! I wish I could just tap into a vein and mainline a few gigs. Just a few gigs big daddy, Please!

Anneli and Jake are definitively pregnant!
Previous speculations per their successful fertilization have been confirmed by experts in the field, including a powerful iconic figure described quite mysteriously as 'Dr. Ice Hands'.

They gave Anneli a blood test, and thusly confirmed that "H.C.G." (the You're a Mama, Sho Nuff Hormone) was present in her system, and they did an ultrasound to "confirm a normal pregnancy". Normal as opposed to the kind where the little one is growing inside your fallopian tube, or some such. So it's official, a little tyke is in Anneli and Jake's future. Now they have some decisions to make. I'll let you know when I know...

Jake and Anneli were sent away with a clean bill of health, a bill of the monetary sort, and fistfulls of "You're Pregnant!" pamphlets. How are these people supposed to make informed life and death decisions armed with stupid pamphlets?

"On the 'Gabe f*cked up his knee' front, we go now to Church, LIVE on the ground next to me. Church, what's it like there on the scene?"

"Well Litany, you have far too much free time on your hands."
"Good to know, Church. What can you tell us about Gabe?"
"He's resting comfortably, rather pissed at the world."

So yeah. His folks have agreed to pay for the surgery to fix his knee. It turns out that Gabe's medical family member is a Dentist. So much for a second opinion or a cheap operation... Although really, how hard can knee surgery be? Give me a knife and some tongs, I'll hook you up bro! Hmn, maybe not.

Robin - If Anneli, Jake and Gabe were to quit, we'd be losing our Engineer, Survival Expert, and our Equipment Specialist. Anneli is not as vital as Jake or Gabe (don't get me started on my personal lack of usefulness to a hiking group) but that's just up to this point. We have not needed her to build us a bridge or design a shelter to protect us from a typhoon or calculate the specific gravity of liquids when applied to the second law of thermodynamics. Yet.

Obviously Church as medical pro is the most vital person, and so far she's all about keeping up the hike. It is possible to go on without the three of them, but my concern is that once three people drop out, others will find reason to. So it's pins and needles impatient fun, and we'll just have to wait and see.

Kwame and Adrian brought back the planned-for goodies, and a few random mags as well. Brad and Angelina Jolie?? I leave the civilized world for a few months, and everything goes to the dogs. Brad was supposed to leave Jennifer for ME! Ugh, now I have to call Brad and straighten this whole thing out.

Also, Twinkies are the work of Satan and I cannot resist them. I ate mine and then arm-wrestled Caeled for his second Twinkie and I won. I was not surprised, my desire for Guar Gum knows no bounds. And don't get me started on Partially Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil, mm- hmmm aw yeah baby.

Litany Webb, signing off

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And I Wacked Myself But Good

2005-06-08T09:36:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 114

Huzzah! We arrived in Fairbanks at about 9:30 last night, and I promptly mashed my thumb pounding in a stake for the tent. Under the nail is now all icky brownish red. I put some dark blue nail polish on it to hide the yuck factor. I hope the nail doesn't fall off, that would look even more gross.

Church and Gabe ended up happily sleeping in chairs at the Emergency Room, and enjoying indoor plumbing. (it's interesting what qualifies as a hardship after months on the road - before the walk, I'd opt for a root canal before spending all night in an ER - now it sounds kinda nice) They got to take showers for free! This may seem like glorious charity, but as I've indicated before, we are rather odorous, (a sponge bath only does so much) so it was probably a humanitarian gesture on behalf of everyone in that wing of the hospital.

Since Gabe wasn't bleeding from head or other vital organs, it took almost four hours before they were seen and Gabe examined. And then of course, they have to take your temp and blood pressure and all that crap, when what we needed most was an X-Ray of his knee.

It turns out, Gabe has (And I'm quoting Church here, because this is all Greek to me) "An Articular Cartilage Injury, with a floating loose body or cartilage chip, interfering with the joint." They gave him an ice pack and some Tylenol and told him he'd need surgery.

So he's talking to his family, and figuring out what is to be done. Gabe has a relative who's some kind of doctor, but he's not sure what kind. We'll know more in a day or two.

Jake and Anneli tented with the rest of us, and first thing this morning, they headed out to the hospital to get Annelli examined. Since they have no appointment and no injury per se "I've been on a hiking trip for months and I think I'm pregnant and I'm worried for my baby" does not beat out the guy who just nailed a spike through his foot. So we'll see.

Our group is so damned small all of a sudden. I felt fear - I was actually afraid. There are four people missing, four people who have been in constant earshot for months and now it feels like they're lost or missing - -

"Where the hell is Chuch and Jake and Anneli and Gabe!! Where where where?!" my subconscious demands, frantic. "We lost them somewhere, they're hurt, they fell down a ravine, where is everyone?"

Am I so weak-willed? Seems so. I had to grit my teeth and breathe deeply and remind myself that everyone is alive and well, they are safe and sound at the medical center, and they will not die just because I'm not there to reassure myself.

I baby-sat for a toddler once, (Hi lil Gina!) and almost the whole time she was taking a nap. I must have checked in on her fifty times in two hours, because God Forbid anything should happen to the kiddo on my watch. The life and death responsibility was scary. The sudden lack of four members of the team was the same sort of feeling, I just really wanted to be able to peek in on them and make sure our four wayward walkers were safe.

Heather - life after Fairbanks, Hell Yeah! I don't know exactly how it's gonna work, but I'm gonna do my best.

Caeled and I got stuck guarding the gear and campsite while Adrian and Kwame have just set out into the city to procure a newspaper, fresh bread, bologna, twinkies, TP, an assortment of batteries, and thank you deity, many cans of 'Deep Woods OFF!'

Litany Webb, signing off

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The Most Excellent Bruno Putney!

2005-06-07T08:31:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 113

Heather - thanks muchly for your thoughtful words! You can always be counted on for insight and quality advice. I think one of your very first tidbits was the 'deodorant makes you stinkier' factoid, and it's true!

At the end of the hike yesterday, after another slow day totaling five miles, Church gave Gabe a thorough exam, focused on his knee. It was frightfully discolored and swollen. I had to leave the tent.

When he could not withstand the exam, (i.e. he screeched like a mortally wounded rabbit. If you've never heard a bunny scream, take my word for it and don't because it's a horrible sound) it became very clear that he was in far too much pain to be walking on the knee. How he managed five miles today is a mystery.

What a goofus. Why he felt the need to be a hero is beyond me. Everyone was willing to put up with me when I hurt my ankle, why he thought we'd treat him any differently, I don't know.

Maybe he thought he could make it, and didn't want to say "I almost made it to Fairbanks" which I can understand.

We all got into a huge confrontation with Gabe, trying to get him to agree to catch a ride, come morning. He was adamant about making it to town on his own two feet. We all stayed firm and told him that he could be tearing apart his knee from the inside, and that knee surgery could only repair so much.

He could have torn cartilage or a torn ligament, or both - there's no telling, we can't know. He needs to be properly examined. And with no job, and no insurance, it's fully stupid to keep walking on it, short of a life or death situation.

He would not agree, and in the end we had to tell him that if he didn't catch a ride, no one would be hiking the next day. We would all stay put, we'd sit on his gear, and he wasn't going anywhere.

Oh, it was ugly. He really wanted to keep walking, and he wasn't budging. But when you have seven other people who only want the best for you, eventually you cave. You can't fight kindness with cussing, though he tried.

So first thing this morning, we hailed a few passing trucks - the third one that stopped had a driver - Mr. Bruno Putney, thank you, yer a good man - willing to take Gabe into town. Church went along - she's not of the psycho mindset that most of us are, that she feels the need to physically tread every last step. We had discussed sending Anneli instead, but then Jake would want to go too, and she's only a few weeks pregnant, anyhow.

We sent the heavy equipment along with the two of them, and we hope to make a forced march to Fairbanks and hopefully arrive by late tonight. We're about thirteen miles away, we think. Since sunset doesn't deign to arrive until about 12:30am these days, it's pretty darned likely we'll make it during the 'day' even if we get in at 11pm. Weird I know. And sunrise is about 3:15am, it's bizarre.

We need to dig out, combine and count our fundage - it's good and it's odd not to worry about money, or where your purse, ID and ATM card are for weeks on end. We'll have to pay for the campground when we arrive in town, yuck, but running water will make it well worth it!

I feel really bad for Gabe. It's not like he was showing off or being stupid when he got hurt. He was just putting one foot in front of the other. And we forced him to lose the last thirteen miles to Fairbanks.

If he gets examined and the Docs tell him we were wrong and he was right, I don't know what he'll do. But you have to err on the side of caution. I'd be happy to return to this very spot and hike these miles with him in a few weeks, when he's better...

Litany Webb, signing off

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Please Excuse The Mess...

2005-06-06T08:51:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 112

Gabe’s knee was improved enough that we moved on today, though slowly. We made only about five miles total. We’re trying to convince him - not a fun project - to allow us to get him a ride into Fairbanks.

We’re only about eighteen miles out at this point. He’s moving on the knee, but we’re not sure he should be. It’s clear that it’s causing him pain with every step. We’re gonna try to encourage him to stop hiking and catch a ride.

I’m pleased to report that Day 1 of Jake and Anneli’s engagement went well, not a tiff to be heard! I’ve passed all of your thoughtful congratulations on to the happy couple, and they send back a cheerful thanks! I think they're enjoying all the extra attention.

Dad’s doing good, I’ve taken to calling him morning and night now, instead of the once per day as was our habit before he got sick.

Heather - Thanks for the hiking-while-preggers info! Wow, seven months is a long time. I don’t know that she should walk for that long, even if she could. And with a damn heavy pack to carry, the chance of slipping and falling, getting hit by an eighteen wheeler, on and on.

Enid - The wedding plans, I dunno. I would guess that they would fly to their family, probably hers, and marry there. I mean, what’s cheaper, flying like twenty people to Ack or two people to Maine?

Anneli and Jake haven’t discussed their exact plans with us yet - They want to get to a doctor, and get her checked out, make sure she’s really pregnant, and how far along, and what is the health of the baby if she is with child, certainment.

And after they get answers to their prenatal queries, they’ll be able to make an informed decision. If it was me, I think I would have to play it super safe and get my ass to a civilized city pronto, and make sure I went to the doctor daily weekly or bimonthly or whatever the correct fetus-scanning schedule is.

How could you tell your kid “Sorry you were born with club feet. If only I’d taken the proper amount of riboflavin. My bad. But you know, I was busy hiking through Ack right then and couldn‘t be bothered to stop. Now gimp on over there and get Momma the TV Guide.” No.

I overheard Caeled and Gabe chatting about Jake and Anneli’s situation, and they were both opting for having the couple stay with us. There is definite willingness to help carry Anneli's gear, make allowances, etc which is so cool. But they're also talking as if quitting the hike would be like losing a contest or something. I didn’t speak up to them, but it did get me thinking.

If Jake and Anneli quit the hike - I mean this is really a kind of extended vacation, even though it feels more important than that. I don't know that I buy in to the whole "I need to find myself" bullshit. You can meditate on your Purpose at home, you shouldn't need close encounters with grizzlies to Get Real.

Why does The Pilgrimage seem more important to us than a longer than average camping trip? I don’t know. It’s not like we’re charting new territory, Claiming New Land For Queen and Country or anything. I think it has personal importance for each of us, we all have our own reasons for being here.

I know that I was really fed up with life in the city, and all of the bullsh*t of daily life. But who isn’t? I just wanted to get some perspective, spend time in the great outdoors, and hopefully meet lots of people.

I mostly wanted to meet people, and we’ve met far fewer than I’d hoped. Obviously we picked the wrong state, if we want to meet and greet. I can think of a good twenty states that are more populous than Ack. Of course, a higher population doesn't mean the people will be friendly. I feel the inverse is true, in high density areas.

Cindy - Greets and Welcome. Sorry I did not say Hi the other day, we’ve got a lot going on (stuff is actually happening for a change!) and I’m very easily distracted. Sorry the place is such a mess just now. Usually I’m not so serious, don’t get the wrong idea. Read back a few weeks and give the goofy babblings a skim.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Extra Extra! Read All About It!

2005-06-05T09:33:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 111

Another day of no progress. We're almost to Fairbanks, we can see the lights aglow in the sky at night, taunting us. But it's all good, I'm in no hurry to get a day job just yet.

My Word, all sorts of sh*t be transpiring in this here locality!

You'll be largely spared from the sad, typical ratio of 2% hiking news, 98% rambling inane BS because for once, some stuff happened.

First, a bit of a flashback. It turns out that Church and Anneli were fighting yesterday because Church caught Anneli going through the medical supplies. You see, no one gets to rifle through the medical supplies. The proper procedure is to go through Church, who knows exactly where everything is.

She'll deliberate your actual need for the item, find it, record its use in her Meds Inventory - I'm not exaggerating - and help you use it, if necessary. She's very good, very thorough, and very anal about the whole thing.

So Church caught Anneli going through the medical supplies, and a "What do you think you're doing" and "None of your beeswax" tiff occurred. Only louder and with more swear words.

It wasn't until Church saw what Anneli was taking that she backed down, a flurry of whispering took place, and I walked in as they cheerfully discussed the weather with much animation.

And then last night, during a contemplative, digestive, vegetative after-dinner moment around one of our very rare campfires (we're getting more bold, this close to civilization) Jake stood up, knelt at Anneli's feet and asked her to marry him.

"Anneli, would you do me the honor of marrying me?" he said bravely. He was so cute right then, I might have said yes if he asked me with that same look on his face, and the firelight just so.

Anneli smiled and flushed and said "Yes!" almost immediately and they hugged and kissed and we all cheered. It was a very beautiful moment, and for once the eight of us were all cheery and happy at the same time.

He'd made her a cute little ring he made out of copper wire, it's a precious little thing.

And if you have not guessed by now, Anneli was digging through the medical supplies for a pregnancy test. She was like 2 weeks late (yes, THAT kind of late - since we have no jobs or schedules, there's only one way for a girl to be late...)

So now Jake and Anneli are engaged and they are also pregnant. They wanted to be engaged before we all knew that she is With Child. Obviously this raises lots of questions, ones I don't want to ask her but really want the answers to.

Is she gonna keep the baby?

Is she gonna marry Jake?

How will her parents feel about her bringing home a white boy?

How are they going to find somewhere to live in 9 months or less?

How will they/he find a job with good insurance in 9 months or less?

Until which trimester can you hike all day long?

How will their decisions effect the rest of us? How can I even waste time on how I will be effected - it's all about the baby, and Anneli needs excellent prenatal care, starting instantly.

The whole 'sleeping outside in danger of wolves and bears and avalanches' has got to stop for the three of them, obviously. I'm trying to picture what I would do if I was the pregnant personage.

I don't know. I could say one thing now, and feel totally different if I was actually in the situation. We all have a lot to think about and discuss, and we have to be sure we don't put any pressure on Anneli, or make her feel bad if/when they want to leave the group.

In other health-related news, Gabe's knee is doing slightly better. The swelling has gone down, and he has a very respectable bruise going on, with some impressive discoloration. You take an involuntary inhalation through gritted teeth when you see it - you know the sound I mean, the "oooh, that's gotta hurt" sound.

I'll keep you guys posted.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Mmmn Cherry Garcia

2005-06-04T08:39:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 110

We're taking an unscheduled rest day - Gabe slipped on some mucky mud about an hour into today's hike and wrenched his knee. It's all swollen and angry-looking now and he has trouble putting weight on it.

He's a brave dude, but the way he yelped when he tried to stand up and immediately fell over again, I know it's gotta hurt pretty bad. Without an X-Ray, we can't know what's going on inside. For right now he's keeping off his feet, keeping that leg elevated, and we're waiting for the swelling to go down.

He might be able to continue with a splint and a make-shift crutch. But if the knee problem is serious, we might have to resort to a stretcher or a litter. That's gonna be fun, carrying the man all the way to Fairbanks. But it could have been me that got hurt, so no complaining here.

Hey maybe we could make like a moving dollie instead of a stretcher. It always seems uncanny how a heavy load becomes so manageable when you tip it just so. Hmn, but would Gabe allow one of us to tip him just so? That would take a lot of trust. One slick oily spot on the road and down he'd go. Nice theory, but probably a bad idea.

Ooh very cool - Thanks everyone for the interesting book recommendations! I plan to ambush a Barnes and Noble and hunt down each book for perusal.

Squirrley - welcome! I don't think you need to worry about your friend visiting Alaska. The people here are good, solid folks who are very down to earth and helpful. Night and day compared to Los Angeles, I can tell you!

Church and Anneli got into a fight this morning, I didn't catch what it was about, and by the time I got back to camp, they were being guardedly civil and strangely chatty, which made me even more curious. They wouldn't tell me what was up. I suck, I would make a terrible war correspondent wouldn't I - -

"This is Litany Webb, on the scene in... Where are we? I don't know where we are, but there's a lot of sand blowing around. Some people were shooting at some other people, and there are some dead bodies over by... uh, that building, you know - the tan colored brick one."

Janine - Kwame is doing fine, thanks for reminding me! We've been keeping an eye on him and so far he seems good. I think he might be overcompensating though, because he doesn't seem to be eating enough now. Loss of appetite, he says. I guess if seven people watched me like a hawk every time I picked up a spork, I'd lose my appetite too.

Hey there's a weight loss plan - plant a webcam in your kitchen and connect it to the internet. Log in to 'WatchMeSnack.com' Then people can watch your eating habits, and they know when you keep sneaking back in for another handful of cookies. Of course, you could just take the package into the living room and no one would be the wiser...

I'd worry about the food fetishists out there. "Ooh, she's eating Cherry Garcia again, right out of the carton. Ohhhh that's so hot, Pant Pant." and that would be weird.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Sherpas Do It On Top

2005-06-03T08:46:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 109

Dad went home from the hospital today. He has been armed with numerous pamphlets on Diabetes, and equipments like blood sugar testers and finger prickers and prescriptions and et cetera.

I can't imagine poking oneself multiple times daily. I avoid papercuts like the plague. An old friend of the family who is a nurse will be teaching him how to give himself injections of insulin. I hope I never have to do that.

Dad's been to see a dietician and they've put him on a thoroughly dull diet, as one would expect. I'm not there to enforce this diet thing, but I think that fear will help motivate him, at first anyway. Fear of dying, and fear of me kicking his butt. Hopefully the two together will keep him honest, and alive.

Oh, and Joann will be helping him too. I've been talking to her more now that Dad's sick, and she's pretty all right. I've revised my estimation of her, and I have decided that she is cool peeps. Perhaps I should go back and edit my grumpy remarks regarding her... I mean, she could be my step-mom one day. How weird is that.

As of a few minutes ago, I am without a book to read. We've all rotated the books we've brought along and now there is nothing new to consume. Looking forward to stocking up when we get in to a civilized location. Any recommendations, y'all? I want to take a look at Freakonomics, per Kthrne's praise - give me some more titles, oh my wise readers!

I've been deliciously anticipating our arrival in Fairbanks, which cannot arrive soon enough for my taste.

Things To Do In Fairbanks:

Hang with Delightful Dad (hopefully he can still come)

Find Work

Attend an All You Can Eat Buffet and PIG OUT until they call the cops.

Get Laid (should I be worried that food ranks above lovin?)

Sleep in a real bed at least once

Buy Many Books (ugh, so heavy for to carry)

Get Sh*tfaced Drunk (I've been without for months, so mebbe not)

Get Laid Again

Buy new batteries for all electronic items

Hire Sherpa to carry my sh*t the rest of the way to Chile (cuz damn).

Jump Sherpa's bones - you know they must have endurance, yow!

Fire Sherpa - it's not you it's me - buy Jeep, drive rest of the way.

Cause you know, the high-paying temp job I'll get with no place of residence, no phone, and no car will allow me to fund all these wild expectations. Bleh. I'm thinking, I'll have to fib to the employer. I mean, if they knew I was only in town for a few weeks until we earn enough for walking money, they're not gonna hire me.

Maybe temp agency work. Like something clerical. Dream on, Lit.

Today we came across another piece of litter too big for us to collect and carry - it was a box about the size a 20 inch TV comes in, and it was full of baby shoes, like the kind for kids too small to walk yet. They were all in their retail boxes, cute and pristine and lace-coated and useless. Why can't we find a crate of pancake mix or books or canned peaches or something? Noooo.

Litany Webb, signing off

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I Want My Empty V

2005-06-02T08:45:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 108

Big Hugs for all my wonderful peeps! Bless all of you for your thoughtful words, insight, and kind support. I couldn't ask for better friends. I can literally feel your helpful energies across all these lonely empty miles. It's when you're in trouble that you really know who your friends are!

I really appreciate that you all took the time to give me virtual hugs and guidance, they are very necessary and very welcome. Dad is doing better - and is also touched by all your kindness.

Good grief I'm going to start crying again.

Dad's supposed to get out of the hospital tomorrow and is not scheduled to die within the next decade.

Speaking of DEATH, I was reading Dooce the other day (as everyone does/should, as she is prurient bloggie cakey goodness mit frosting) and since there was no new post just then - what, does she have a life or something? - I clicked on the daily photo.

The pic, in reference to Memorial Day showed the tombstone of Jon's father. Like I really needed a picture of a beloved father's final resting place, right then... But the point of my mentioning this is that on close examination of the pic, I noticed that the heading for the spouse did not yet have a listing for the dates of the mother.

So the mother is still alive - or buried elsewhere...

It would be weird to go and visit your husband's plot and sit there and know that you'll be spending many years rotting a few feet below where you now sit/stand. I don't know that I would go to a cemetery to visit a loved one that has passed on.

I tend to think that all points are equidistant to heaven. It's not like the person has spent time in the cemetery, nothing of their essence is in the tombstone. Unless they carved it themselves, and then really how much essence can soak into granite?

I think I would prefer to not know exactly where I'll be buried or scattered or stored.

At this point, I think it would be foolish to allow one's body to be destroyed. Pop me directly into cryogenic freeze, thank you. Even if it takes 200 years to cure whatever my cause of death was, hey I'll be a patient popsicle. Of course, how would the expensive procedure be paid for is a mystery...

Perhaps I could enter some sort of indentured servitude once revived, and work off my debt for five years or ten years or whatever. Any skills I might have would obviously be hopelessly outdated, so I'd probably be stuck doing manual labor.

But wouldn't they have robots for all the manual labor by then? Well something equally banal then. Sex slave or some such. But wouldn't they have sex robots by then?

I could write a book about this exciting 21st Century era.
...But wouldn't they have robots for book-writing by...

Maybe I could go on a talk show circuit, and tell the viewers all about the 21st Century. Cause you know, all those other recently thawed people wouldn't have ruined that gig yet... Hmn.

Or they could put all us recently thawed people on a reality show, and mix us up with modern day people of the 24th Century and hoo boy the laughs would be aplenty as we were confounded by the tri-sexuals and Britney clones.

'And what Litany doesn't know is that Dana isn't just a tri-sexual, it's a tri-sexual robot!'

Yowza, that's some good music television.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Fck Fck F*ck

2005-06-01T08:42:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 107

My Dad is in the hospital right now, after passing out, hitting his head on the coffee table, and passing into a Ketoacidotic Coma. Thank goodness that Joann was with him at the time. I've said some snarky things about Joann, and I hereby take them all back.

It turns out that Dad has 'Type 1 Diabetes' of all things, and this incident was a loudspeaker announcement of its arrival. "Attention! You are doomed to an early death due to wounds that won't heal. Oh yeah, and blindness, can't forget the blindness." Well f*ck.

And here I am in the middle of f*cking nowhere and I can't help, and Dad had been talking about meeting up with us in Fairbanks for like a weekend, and I was really looking forward to seeing him and now I don't know if that's going to happen and it's selfish of me but I really wanted to see him and hug him and tell him I'm sorry for the stupid sh*t I've done and this is pissing me off.

Diabetes kind of runs in the family, Dad's sister and his grandmother had it too I think. So yes, I'll probably wake up one day with the cursed condition as well, that's something exciting to look forward to.

Type 1 Diabetes means that the pancreas no longer makes insulin. So you have to get shots every day, whether you give them to yourself, or someone else gives them to you, or you have some kind of gizmo installed in your body.

And with daily shots, the odds go way up that one day the person giving you the shots will be distracted and there will be an air bubble in the syringe and then you have a bubble in your bloodstream and then you die from an aneurysm or some sh*t. And if the shot-giver is Dad, the chances go way up that distraction is a factor. Ugh!

I'd say go with the gizmo, but what if you roll over in your sleep and hit the 'dispense' button and you just lay there pressing on it and you end up ODing and killing yourself, all because you like to sleep on your right side?

I'm sure they have safeties built into the gizmo to avoid that, and Dad hasn't mentioned getting one or anything, I was too busy crying on the phone with him to really ask too many lucid questions. I KNEW something bad was going to happen when I was away. I knew he was going to get hit by a bus or drown while he was out kayaking or something.

And I don't pray all that often, but I've been praying a lot for Dad while I've been on this trip, and it's almost like a twisted wish from a mischievous jinn - "Aaaa - you didn't call 'No Diabetes!' during your wish, Ha Ha!" So I forgot to pray for protection against internal diseases and organ failure, excuse me.

The impact to his head left a good sized scratch which bled all over, and poor Joann was very composed and called 911 before she freaked out, and kudos to her for that. And thanks to the paramedics and doctors and nurses who deftly treated and diagnosed My Dear Daddy.

Obviously, millions of people every year come down with Diabetes, and they live full and happy lives and all that crap. But no one can tell me that it's not going to shorten his lifespan. And as I look online for complications due to Diabetes, it's f*cking scary, all the related disorders there are.

I mean, he could be dead before I see him again. It's not like I could have protected him if I'd stayed in LA. I can help him avoid a bus, but what could I have done about this? Helped him avoid junk food? Would that have mattered? Or just delayed it? This feels like punishment for leaving him all alone.

And yet, would he have felt free enough to get serious with another woman if I was in town, clinging to his ankles and drinking all his milk and coming over twice a week to do laundry?

I'm glad Dad met Joann and I'm glad she was with him and is with him now, as he's in the hospital. My brother is there too and it kills me that I can't be there. I guess this will be a test for Joann, if she weathers this then I'll have to like her.

Get Well Dad. I miss you, Goofus.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Happy Birthday Jake!!

2005-05-31T08:33:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 106

And I thought Anneli was the only weird pill-taker. Shows what I know. Oh, and annoying food habits, don't get me started.

Today is Jake's birthday! He's 24 now, and well on his way to being Over The Hill. He reports that he doesn't feel any older, and that every birthday after the 21st is just a cruel joke.

I have no way to confirm this personally, I'll let you know in a couple of years. There aren't really any benefits to growing older that I can see - though don't you need to be 25 to rent a car? Hmn.

And maybe people take you more seriously. A 20 year old with a dream probably seems ever so twee, where a 30 year old has drive and motivation? Yes, No, I dunno.

We're bad friends - we don't really have any gifts to give or cakes to bake. We really did not plan ahead for celebrations, that's something to consider before we leave Fairbanks. Calculate who's birthday is when and plan for a little cake or stale Twinkie or some such. And some cute little giftee items.

In lieu of cakes and beer and suchlike, we sang to him and cheered and have excluded him from chore rotation for a week. So he doesn't have to cook or carry the damn-ned generator or etc.

Of all the holidays there are, I think birthdays are the best. They celebrate one person, and you can devote proper attention to them. Christmas is such a vague commercial thang. I think a really good birthday present is something thoughtful that furthers a hobby or interest that a person has.

This is a question I should have asked the entomologists we met a while back - why oh why are bugs so attracted to a person's eyes? I'm sure it has nothing to do with people, they're attracted to eyes, be they caribou or human. Adrian suggested that it's the salt in the eye-juices. Mebbe. Anybody know?

To deter the bugs, I've taken to wearing my sunglasses even when I don't need to, which has led to a few spills (aka falling on my ass) because there are times I can't quite see where I'm placing my feet. Maybe I should go back to the ski-goggles of the snowy days. They get really stuffy though, and I get sweaty and irritated.

Mebbe the bugs could be lessened by having a baseball cap with a sticky fly-papery bill. Then when I see A SWARM coming to devour my sultry salty eye juices, I can just bob my head in a 'you die now' nod, and the little pests would get trapped on the bill.

Hmn. But then what do you do with your bug-infested hat at the end of the day? I guess the sticky bill layer could be disposable (peel off with the little plastic tweezers - included in a little pocket) or the whole hat could be like a paper throw-away thing. The latter method is wasteful though.

I've come to notice that every equipment-based decision I make lately takes into account the idea that I will be carrying any and all items both before and after its use, at least until we reach a civilized disposal site. It really plays a role in how we're choosing our gear. "Yeah it's great, but who wants to carry it?" is now a big factor.

I hope to apply this outlook to my life, and the emotional baggage I'll be collecting from each decision. Am I willing to carry it, during and after the moment has passed? There's no sanctioned garbage pail for bad decisions and their repercussions.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Madame Seamstress And The OCD Itch

2005-05-30T08:35:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 105

Location - 65°26’06N by 148°14’43W

Eric - Thanks for sharing your story! Let the new round of ribbing begin! I have to wonder what the Turks do to their foxhole partners who have erotic dreams...

Rest Day, Yay! It’s high time that we got our scrub on, and we used a freshly melted little rivulet of water, about as forceful as your average garden hose on high, running down the hillside to scrub our stinky duds. Whee!

At first, we toyed with the idea of a quick splash in the water to rinse ourselves as well, but anyone who’s ever washed their clothes in freshly melted glacier water will tell you, it’s freaking cold.

And any thought of immersing your naked body in this liquid nitrogen vanishes in the first two seconds of washing, as your hands go immediately numb. So we gathered water, let it warm up, and got our sponge-bath on.

We even gave the tents a rinse, and they needed it. I don’t think they’d really been cleaned since we started using them a few weeks ago. I’m trying to recall and I can’t - when we went from sheltering to tenting. Good thing I have a blog for all that, and I can look it up. But I don’t feel like turning on the laptop right now.

So we have clean - if stiff - clothes to wear once again. Someday I will walk into a Wal-Mart and buy a brand new sweatshirt, soft and comfy, and it will have no stains or holes or poorly-sewn patches. I have to say this, The Pilgrimage has really given me a lot of time to practice my sewing.

I look at the repairs I made early on, and the new Madam Seamstress within me wants to tear out those old stitches and redo them. I get this nearly OCD itch about it, and there are some garments that I avoid wearing, or avoid looking at, because the repair is so jagged and bass ackwards.

Speaking of OCD Gaze Avertion, (Hey did I just coin a new phrase? Doubtful) whenever Anneli takes pills, I have to look away. She’ll take a swig of water, then pick up the pills while holding her head at this weird angle - so she can open her mouth and not lose any water, then carefully drop the pills into her mouth, and then take a bunch of big gulps of water to wash it all down. This makes no sense to me, and though I have tried to teach her the proper way to take pills, she will not listen.

I look away because if I don’t, I’ll want to throttle her or lecture her, and either approach would not endear me to my companion.

Why won’t she listen, Lord? Why?

If you’re wondering which is the proper method for taking pills, here it is: Step 1, pop the pills in your mouth. Step 2, drink some water to wash them down. Actually, for years when I was a kid I took pills sans water. I’d just work up a little spit and send the pill on its way. I’d like to see Anneli do that sometime, or even see her take a pill with less than a liter of water, Hah that’ll be the day.

What pills was I taking as a kid? Actually, I had ADD (probably still have, cause I doubt the biochemistry of my brain has changed much) and took Ritalin for years. I don’t know that it was a good thing in the end, (there’s a lot of studies that argue back and forth) but I was able to keep my butt in the seat and listen to the teacher.

Do you guys have any weird pill-taking mannerisms?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Rough And Reassuring

2005-05-29T09:09:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 104

Church is now my tent-mate, ever since we were put together on the same Watch group. And somehow, for some reason, Church's digestive system is in the midst of an industrial methane production phase. That's right, horriffic, odious and hellish fumes have been coming out of this otherwise sweet young thing.

It's not like her diet has changed recently. Unless she's creeping out in the night to dine on squirrels and bunnies. Or caribou. Small ones, just to curb those midnight cravings.

There's no sound, no warning, no claxon, no air-raid siren wail to prepare her victims. I swear it must seep out of her pores or spontaneously manifest. One moment all is well, and the next minute, I'm highly tempted to upchuck all over my pillow.

What? No, Of course I'm not talking about you, Stinky. I'm not about to tell the world about your gassy issues. What kind of a blabbering bitch do you take me for?

Ok my steamy dreams (cause you know, it's so sexy to talk about heavenly images of subconscious sex right after going on and on about ass gas)

Warning - just skip the rest of today's post if you are troubled by anything risque...

It's more weird than wild, really...Ok so in my dream I'm in this giant tent, like the size of those you might have a church revival meeting in. Only this tent is made of silk and velvet and has all those beautiful deep colors you find in the Middle Eastern genre.

And the tent is empty except for a narrow cushioned table. The cushion is built into the table, almost like the exam table at a doctor's office. It is black leather and very warm to the touch.

Did I mention that I'm completely naked in this dream? Yeah.

So I'm checking out the table, and there's a blast of air and I look to the tent flap and there's a man standing there flanked by two women. Everyone is nude.

No one but me has a face. This seems pretty typical of my dreams.

The guy and two girls walk up to me, and without a word they lay me down on the table. Only after I lie down do I notice that there are numerous straps and attachments for binding a person's arms and legs. For some reason, this does not trouble me. The leather is like warm butter against my skin, and I relax into its softness.

They take my hands and bind them with a single strap, arms bent at the elbows - I can scratch my shoulders with my thumbs, and that's the limit of my movement. Pinning my arms in this position squooshes my boobs together, and it looks like I have more than my meager rack, cool!

The strap is rough and reassuring and the anticipation begins to build.

My legs are bound next. And then my faceless captors make sweet, long, lingering pleasure to me with various impressive implements (I'd love to go into explicit detail, but I'm not the one typing this) and the interesting thing is, all of the sex toys are not sex toys.

They're made of fruit. Everything is made of fruit. After a time, I realize that the three people around me are also made of fruit. Sticky sweet fruit juices are everywhere, and in the end, I devour the people and all their fruit.

At the end of the dream, I'm still strapped to the table, wondering how I'm going to get free. And that's it.

I think the meaning of the dream is pretty clear. I need to get to a produce market very soon or I will lose my mind. Oh, and some sex would be very nice too.

Litany Webb, singing off

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Duck Duck Duck - - Goose!

2005-05-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 103

Sharon - I'm sorry to hear that you guys knew the boy who drowned. I hope that the other kids take note of this sad incident and take more care. It usually takes a horrible accident for people to change their foolish ways.

We got a late start today, my fault. I had a claustrophobic attack and could not bear to don my backpack. How embarrassing. Yes - I do sadly, occasionally have such issues, though I have tried to keep quiet about it.

Church blames fatigue and low blood sugar as a trigger, and gave me a dose of honey from her stash. I think she's planning to write a paper on all of our psychosis. I'll bet she has calculated down to the third decimal place which one of us will go apesh*t first.

Is it me? It could be me. I'll bet it's me. I don't think it's me. It could be any of us, it's always the quiet ones and there's no telling what's going to set someone off. It took me like an hour to chill out and be able to wear my crushing 3000 pounds of equipment without scratching my own eyes out with my feet.

Early on today, our lives threatened to turn into a Gilligan's Island episode. After about an hour of morning hiking, we came across a thick white cable coming out of the ground.

We came across this underground cable that had been uncovered by Spring runoff. Jake found it first, he was out ahead of us, and by the time we reached him, he had started digging more of it up and was planning to bust into the outer casing.

I mentioned Gilligan's Island cause that was one of the episodes - this undersea phone cable washes up in the lagoon and they make a phone out of coconuts (like you do) and spend the rest of the episode trying to convice random people across the planet that they are marooned on an Uncharted Desert Isle.

So we stopped Jake, with some not inconsiderable effort. That boy really wanted to hack into whatever this cable was and reach out and touch someone. It could have been anything, there was no way to tell what was inside. Not to mention it's illegal.

We took a reading today of 68 degrees, whoo hoo! We also got rained on and were entertained by a thunderstorm. It's thrilling and scary to see the snaking, bluefire-tongues darting to the ground.

You can see the storms coming for a long distance. When they're really far away, the lightning doesn't even look like bolts, just flashes. Like heat lightning, but you know it isn't.

It's freaky to watch it roll overhead, but I try to be glad that I'm not the tallest one in the group.

It's kind of like the old story where the two guys are being chased by a bear - the first guys says "I don't have to be faster than the bear, I just have to be faster than you!" So as long as tall people like Kwame and Adrian are around, they should get struck first.

Did I mention the totally hot dream I had last night? I don't know if you guys are down with erotica...

Litany Webb, signing off

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Ha Ha! I Mauled Your Leg!

2005-05-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 102

Good Grief! I'm so glad we keep Watch at night now, and scared that we didn't start sooner. Get a load of this.

In case the link gets broken, here's a quote from the Juneau Empire, by Mary Pemberton, an Associated Press Writer: "ANCHORAGE, Alaska — A hiker was injured by a grizzly bear that charged through heavy brush and grabbed the woman by her right ankle, dragging her off a large rock before her husband scared it off."

She was just hiking along, minding her own business, and GRAB! Very creepy, especially after our own recent encounter with BFGB. We've been so damned lucky that no one has been seriously hurt. Yet.

Maybe this bear was waiting for one of his friend bears to come around the corner. He was gonna trip his friend and they'd have a good beary chuckle, "Ha Ha Gotcha! I mauled your leg!"

But instead, it was this random human who had no business being in his back yard. He's like "Holy Sh*t that's not Fred!" and before he can recoil in surprise, the hubby is all up in his grill.

I remember, not too many years ago, I was fifteen I think, I was chasing one of my guy friends around his apartment complex with a paintball gun and I almost took out this little old lady. She was eighty if she was a day, and I fired at her, I squeezed off two shots before I realized she wasn't my friend. I missed thank goodness, I could have killed her. But I tell ya, I've never heard such language coming out of such a cute little lady - before or since.

And in other dangerous Ackian news, there's the story of an 18 year old guy from Barrow who drove his snowmobile too far onto thin ice and drowned. How sad, truly. This is a very dangerous place to be.

Every time I think I have a calm bead on this place, that I can handle what is gonna get thrown at me, death and disaster in the news helps remind me that at any moment any of us could die.

Um, on a lighter note, my Dad and his girl Joann have decided to go steady. How mushy is that? Apparently there's like promise rings involved and everything. I didn't know the elder peeps were into the cutesy gestures. I guess love is silly, enjoy life while you can, cause there's grizzlies of one sort or another waiting for all of us behind the next rock.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Unwilling Blood Donor Dinner

2005-05-26T08:27:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 101

Almost sounds like a class, doesn't it?

"I'm Professor Webb, you can call me Litany. I'll be lecturing today on how best to pee in the Ackian Outback while minimizing the bug bites received on your tender backside. This will be on the test."

As Adrian was eating his slop this evening, a spoon broke in his mouth. The little bowl-like portion broke off from the stick-like segment. And this aint no plastic spoon neither. I've never seen a metal spoon break before. He didn't pierce himself with the jagged remnants or anything, no injury. Funky though. That spoon was like "I'm so done with you people." and snap! it went to tableware heaven.

Glad you guys liked the poem. It's not so much about any subject as it is about word-play. Which is too bad, cause that's like a video game with glorious graphics and crummy gameplay. Who needs that? Shouldn't writing be about the meaning... Without depth of meaning and feeling, who cares how well the words get along?

Kato - Well of course I honored your request! I try to respond to all of you kind folks in kind.

A few days ago, I mentioned printing up a book of these blog entries once we reach Fairbanks. I was brainstorming for taglines on the cover, you know, like under the author's name - it usually mentions your recent bestseller. What do you guys think? Feel free to suggest your own, you guys are a lot smarter and funnier than yours truly:

Litany Webb -

- Haiti doesn't want her and Castro's afraid she'll take over.

- Now with great lymon taste

- Author of numerous parking pass forgeries

- Harvard doesn't want her and MENSA is afraid she'll take over

- Author of numerous twisted sexual fantasies

- Now with a third less calories

- The only girl who didn't cheat on her SAT

- With twice the ply's of the leading brand

- She bribed the law and the law run

- Now protected by the 5th Amendment

- Now with fresh lemon scent

I think there's like one good one in there, and most of them stink. Of course, I am most own worst critic.

Wait wait, I never told you how to minimize bug bites on one's ass: Be quick about it. That's all I can say. Unless you're willing to douse your derriere in DEET, which I am not, just be sure you are ready to go before you bare your butt. None of this "I could maybe go in fifteen minutes, I'll squat here and read a four-month-old magazine and deliberate." No.

Also, hitching your underpants to the side rather than actually Baring All will help save your precious cheeks from becoming unwilling blood-donor dinner.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Got Hazmat?

2005-05-25T08:39:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 100

Wow, 100 days and no fatalities. I'm surprised. And pleased.

All right, if there are any knowledgeable military types reading this, can you give me a reason why three crew-cut clean-shaven truck drivers wearing BDU’s were driving three matching, cute Albertsons TANKER TRUCKS with ‘Jones Dairy’ and ‘Got Milk?’ on the sides?

I mean, I’m pretty gullible when it comes to believing government propaganda, but these were some rather Semper Fi milkmen. I offered up a silent prayer as they passed, hoping that they would not hit a caribou and jackknife, spilling their almost certainly toxic cargo into the heart of beautiful Ack.

Kato - Actually asking for me to post my poem, hmn. I thought you guys were probably bored of my poetry! You probably are, and Kato is just being nice… Not that I mind, of course. This one is the only good piece of the three I wrote the other day:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Denial………………………………........................By Litany Webb

oh doubtful debtor
my apostle of beauty
gleaning small graces
gently tracing quiet glory with tongue's tender tip
mouthing whet words
liquid syllables
mummed into memory
yielding salvation unto the self only
daring the weeping edge of the world
not to cry
refusing it reason to

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know, I really expected that I would do more writing on this voyage than I have. I'm just so wrung out by the end of the day. It's hard to summon the motivation to move, once I lie down.

I'm not proud to admit this, but there have been days when I seriously considered just wetting myself rather than make the effort to get up. I never did, but I came close once. Of course, that was like a month ago, in the era of winds at 35 below zero, so who could blame me for considering that? At least it would be warm. Briefly.

No critters to report today. Wait - we did see some caribou off in the far distance, but no close encounters. That's fine with me. I can use a good night's sleep right about now.

Night Night.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Flashlight Training Inc. - Obedience and Security

2005-05-24T08:47:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 99

Ok so Jake and Gabe woke us up at about 2AM last night, not all that long after we’d gone to sleep. There was something in the bushes, and it wasn’t small.

We got Kwame up and handed the bow off to him, since he’s the best shot. Jake equipped the slingshot - one of those snazzy ones that braces on your forearm.

And then we spent the next three hours jumping and cringing at every sound. The something in the bushes was circling our camp, disturbing the brush.

We trained our flashlights into the blackness - even with the moon, it gets pretty damned dark - and nothing. We’d see the brush jitter a bit as the Something went by, but we never did catch a glimpse.

It could have been a bunny or a badger or something, but of course we imagined the worst possible critters, not just wolves or bears, but scary crazy stuff like Arctic Kamikaze Porcupines - the kind that dash into camp and explode in a flying fury of pines, leaving us punctured and dead, good eating!

After about three hours of thrilling 'jumping at every sound and seeing nothing' adventure, most of the group went to bed. By this time, it was Church and Litany’s turn on Watch, and you can bet there was no sleeping for us.

I wanted to ask her about the plethora of porn cookie crumbs she’d left on my laptop, but I refrained. We talked instead about the vet clinic where Church spent much time learning how to scoop out reproductive organs. Eeew!

Eric - Wow, thanks for the Turkish Army tidbit, it's very cool to get the info directly from someone with experience! You can bet I passed this info on to Church and Adrian. At this point, they're still sheepish about the whole thing, (falling asleep on Watch) but sick of hearing about it. You can bet they'll be hearing about it for months to come.

Heather - You pronounce Caeled as "Kay-led", yeah you got it pretty close. Hee hee! Eric is welcome to share his war stories with us anytime! :o)

We only get about four hours of ‘night’ now. Sunset is at about 11:45PM, Sunrise is about 4AM. So Church and I started our two hour watch at about 5AM, after sunrise, which really messes with your sleeping cycle.

When we woke up Gabe and Kwame for their turn on Watch, they were not feelin it, since they’d really just got back to sleep. And then Church and I laid down, but ended up just talking for the next couple of hours.

The long long long hours of sun really messes with your sense of time. Almost daily, I’ll try to think back - and I often have to ask someone ‘Did this happen today, or was that yesterday?‘

In the end, we were getting goofy silly sleepy, and we - and I’m including Kwame and Gabe, who chimed in with fabulous falsetto’s - ended our day with a rousing rendition of 'Sunrise, Sunset'.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Sleeping With The Enmity

2005-05-23T08:24:00.000-07:00

Days Waking - 98

Location - 65°52’59N by 149°43’11W

It’s a rest day of sorts, even though we moved camp a mile or two. The overnight watch was mostly uneventful but we wanted to put some more space between us and the BFGB of yesterday.

It’s hard to guess in this rugged terrain just where his home range ends. We’ve been looking at trees for territorial markings, but what layman can tell where one BFGB’s home ranging area ends and another’s begins?

You’ll notice I said the night was ‘mostly uneventful’. When Caeled and I got up for our watch duty at 4AM, we found team Adrian and Church SLEEPING ON DUTY.

Now, when Caeled and I are on watch, our biggest problem is keeping quiet so we don’t wake everyone up. I’ve rarely felt the urge to pass out and when I do, the idea that I have people’s lives in my hands helps to keep me awake, if not completely alert.

So we were yelling at them, visions of BFGB dancing in our heads. Everybody woke up, and there commenced a big angry shouting match, and a lot of dirty laundry was aired, and much uncomfortable back-biting took place. Not a good place to be just then.

So, two guesses who gets to do the cooking duty for the next couple of weeks. That’s right, it’s those sleeping bastards. When I start to think about all the scary predators that are out there, and the idea that the folks supposedly keeping watch might be sleeping, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep comfortably again for quite a while.

Jake told us about some story he heard where if soldiers are sleeping on duty, they are awakened by getting pee'd on. And then they get beat up. That about fits the angry feeling we were all experiencing just then, I'd say.

We’ve broken these two sleepers into different watch groups. Church is now with me, and Adrian is now is Caeled. Although as quiet as Church can be, I might have trouble keeping awake too.

Today was a decent day. I wanted to walk off from camp a bit and do some writing, but the image of the bloody bear was still too fresh in my memory. So I stayed within earshot of camp but out of sight, within view of a very pretty little lake, and wrote three poems!

It was relaxing, even if the bugs did get on my damn nerves. One of the poems is pretty decent, the other two are crap and I’ll probably trash them. It was good to write them, sometimes you just need to get those words out of your head so they’ll leave you alone.

I’m really looking forward to getting into Fairbanks. We’ll likely be there a few weeks while we put together some funds. That will be interesting, interacting with humans on a daily basis once again.

Will we love it or hate it? Time will tell.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Maulrats

2005-05-22T08:23:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 97

We only got about four miles of hiking accomplished today. It was a pretty uncomfortable experience, it was a day of waiting. And if you know me, you know I hate waiting. Ask someone who knows me, ask "What does Litany hate?" and they'll reply:

"Litany hates waiting."

My pet peeves also include cat fur in my underpants.

So we got up, ate breakfast, packed and stowed all our crap, and got underway. After about two and a half hours of hiking, we had to make use of the road (something we avoid during most of the day) because the way became very steep.

When the way through the foothills gets narrow or especially steep, the only way is the roadway. We spread out and take steps for safe road travel. So we started walking the road.

We came around a blind curve to see a giant slab of roadkill. It was a caribou, and it must have been hit by a truck, but it looked like it had exploded from the inside. Caribou guts were all over the place, and the carcass was nearly split in two but not quite.

It would have been better if the dead beast had been ripped in two. It looked to be held together by shredded, sad fragments and it was awful to look upon.

But simply finding a dead caribou would not have slowed us down for long. It’s sad, but it’s no cause for loss of hours. What did slow us down was the Big F*cking Grizzly Bear.

BFGB was enjoying the free lunch of caribou. It was a real life double-take situation. We come traipsing around the corner, unsuspecting, and pow, blood and goo.

I took in the gory scene in a left-to-right pan and scan view punctuated by a “Woah” moment worthy of Keanu himself. And just as my gaze was cringe-squinting at the sight of the bloody chunks, I saw the bear, big and huge and brown and ginormous and his face and paws were bloody and he was eagerly tearing into the carcass like those guys you see at the Chinese Buffets, those guys who come just for the crab legs. Those guys that will wait until a new crab legs steam tray is delivered, and then they mound their empty plates until they spill onto the floor or the steam tray is empty.

Actually we couldn’t tell if the bear was a big brown bear or a grizzly, but we weren’t about to come close enough to gather a stool sample for analysis.

So we backed the hell up, doubletime, like some badass bandit army was on our tails, and got the hell out of his way. We moved back north a good couple of hundred yards, and kept an eye on the bear with the binoculars.

He was taking his sweet time with the carcass. He worried it and played with it and dragged it around for most of the day. He dragged it to the side of the road, into the fringe of the brush, and started digging, possibly to hide his meat for tomorrow. But he gave up after a few minutes and went back to snacking.

This went on all day. I don’t know that the bear ever really noticed us. If he did, he gave no sign. We got the heck out of his area pretty quickly, so he really had no reason to be annoyed with us. Not that a giant emm effer needs a reason.

We waited a total of five hours, and eventually the bear dragged a good sized chunk of meat away with him into the unknown. At that point, none of us felt much like hiking. After a couple of more miles, we found a good spot to camp and took it.

So yeah, it was a fun day of blood, gore and waiting to be mauled by a grizzly in the night. Needless to say, we’ll be extra alert on watch tonight. And he probably wouldn’t even do us the honor of eating us. Just kill us all and leave our mauled carcasses for the birds and vermin. Fun!

Litany Webb, signing off

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From Her Head Down To Her Toenails

2005-05-21T08:42:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 96

As I ramble daily, there's always a couple of worries that nag me - first, that I will repeat myself - which I've mentioned before, and second - that I'll accidentally steal from someone else.

I was cheerfully reading some old Dooce archives last night, and I came across one of her pregnancy blogs where she used the phrase "you're not ready for this belly." and I was like holy sh*t, I said that like a week ago.

And then I spent much too long racking my brains, trying to think back, whether I'd read it on Dooce before, or if we came up with it separately. I mean, it's not a phrase of inspired genius or anything, so either way is possible. Transpermia or Evolution? Scanning...

I'm a rather compulsive person, and so I start checking my laptop, sieving through my cookies and internet history, to try to determine if I viewed page X before date Y. Yes, I'm a psycho, because who cares who said a silly phrase first? I care, because I have nothing but time to fret and do deep searches of my cookies. I mean, she said it first, she said it a long time ago. But did I write it before I read it on her site?

And during my search, I came across all these cookies for porn sites. Wha? Sixteen in all, with multiple hits for several of them. Who had the time and the privacy to enjoy porn on my laptop? And why wasn't it me?

Now, I enjoy pornography, but I'm really more about text - erotica that is, than streaming video of heaving bodies. But these sites were the latter to my former. Hard. Kinky sh*t. The Zoroaster Granite of Porn. And that's lower than Vishnu Schist, mah friends.

(Yes, I'm a geology geek, see - you learn something new every day).

So being my compulsive self, I try to think back to who's been using my laptop. Just me, and occasionally whoever my shelter or tent mate was. Since I don't have the memory for anything that's actually useful - I can remember silly geology terminology, but not whether I took my pain pills or stuffed them into a pocket, or who was my tent-mate X days ago.

I cross reference the porn cookies with my shelter mate for the correct period, and it was Church!! Holy cow, Church is into the hardcore porn. I'm so surprised. She doesn't seem the sort. She's so reserved and proper and will only discuss sex in the most clinical terms.

Anneli and I have been known to share naughty stories of wanton debauchery, and Church just listens, a frown of mild distaste on her face. Why didn't she join in?

I never figured out if I stole the 'belly' phrase from Dooce. I'm willing to grant that I might have. Which makes me even more worried about stealing from other people. But I really don't have the time for worrying about what goes into the blog. I mean, it's so easy to absorb what we hear and read and add it to our own vocabulary.

As we're supposed to do, we're busy little learning creatures after all.

Now I get to absorb the idea that my quiet, contemplative, mild-mannered Church is Hardcore, Yo. I'm not aghast or appalled or anything. I just wish she would have joined in on the fun, down and dirty discussions. I'm not going to ask her about it, but it's an interesting window into her interests.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Mom, Ever Feel Less Than French?

2005-05-20T08:23:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 95

Kwame is doing well, no further issues so far. We're keeping an eye on him. We're trying to be surreptitious about it, but he's like "Hey stop staring at me!" and I'd say the same if I were him.

It's been raining on and off over the last couple of days. The scattered showers variety, which is beautiful. We can look to the south, to the lower elevations, and see for a long way - the columns of rain are misty and mysterious.

The rain is helping to melt any snow that's remaining. It's a lot more common now to see a rare patch of snow, where a few weeks ago it was a rare patch of green or brown. The ground is getting a lot more slick. Snow had a pretty consistent texture, and the snowshoes helped. Soddy ground is randomly slickery, and I'm falling on my butt like three times a day now. Yes, I am the most clumsy, with Caeled a close second.

One moment, you're walking along just fine and then you're on your back, you've hit your head on your pack, and you're looking at the sky in surprise. I've begun arranging the items in my pack with the pre-conception that I'll soon be beating my head against it. Hmn, I'll put this here and that there, to cushion my innocent skull from its upcoming bashing.

The rain also rinses away our DEET bug protection, so we avoid using it on rainy days, to help conserve it. In some ways, I miss the deathly cold. It's a lot easier to stay warm than it is to stay dry. It's all about wondrous wool, which keeps you warm despite the wetness. You smell like a dank sheep, but at least you won't die of hypothermia.

Hah, dank sheep, we should smell so good. I'd go on to detail our ripe odors, but I've already ranted on that subject quite enough.

Golden Hour has turned into Golden Three Hours, and we now spend a lot more time on the road, from like 6pm-9pm. We try to get ten miles a day under our belts - er - boots, and actually walking on a real road helps, even if it is gravel.

We try to be very careful, especially around tight turns in the foothills, where visibility might be low and a truck might come around a bend and plow into us. We avoid such situations when at all possible, but anyone who's driven in the mountains knows that sometimes there's no shoulder.

When such instances arise, we spread out and use our battery powered blinky-flashy red lights. We equip the ice-crossing ropes to maintain a good distance apart. The ropes would be especially handy if someone had to jump the guardrail to avoid, you know, being crushed to death. This way it's a lot more likely we'll be spotted - as a large group, rather than a tightly compact, less visible party.

Despite our efforts, we've had a few peeved truckers give us a rude blast on the horn. We resist the urge to pirouette as a choreographed unit and offer them a choice rude gesture in response. After all, like with Mr. Toothy, we're on their turf, we have no business being in their way, and Ack is a fairly dangerous place for a walkabout. Why am I doing this again?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Evert Your Eyes!

2005-05-19T08:41:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 94

Location - 66°08'21N by 150°12'17W
(I remembered, aren't you proud?)

Kwame had an episode this morning. And I don't mean a television episode. Unless we're talking about a PSA. Actually, this was more like an afterschool special.

Several of us were awakened by the bone-chilling, god-awful sound of urgent retching.

Allow me to be very clear - this wasn't a mouthful of bork politely returning to sender, oh no. This was the sound of one's small intestine turning itself inside out inside his mouth. When sharks do it, it's called 'everting'.

When humans do it, you call 911. Only, we have no 911 to call.

I've mentioned the rationing that we do on this trip. Rationing means that no matter how much you want just one more bowl of slop, you should do your best to refrain. Any number of random incidents could delay us, and suddenly we're a week behind. The food you don't glut yourself with today could save your life next week.

We all piss and moan about the rationing, but we're pretty careful and nothing really gets wasted. If I'm done with my slop, "Hey someone want the rest of my gruel?" someone - usually Caeled or Gabe - will scarf what's left in my bowl.

I call it slop because it usually is. It's some kind of breakfast porridge, or it's some kind of pasta mix, or some kind of rice mix, but there's always the gooey sauce factor, be it peaches and cream oatmeal, faux alfredro or marinara.

Kwame was up early, and making breakfast for us all, when he snapped. He started going to town on the food, and within about three minutes, consumed the breakfast slop meant for eight people.

Jake witnessed part of it - he came out of his tent, said good morning to Kwame, who was stirring the slop. Jake stepped a few yards away for a scratch-n-pee, and when he turned back all the food was gone.

Jake said Kwame had this bloated, surprised, horrified look on his face as he told him "All of it. I just ate all of it." and then mere seconds later, the aforementioned evertion.

The sound was pretty intense. It didn't sound like a human. It was like some giant momma creature was delivering nine pounds of half-digested tummy chum for her young. Ugh - just thinking about it brings that bile taste into the back of my throat.

We all came busting out of our tents to see what the hell was going on, to see Kwame kneeling in a frighteningly deep puddle of regurgitated breakfast. If that's not enough to turn me away from slop for a few days, nothing will.

Gabe got Kwame cleaned up - they're tentmates. Then Adrian and Church gave Kwame a good exam. Kwame seemed ok - and a thorough examination of the barf (Church has nerves of steel) didn't show any signs of blood or foreign matter - from ulcers or other digestive complaints.

While Gabe was cleaning Kwame up, Jake and I did an inventory of the packed food items. It would be scary to discover that Kwame had been going crazy in the night, devouring our chow. But everything seemed to be present and accounted for. We even found a pack of raisins that we thought had been eaten long ago - score!

So the mental medicine began. All of us sat in a circle and listened as Kwame, Church and Adrian discussed why this might have happened. Was this is an urge or impulse he'd felt before? Has he been binging and purging? Since we all eat together, this was pretty unlikely.

Kwame described it as a feeling that had been growing for a few weeks. Like those impulses or voices you hear in your head, but dismiss, knowing you'll never do it. He said he's dreamt about food all night for the past two nights in a row. He was really at a loss to explain it.

It was unsettling to see him so unnerved. Kwame is a pretty solid guy, and if I had to pick anyone who was to go hog wild and suck down everyone's breakfast, he'd be at the bottom of the list. Hell, I would have thought I'd go food crazy before Kwame. He seems ok now, and we'll keep an eye on him, and he won't be cooking alone any time soon. But he should be ok.

There's a possibility that this is a sign of Binge Eating Disorder - we'll have to wait and see. I think it was a one-time-weirdism brought on by a really long hiking trip. We talked about it for a good three hours.

It's possible that any of us might start giving in to those little voices in our heads. It's important that we share these urges, talk about them, so we can watch out for this kind of thing, and help one another. I mean, what if someone has the urge to just step in front of a speeding tanker truck? Or off a steep cliff? We have to share this stuff, as hard as it might be.

Here's one of mine: Anneli wears these hoop earrings sometimes and I get a strong urge for no reason to jab my finger into the loop and just rip them out of her ear, leaving her screaming and bloody.

Do you guys have any strange impulses to share?

Litany Webb, signing off

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Regarding Fruit / Tree Proximity

2005-05-18T08:48:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 93

We had a random encounter today with Tony Glenn and Marsha Butler, entomologists studying the effects of roadways on insect activity. They're comparing insect types and density at specific locales along this part of the Dalton Highway.

Interestingly, Tony and Marsha are not employed by a university - instead they're privately funded by one of those foundations you hear about when you watch PBS. They were strangely mysterious about which one - we could not figure out why...

Tony and Marsha are placing collection lures at regular intervals along the road, as well as fifty and a hundred meters away from the road. They track the GPS of each lure, which is actually a lure, a collection container, and sensors that tabulate temperature, humidity, elevation, and even light levels.

Due to the slopes built in to roads - high in the middle and lower at the edges - for drainage, puddles can collect along roadsides, which of course is a factor in breeding cycles. But as marshy as a lot of Ack is, it's difficult to determine the impact of roads.

Also, it seems that many insects home in on their prey by our exaust gases, like CO2, and cars and trucks emit similar gases. And as you're relaxing at a rest stop or a photo opportunity, bugs can hitch a ride on your vehicle and so be spread hundreds of miles. We only have to think back to the Spruce Bark Beetle to realize how important it is to keep insects in their home area, and minimize spreading.

It's always fascinated me that no matter what subject you can think of, some scientist is studying it. Someone has made studying dung-beetles their life's work. Which is better, Coke or Pepsi. The effects of radiation coming from your computer screen.

Scientists are studying everything and anything. And now thanks to the internet they can all get together and pool their findings and discover how dried Pepsi spatters combined with computer screen radiation effects dung-beetles. The serandipitous way that data connects is beautiful to me. Like that science show Connections - brilliant stuff!

Tony and Marsha are cool peeps, for Bug-Lovers. I know that some kids have no fear and just love to play with grasshoppers and spiders and whatnot, but I never had any desire to touch any of those things. Bugs are my weakness. Snakes and rats I'm cool with, but bugs best steer clear of me or I will squish them!

Tony hails from Pennsylvania, and Marsha from Iowa. Midwestern folks are very nice and laid back. I guess if you regularly have snow dumped on you for 5 months of the year, you learn to deal with enforced cohabitation. They have very good people skills, especially for people who spend a lot of time pinning fifteen different species of roach to index cards as a hobby.

Marsha thoughtfully hooked us up with some handy DEET spritzers, and we have been enjoying a minimized bug experience since. Thanks Marsha you rock!

Enid - hey cool, thanks for the weird news about the British guy, interesting stuff.

Heather - Your hubby is Eric, neat! It's cool that he read my ramblings and saw fit to comment.

I'm continuously boggled as to how any of you clearly highly intelligent folks find my blog the slightest bit entertaining. I read your deep, witty, wise and worldly blogs and think "Whaaa?"

Oh I finally heard back from my Dad the other day - turns out he had an impromptu sexy sleep-over at Joann's house, and his cell phone battery died, and yadda yadda excuses excuses it's not cool to make me worry.

I'm torn between thinking it's high time Dad got a steady girl, and irked that I am not there to poke my nose in at every opportunity. I mean, I've been taking care of this man my whole life (he see's it differently of course) and now I've abandoned him to fend for himself.

I mean, he does not pay attention when he's walking through parking lots, especially when he's on his cell phone. I can't tell you how many times I've yanked him back just before he got himself hit by a car backing out. He's really distracted a lot of the time, and don't get him talking, whoo nelly can he go on and on and on...

Litany Webb, signing off

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iPod Glutes Implant Service Pack 2

2005-05-17T08:37:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 92

I was enjoying my iPod Shuffle the other day (If one of my fellow hikers and my Shuffle were tied to the railroad tracks, and a train was a-comin, and I could only save one, I think the paradox within my soul would cause a rift in the space-time continuum, swallowing all of the Milky Way and half of Andromeda).

Ahem.

I was enjoying my iPod Shuffle the other day, and as I considered its smallness, its lightness, its pretty freaking amazing functionality, I had to wonder how much smaller consumer electronics will get. Or should get. If my Shuffle were any smaller, I'd probably lose it.

You should see me now - when I misplace it for thirty seconds. 'Panic Attack' is too gentle a phrase. If a mother grizzly has a 'panic attack' when one of her babies cries out in pain and confusion as a raccoon swipes its nose with a well-deserved backhand, then I have a panic attack when I misplace my Shuffle.

So short of having an MP3 player built into my shoes, or something else I can't lose easily, I don't know about items getting much smaller. Or perhaps they could be installed inside my body, where I can't lose them, ever! And little earphones actually built-in to my earlobes or earrings or something. That way you could have the music on really soft, and no one could hear it but you.

It would be like having a soundtrack for your daily life!

Kato - hey cool, I didn't there was already an internet abbreviation for RITMLMAO, how cool is that? On one level it feels validating, and on another, not so much. Was it Archimedes that said something like 'there's nothing new under the sun?' Every time I think I've had an inspired idea, fifteen seconds of googling and it turns out someone thought that up ten years ago. Which isn't to say I didn't come up with it on my own, but it still can be deflating.

Cy - Holy cow, I didn't know I was stealing from a 'Fear and Loathing' scene! I've never seen it, but I've heard a lot of good things. Didn't the real life guy recently die or commit suicide or something? Also, I'm sorry that I didn't respond to your comment sooner. You missed out on the 'news cycle'. See, how it works is, I check the comments, jot notes, call Marina, ramble / dictate the post for the next day. So I checked before your comment, sorry.

Our current location is 66°17'28N by 150°25'00W. I'll try to remember and post our location more often!

Sharon - the bike riding guy sounds interesting, thanks for the heads up. I'll have to see if I can find any info about him. Pshhh, riding a bike, what a wimp. Hiking is for the serious types, the real, er - manly, uh women... Never mind. I hope bike riding dude has a partner, it would be dangerous to be out here all alone. May he be safe and have exciting adventures.

Robin - Swimsuit competition, ha ha! It's not that warm yet. I'm sorry but Caeled's funnyism cannot be shared in polite company. It was of the potty humor genre, and probably wouldn't seem that funny unless you were there...and it was three in the morning.

Heather - Well of course you've been missed! Your highbrow blog is great, but I like the chatty you too.

Eric - Oh yeah, I definitely break my blisters. I know some first aid opinions tell you not to, but as long as you're careful to avoid getting an infection, it's all good. Thanks for the advice on bears, we're careful to be noisy - seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it?

I know that on some days - hey like today - I don't give a lot of info about what went on during the hike that day, I ramble about daydreams I had about getting laid, and how I love my Shuffle - instead of detailing the walk.

If I did, you'd be bored out of your minds because most days are the same. Pee, Eat Slop, Break Camp, Pack, Trudge, Break, Trudge, Break, Trudge, Unpack, Setup Camp, Eat Slop, Sleep, repeat.

We ARE keeping track of the mundane but somewhat interesting details, even if I'm not blogging about them daily. Church and Jake and Gabe all keep notes and or diary entries, and once we get to Fairbanks, I plan to go back and edit my posts and add in more details, with daily data, more pics, the diary entries they'll allow me to share, and other minutia.

Maybe even put together a book I could get printed through CafePress or some-such, I don't know. I think CafePress can't do books with color pics, and black and white pics of Ack would be a bummer. I guess I could just do something at Kinko's. It would be cool to have an actual printed record for my own enjoyment at the least, since I know all too well that blogs can go pifft! and all your hard work is lost.

Have you guys backed up your posts lately? Go and do it now!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Witty Words Here

2005-05-16T09:46:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 91

Last night, after I ended up rolling in the mud laughing my ass off while I was on watch with Caeled at 3am, waking everyone up, the group has unanimously decided to cut off my supply of Nutrilite until further notice.

It’s not my fault, I tells ya! Caeled is one funny f*cker. And you know how funny stuff is twice as funny at 3am. No more fun vitamins for me. I hadn't taken enough Nutrilite to get hooked on it, but I do miss the giddy goofy feeling. A little blah today, and maybe that's why.

I wasn't able to get ahold of my Dad last night for our usual "still alive" goodnight talk, and have not been able to reach him today either. So I'm kinda worried/distracted about that too.

It’s rest day, and none too soon. Despite my best efforts, I have a nasty blister on my right big toe that is giving me grief. A day of not tearing it will hopefully do wonders for the healing process.

Not one but three helicopters went overhead today, heading north. None of them took any interest in us, happily. I wonder what’s going on? I’ve checked the news online, but nothing.

I finished the US Army Survival Manual a while back, and I’m now reading a book Jake loaned me, it's called Tell No One. It’s a murder-mystery, not my typical fare, but seems pretty well written. Hey, it’s something different to look at. It’s one of those books that can make you paranoid. Just what I need, another mental issue.

Jake is getting seriously itchy about the upcoming Star Wars movie. He’s talking about almost nothing else, and even Anneli is getting fed up with him. I’d like to see it too, but I’m not losing sleep over it. It’ll still be showing when we arrive in Fairbanks, so I’m not too concerned. The reviews I’ve seen online have been positive, so I’m looking forward to it.

The temperature is still getting down to the 30’s at night, but in the 50’s during the day. So in addition to wearing the insect-protection gear (which is increasingly necessary) we wear one set of coats during the day, and other at night. It’s like a muddy fashion show or a concert, with wardrobe changes on cue.

“That’s a darling jacket!”
“This old thing? I’ve had it for months.”
“Well this is the first I’ve seen it.”
“Wow you like it?”
“Oh yeah the green really brings out your eyes!”

So much for the deep, meaningful discussions on this trip.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Goofin On Gaurana

2005-05-15T09:17:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 90

Yesterday's wet dream was brought to you by Nutrilite Daily Multivitamin.

Robin - sorry I did not answer your question the other day, I was too busy riding my buzz to respond to the world.

Ok there's something in this vitamin that they're keeping secret. See, I ran out of my own vitamins (Centrum Performance) and Anneli hooked me up with some of hers, hence the Nutrilite.

Along with its 4000 IU of this and that (what is the sense of so extremely exceeding the recommended dose of any vitamin, I mean really), there is 518mg of "Nutrilite Concentrate" whatever that is.

And now for the weather - Today water fell from the sky in little droplets, dampening the world. It was really strange. High of 55! I remember when I was a kid, I thought that when it was raining on my house, it was raining on the whole world.

Until one day I was playing in the rain across the street at Tina's house, and Dad called me home and when I got there it wasn't raining. I looked back and Tina was still getting rained on. The world lost some of its magic that day, I can tell you.

Robin - sorry I still have not answered your question. What if Mr. Toothy returns? Same steps as before, really. Get the weapons ready, try to scare him off, and if that doesn't work, well Kwame has been practicing with his bow in the evenings, and been trying to teach the rest of us. As a last resort, we'd kill Mr. Toothy.

But you know, this wolf is doing no wrong. We're in his territory and we plan to do everything we can to avoid killing any furry critters. It's not like he's terrorizing a mall here. We're in his backyard, and he's probably thinking "Get out of my yard!" as he's circling our camp.

But back to the vitamins! Along with my morning slop, I had an innocuous little tablet of Nutrilite, which smells a lot better than Centrum - why do most vitamins smell like ass, I don't know.

And about an hour later I was tweakin! It felt like the first time I was wired on gaurana, thanks be to Josta, circa 1998:

Remember this drink? You can't get it any more, but I loved it. The taste of cola never really appealed, I only drink Coke for its sugar and caffeine. I opt for Mt. Dew when I'm drinking for flavor. Josta had this great fruity flavor without being too sweet, and the gaurana was a real kick in the ass.

I get really talkative on caffeine, but I get really goofy on gaurana. Hmn, maybe instead of "tweak" I should say "goofin on gaurana".

I had another Nutrilite this morning, can you tell? Should it really be effecting me a good 12 hours later? Is arrhythmia ok?

So have I gone mad, is it me - or is it the vitamins? Is it a secret incredient, or just a new mix of the same old nutrients? Maybe vitamins are like shampoo - you know how the first few times you use a new shampoo, you're like "Damn, this stuff is amazing! What was I thinking using that crappy old stuff, my hair looks so good now that I want to jump me."

You look in the mirror and you say "Aw yeah, I'm one sexy mama!" And then a few shampoos later, you realize that the amazing lift and body the new shampoo gave you was a sudsy one night stand, and it stops calling and you never see it again.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Lies! Unfortunate Lies!!

2005-05-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 89

Today is all about daydreaming, none of this happened...

I'm in the tent, worrying a particularly tasty sliver of flesh teasingly tendrilling its way from my left pinky fingernail. Nip ye not too closely, or yelp you will... (it's an old adage I just made up).

I'm in the tent, nibbling my nails, thinking it's high time I outgrew this uncouth habit, when Adrian peeks in the tent flap.

He doesn't enter, but he kneels on the edge. His knees are muddy, he hasn't shaven in months, and despite his rugged mountain man exterior and strong hands that could break most mortal women in twain, he looks vulnerable. His eyes are sad, penitent.

"Litany," He says my name softly, and I can feel the remorse in his voice.

I remove my middle finger from my mouth, and wipe it dry - a coy and feminine gesture - on my shirt, spitting a little piece of fingernail to the right as a forgotten aside. It hits the sloping tent wall and joins the pile of other nails. Sexy thing is, they's mostly toenails, all bearing unsubtle signs of frantic gnawing.

"Ugh huh?" I purr sweetly, considering my next nail and evaluating it for parole. NO! ANOTHER SIX MONTHS! Gnaw gnaw gnaw.

Adrian is swept up in the moment, and moves closer. He raises a hand and reaches out for me, desperate for my touch.

His musky man-hands graze my sensuous elbow - hot and dry, as he likes it - because it's all about friction now isn't it.

"I was wrong to turn you away." He moans softly as we touch. "I'm desperately in love with you. I want to have your babies. Lots of babies. And I'll carry them myself, like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Junior."

"Wuh?" I mumble, using my eye-teeth to worry a thumbnail.

He grabs me, pulls me to him in a crushing embrace of long-suppressed need. "Take me!" He growls, and he kisses me, his tongue slipping, tripping, making quick darting forays into my surprised and delighted rose petaled lips. Our tongues dance a mirror dance of existential animism, wild as Wilde, and twice as pithy.

He stops abruptly and pulls back, a pained look on his glowing face.

Did he pop early? Premature ejaculation? Was I so hot that his untamed libido exploded in his shorts?

"Ugh!" He grunts, pulling a toe-nail out of his mouth.

I nod, "Yeah she was an escapee."

He flings the errant nail onto the pile, and then flings me back onto my sleeping bag. And then before I can take a breath, he's on me like blight on mice.

...Hey, a girl can dream.

Litany Webb, signing off.

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A Cameo By Olympian Brooke Bennett

2005-05-13T08:28:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 88

Email informer Conrad explained to me about the Spruce Bark Beetle calamity in Ack, and it's pretty scary to think that even small fluctuations in temperature can cause whole forests to be wiped out.

Conrad told me that a few rare species of spruce are thought to be more resistant to the beetle, and that might be the reason for the stolen tree escapade yesterday. Interesting stuff, thanks Conrad! It's always nice to get perspective for the weird stuff that's going on.

What if the dude who stole the tree was like a helpful but misunderstood scientist who is trying to save the spruce trees, but they 'Just Don't Understand Him At The University', ala Dr. Frankenstein. I feel you, tree-stealing scientist dude. Them University Types don't grasp my gleanings or connect with my ken neither. Ah caint figgir ouut why.

What litter items have we found, Janine wonders? People being people, we find the same sort of stuff you'd find at the side of any road. I had to ask Church for the listing, since she is the psycho who is actually jotting down a note for each found item. Just teasing, she's my kind of crazy.

Litter Found on Dalton Highway Between Deadhorse and Day 88:
A total of 4 empty plastic water bottles, a disposable baby diaper - used, a $1 bill, a 7-11 Police Only Paper Coffee Cup, one pair women's panties - dark blue, a utility bill for $87.93 worth of Natural Gas for Mr. G Meyers of Sitka, Ack - surprisingly legible, a half-full box of Wheaties - Brooke Bennett on front, a pineapple flavored car freshener, one audio cassette - Foreigner's 'Agent Provocateur' - crushed, a cat's litter box - nearly chewed in half - 'CSI Church' says bunnies did it, one milk crate - pristine, and last but not least - one pair of Bose headphones, crushed and mangled.

We've also found numerous items that are too big for us to try to carry - lots of rubber tread from truck tires, a truck axle, lengths of exhaust pipe, you get the idea.

Holy Caribou, there are some big animals up in here. There were six or eight of them, just wandering around, nibbling grass, as if they owned the place. They were a good ways off in the distance, whew - I have no desire to be gored, and my camera has a sh*tty zoom, it gets so grainy. Note to self, get a better camera.

We were hoping to see some baby caribou, but didn't spot any. Might be a bit too early in season yet. But I think meeting the caribou during a more aggressive protect-the-young phase would not be good, so I'm ok with waiting.

It was really cool to finally see some larger animals. We stopped and just watched them for a good fifteen minutes. We've been seeing a few squirrels, a few birds, etc. (And of course the one-time appearance of Mr. Toothy) But these are big freakin antlered behemoths, and they amble around in a cute, girthy relaxed manner. Like cows with an agenda.

Litany Webb, signing off

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He's Still Father Caeled From The Block

2005-05-12T08:38:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 87

Not long after our mid-day break, we were heading back to follow the road, and this red jalopy of an oversized pickup truck goes zooming by, way too fast, and he's got a small tree (as trees go) in the bed of his truck. Like twice the size of your average Christmas tree, its ass bound in burlap. Now, this tree is not properly secured, and it's flopping around losing branches.

This is odd for several reasons, but mostly because you just don't drive crummy vehicles on this road. This road kills and eats vehicles for brunch.

Being self-appointed road wardens, we grab the fallen branches and throw them off the road. I can just imagine an eighteen wheeler hitting them, gooey with happy new sap, skidding off the road and killing three or four of us. No thanks.

Oh - We've also been cleaning up what litter we find, have I mentioned that? We pack the small items of discarded stuff we find with our own lugged refuse, and rotate who carries it. Yes, we are geeky, environmental hikers. Some stuff we find is too big to worry about, but we try to do our part.

('Leave No Trace' is so utterly opposed to the typical capitalist consumer, American-Dream World-Domination worldview that perhaps it should become a philosophy/religion ala Scientology. Like 'An it Harm None, Do What Ye Will' but without the taint of PopWicca. As a philosophy, I like the idea of "Have fun, and clean up your mess." a lot better than fire, brimstone, and original sin.)

The most priceless item of litter was this paper coffee cup from 7-11, with a 'Police Use Only' imprint on it. First of all, I didn't know that cops got their own special cups - Do they get free coffee? Secondly, where the hell is there a 7-11 around here? Thirdly, who litters with a cop cup, I mean dayum.

So a few short minutes after the red jalopy truck, a National Park Service truck comes by and beckons us: "Have you seen a vehicle recently carrying a stolen tree?" While enjoying an internal grin-and-chuckle at the situation, we politely described the vehicle for the officers. I think they'll catch the thief, it's not like there are a lot of side-streets he can sneak away on.

(At least they didn't seem concerned about our presence, whew!)

It seems that some rare varieties of spruce trees are in danger of theft - I've heard of such things in Los Angeles, where people import crazy expensive trees from far-flung lands, only to have them ripped out of their yard in the night. They've begun hiding a LoJack like device in their expensive trees to help track them to the evil tree thief lair, no I'm not joking.

We took a reading of 51° today. We've started seeing some black flies but haven't noticed any mosquito's yet. It gets down to the 20's at night, so hopefully the bugs are dying off at night, and the ones we see by day are newly spawned. I'm not looking forward to dealing with the insect problem.

We keep a nightly watch now, since the sighting of Mr. Toothy a few days ago. I'd been lobbying for a night-time watch since we started the hike, but you know how some people are - until there's a problem, an ounce of prevention seems like too much.

Caeled is my usual Watch partner. We're tenting together now, and I'm happy about that. I've given up on the idea of talking to Adrian about the awkward kiss thing. What's the use of explaining why he's wrong and why I'm right, if he doesn't want to listen.

Adrian and I are talking, just not talking about anything important. When we turn to find the other person right there - which happens pretty damned often, he launches into some random schpiel. As if he's thinking ahead - "Ok, now if I have to talk to Litany, what will I say? How about if I joke about that Seinfeld episode I saw once? Yeah that'll be great."

Caeled's suddenly in love with a certain phrase, and he'll say it at every opportunity. Whether it's appropriate or not. "Hey Caeled, have you seen the water filter?" works, but "What kind of slop do you want for dinner?" does not. He's like a broken, enthusiastic Magic 8 Ball.

He doesn't seem to mind, though. Caeled's a funny guy, and I'm glad he's with us. He's a deep thinker with an intuitive perception and a skewed sense of humor. He'd make a good priest.

"Father Caeled, what you think about the afterlife?
Will our loved ones be waiting for us on the Other Side?"

"Fo Shizzle, Mah Bizzle!"

Good to know.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Intimate Attentions from Big Bertha

2005-05-11T08:23:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 86

Shows how good my research is, I thought this didn't happen till the summer. Gabe and Adrian were like "Duh!" when I mentioned it. Maybe I'm having memory issues. It's malnutrition, I tells ya!

(That's why a lot of the homeless people you might encounter seem loony - eating random scraps, they begin to have all sorts of mental issues due to malnutrition.)

We're gonna be passing out of the arctic circle soon, so this won't be a factor for us. Oh Good Lady Sharon of Barrow - this will be your first season with three months of eternal sunshine? You'll have to tell us what it's like.

The sun isn't setting for us until about 11:30 at night, which I have to tell you is bizarre. You wanna flick your watch and say "Is this thing broken? Is this AM? No? PM? Ok..." The confusion is worth it though - sleeping a good eight hours, and still having plenty of light for a productive hike is a beautiful, glorious gift.

If you guys have not already, I highly recommend checking out Sharon's Blog. I'm just walking through Ack - she's living it.

Speaking of being homeless, the first thing I would do if I were homeless, I mean like the first day - would be to walk into a store that sold high-priced items (like computers or diamond rings) and very blatantly try to steal something that runs at least a thousand dollars.

Then I'd be arrested, yay. And I'd have a cot to sleep on, food to eat, regular beatings, unwanted intimate attentions from Big Bertha, daily showers, books to read, and so on. When you get out of jail, they help hook you up with a place to live and a job! Hells Yeah baby. No way I'm sleeping an alley, eating food out of trash cans. Prison is the way to go. Plus, the 'Fall and Rise of Litany' memoir would top the NY Times bestseller charts.

CyVault - Greets! I checked my email, and it turns out yours was in the spam folder for some reason. Maybe my spam settings are too severe. When I saw your name, my mind pronounced it Sivault, like a Bizarro Tybalt. I don't know why.

Glad to hear you're enjoying the blog Cy. As I ramble into Marina's voicemail, we are located at 66°56'47N and 150°22'58W. Just how real-time is this spy satellite thing of yours? Can you see me waving? How many fingers am I holding up? Do I have to beware when I squat? You know, when I'm hiding behind a tree peeing, do I have to worry about my pale white ass showing up on radar?

The Great Wall of China, and Litany's Cracker Ass, two things you can see from space.

Hopefully I've heard the last of The Husband situation. I replied to the woman's email and politely tried to explain I've done nothing to encourage her man. I detailed the differences between a blog post and an email. No answer yet, and hopefully there won't be. And I had the impression that the guy just wanted to meet and greet, not join up with the group. I could be wrong... I hope I'm not wrong, that would be scary. "I've left my whole world for you, Litany!"

What do you say to that? How do you convince such a person to return to their responsibilities? I hope I never have to find out. It's my desperate hope that the whole thing is a misunderstanding.

As for Gabe, Kwame, and etc fending off female fans, Hah! They'd be too busy enjoying the attention to do any fending. They dream of waking up in a snuggly spoon-pile of nude gal groupies.

I of course, have no such aspirations, despite my previous, misguided, wicked desires for an all-stud harem. I was very wrong, and will now pursue a virtuous life. The first convent I come across that isn't drafty, I'm signing up. Really... (Wide-eyed innocent blinking, cutely)

I've received very few angry emails, like four or five I think. But they weren't at all funny, so I didn't bother mentioning most of them. A good 99% of the feedback has been very encouraging, which has been great. I Love My Public! All 5 of you! Sniffle!

Litany Webb, signing off

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A Rush of Mutant Endorphins

2005-05-10T08:25:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 85

On the road again! Goodbye Coldfoot, I will miss your deep-fried goods, your crass truckers, and your sexy uniformed National Park Service Rangers. What is it about a uniform, (Yum!) I don't know. I've got some fertile valleys you could range in, big boy...

Sharon and Kato, thanks for the Arby's recommendations. I've never had the goodly onion product you described, I'll have to check it out. Is it like a 'Bloomin Onion' at Outback, but smaller? Oh and Kato, you don't need to come to Ack for skanky wenches, they're everywhere.

Robin - You're right of course. If Church got held back for some reason, we could not continue without a person with medical expertise. And even if we wanted to replace her or any of the other members (except me, let's face it - with no real skills, I'm the easiest one to lose) it could take many months to find the proper person (how well I know).

Wow, this email I received is too good not to share. I got an email from an angry woman who wants me to stop writing to her husband.

Here's an excerpt:
"...this kind of flirting and messing around is not acceptible and has got to stop immediately. He's talking about buying a ticket to Alaska to meet you in Anchorage and we don't have the money to waste on something like that we have two kids to worry about for gods sake and he's suppose to have good priorities."

It goes on for a few more paragraphs, but that's the best bit. Except for the part where she recommends that I need to find some morals and learn to behave like a 'Good Christian Woman', whatever that means.

Um, I have never written to her husband. I email like five people, tops. Of course, Angry Wife never tells me Poor Husband's name, so I guess it's possible - if her husband is Kato. Do you have an angry wife I should know about Kato?

Unless she means comments posted to blogs...but I've made darned few comments lately. Also, we're not going anywhere near Anchorage, so husband would be mighty disappointed if he was waiting around to meet up with the group. We'll be heading SE from Fairbanks, towards British Columbia.

I drew the short straw this morning and am the first lucky mofo to bear the weight of the generator. It's thrown my typical weight ratio out of wack and I'm walking differently, which makes me sore in different places. Places I didn't even know I had places. You'd think I'd be entirely toughened up by now, but I'm still discovering new muscles to tear.

Maybe I'll discover a new muscle - something no one else has because I'm a mutant of the muscular kind. It will activate, triggering a rush of mutant endorphins into my system, triggering still more changes... and I will become Mighty!

Ah, odds are it would be some silly power. Like an innate sense for when microwave popcorn is about to burn. Wheee!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Slapping My Face With Its Burningness

2005-05-09T08:27:00.000-07:00

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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Giggle Wiggle Boob Shaker

2005-05-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 83

Thank goodness for your questions, I'm spared from random blatherings about nothing. And you're spared from reading them! Let's share a collective sigh of relief, shall we? More queries please yes thank you.

Robin wonders who would visit Coldfoot...
Truckers, and also lots of truckers. I was kinda expecting truck-stop hookers, but I have not seen any. Maybe I just don't recognize them in cold-weather garb - I'm used to the scantily clad California flavor.

Here are a few people we've met, some cool peeps!

Ernie Weaver, meteoroligist.
On his way to Science Station AE432-9Z (Sorry Ernie, I don't recall the actual station number... to gather data and spend three months doing system maintenance. He's based in Anchorage and has three kids. I can't imagine leaving my kids for three months. Hard enough to leave my kitty.

David Janney, a blacksmith-turned artist.
Smithy is an art itself, in my humble opinion. David is scrounging around old railroad lines - as in 100 or more years old - looking for antique rail spikes that he then smiths into angels. It seems people will pay big money in their collection of all things angel-related, and lots of people collect them.

Suzanna Hill, of San Diego, California. Like, Gosh!
She is a human Barbie doll and is actually pretty intelligent under her superficial persona. She's savvy, more than sharp, if that makes sense. She preens she blinks she flirts cute as a button on a hot pink garter belt. She's a giggle-wriggle-boob-shaker oh tee hee you're so funny. She's up here to land herself a man who will be gone for months at a time, leaving her alone to work on her world domination fashion-designing empire.

Have I mentioned that Suzanna is incapable of cursing? Her favorite nigh-cuss is 'Forget that!'

Suzanna's a would-be sex-pot snow bunny who has no business this far from San Diego. She's traveling with a mountain of gear, and it's pretty obvious that she walked into an REI, slapped Daddy's American Express Card on the counter, and said 'Two of everything, please.' When we met her, she was struggling with the packaging for her Swiss Army Knife, trying to get it open. She'd been messing with it for a good ten minutes, worrying it with her butter knife to no avail. I hope for her sake she meets a good man soon.

Ancethcal - Welcome, welcome. Have not seen any help-wanted signs, nope. And really, I wouldn't recommend living here even if there were. It really just a resupply station, a layover, not a stop. It would be like living at an airport. And despite the great time Viktor Navorski had living in his airport, I don't recommend it.

Sharon - Yeah the mud is already becoming a pain in the ass. It still gets below freezing at night, so that helps reduce the brown slop factor. But I'm not looking forward to slogging through this stuff for months on end. Sorry to hear about your computer problems!

I'd like to recommend the Coldfoot Café as serving the worlds best bacon cheeseburger and fries. Heaven!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Halfway to Fairbanks!

2005-05-07T10:03:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 82

A little more than halfway, actually factually. We've reached Mile 175 of the Dalton Highway, and arrived in Coldfoot! It's really just a group of buildings in the middle of nowhere. It's nice to see something of civilization, and the hustle and bustle therin.

We were hoping to secure lodging for one person/one bed, and then sneak in and let everyone shower, one by one. But no. The Inn's rooms are $165 a night, and despite our charismatic charms, there was no haggling that would improve the price.

So we hit the RV Park, getting our camp shower on.
Better than nothing.

Laundry!! Almost more succulent than being able to bathe is having clean clothes. These three guys ahead of us hogged the machines for like four hours. Hey, what can you do, first come first served.

Coldfoot is a welcome respite from hiking, let me tell you! Only thirteen people live here, and the rest are folks passing through. The name Coldfoot comes from the gold prospecting days of the early 1900's. It seems a lot of would-be can-do types reached this point and turned around and went home. Can't say I blame them.

Today's Coldfoot has an inn, a restaurant, a gift shop, a gas station, an automotive repair shop, a truckstop, and an airstrip. Oh and there's a visitor's center, but it's closed for a few more weeks. You know, until Spring gets here.

The sign reads:
"Welcome to Coldfoot Camp. You are 55 miles north of the Arctic Circle on the east bank of the Middle Fork Koyukuk River at the mouth of Slate Creek, which drains to the east. This is the site of the former gold mining community of Coldfoot, which was built here at the turn of the century. According to historical records, the original town of Coldfoot got its name in the Summer of 1900 when one of the waves of green stampeders got as far up the Koyukuk at this point, then got cold feet, turned around and ran."

I'm going to take another shower now. Wheeee!

Litany Webb, signing off

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Most Terribly Not Dead

2005-05-06T08:43:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 81

We saw our first wolf last night, right after sunset.
Caeled saw him first, he was coming back from taking a pee. The wolf was skirting the edge of camp, at the very edge of the perimeter.

I think it took a lot of restraint for Caeled not to scream "Wolf!!!" Instead, he calmly and carefully informed us.

We're calling the wolf a 'He' because that's what he felt like. We can't be sure though. No one was about to sneak up and examine its reproductive organs.

It was scary. He looked pretty big and bushy, and a brownish and greyish color. Every so often the light would catch in his eyes and they would seem to flash. Eep! Since we don't keep a roaring fire (or any fire - in our Authorities, Please Don't Notice Us mode) there was really nothing to keep Mr. Toothy at bay.

We got the bow and the slingshot ready, but there wasn't anything else to do. We tried to watch every direction, and it was hard to shake the feeling that we were being stealthily surrounded.

Church pointed out that Mr. Toothy was limping, and that his coat was mottled and bare skin was showing through in spots. She guessed that he might be a cast-off, perhaps an elder male banished from his pack. How sad is that! Poor thing. Poor big, scary, hungry man-eater. Compared to a caribou, I'd be a snack.

Anneli was the first to weaken and succumb to our venerable stalker.
"What do wolves eat? Can we toss him a -" She asked Church.

"Don't be silly." Church replied flatly. "That's not an adorable stray. He's a predator."

In the end, Gabe tossed a small firecracker about twenty feet in the wolf's general direction, and when it went off with three loud bangs, the wolf took off.

We kept a rotating watch all night, but no more sightings. Very Creepy. I did not sleep well last night, and during our two-hour watch Caeled and I did our best not to talk about wild hungry lupines. We just rambled on about music instead.

Jake and Anneli have officially made up! (I never did find out what their fight was about) And as such, we could not allow them to share a watch together, since they would no doubt be snogging while a pack of hungry wolves snuck up on us.

I can just imagine - -

Gabe: "Jake, Anneli - Did you guys see anything weird last night?"

"No, nothing, why?" Nervous glance between them.

"Well something ate most of Litany, and half of Adrian."

"Good God! Are they dead?"

"No, that's the scary part."

Litany Webb, signing off

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Chaos, Avalanches and Whatnot

2005-05-05T08:43:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 80

I'm a screamer.
And I don't mean that in the sexual way - (although...) - I mean, I'm very vocal. I can be quiet and reserved when the situation calls for it, but typically I'm a pretty upbeat somewhat loud human being.

If I have to be quiet for too long, I do this odd thing, maybe other people do this too - A silent scream. I'll hide my face from people and I'll make this total psycho screaming face, and I can hear it in my head, all piercing. I imagine the scream streaming out of my mouth as if I were a banshee, knocking over people and trees and causing chaos, avalanches and whatnot.

Silent Screaming helps me maintain my sanity. Just thought I'd share that, and see if any of you guys have any similar tricks for maintaining your sanity in this irritating, antagonistic world of ours. Perhaps I can adopt your tricks and become a sane, well-balanced human some day.

(Speaking of reasons to scream, the misguided kiss-oops-justa-friend thing with Adrian is still uncomfortable, we have not talked it out, it's very awkward, and I am one dumb bizzle.)

Gabe took a reading of 46 degrees today. It seems that the Spring we've heard so much about has finally begun to manifest. Allow me to complain at this new turn of temperature.

I should rename the blog The Complaining of Litany. While being cold sucks, being somewhat cold and all wet really really sucks. I kinda miss the days when constant dripping sounds did not make me need to pee once an hour. I've become pretty adept at holding it.

And that's with no Poop Tent! Gabe and Anneli are working on building a substitute for us all. Whatever. I wish them all the luck, but I'm now resigned to my bare ass to the wind destiny.

Snow and Ice, wherefore art thou? Water as a solid is a much more predictable, friendly substance. You know what ice is gonna do. This new, strange liquid stuff is so chaotic. What's up with that.

Still feeling crummy, though I have no symptoms to report. I'd really, really, really like a week off at a resort spa in the Caribbean, though. Is that a symptom? I slept all day yesterday, and didn't even do my typical relaxing-day-off stuff. That's when I know I'm tired.

We should reach Coldfoot in the next day or two. Oddly, the highway signs seem undecided on how to refer to it - some say 'Cold Foot' and others 'Coldfoot'. Which is correct? Anyway we should be there soon. We're pretty low on funds at this point, so this stop will be all about getting resupplied, and not so much about comfy beds. Even after we arrive in Fairbanks, we'll still be camping. And working odd jobs to earn hike-funding cash, bleh.

I'd like to apologize to you guys - I'm still reading your blogs, really. But the sad state of the satellite system battery - (no, I still have not found the spare. I've given up) - means that I have come up with a new process for reading web pages.

I either save the content to my hard drive, or just speed read through, and hurry on to the next amazing blogger. So you should know that I still love and adore you - especially you, yes you know who you are - and I read you daily, but I gotta be expedient in my page views.

Yesterday, there was an actual, bona fide argument about whose turn it was to read the People magazine we took in trade the other day. And it wasn't even the girls - not to participate in stereotyping, but People is more a gal's demographic. It was Kwame and Gabe, of all people, and whoda thunk it?

Ugh I just hope that People Magazine has not turned into a stroke mag for these guys. I know they're short on new visual stimuli, but really that's the only reason I can devise as to why two men would fight over it.

Not like it's Penthouse, or even Stuff. I didn't really probe into the reasons, I just heard the yelling - yes, yelling, and did not care to fact-find beyond that.

I don't know what they're doing with that mag, and I'm just glad I'm done reading it.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Nap Nap All The Live Long Day

2005-05-04T08:24:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 79

I’m not feeling very well today.
Fatigued. Weak. When I got up this morning after a good ten hours of sleep and forced myself through breakfast, all I could think about was how good a six hour nap would feel.

Maybe I’m coming down with something, but I sincerely hope not. Thank Vishnu today is a rest day.

I’m going to cop out, use a Free Spin, and provide for you here a poem I wrote the other night. It’s a self-pity parade typical of thirteen year olds toying with laudanum.

- - - - -

Patches of Green………………………...................By Litany Webb

I turn the music up too loud
To drown out my thoughts,

I can’t control where they take me
Days ago and far away

Is just too far to go
Or return from

Now knowing what I now know
I (think) I love you

Remains, impossible to ignore
Nor would I wish to

Even this thought - this small thing - hurts
Bittersweet and vague

The music loudest now,
Electronic beats drowning out BPM

DC electron flow disturbing my disturbances
Doubt-dodging self-blame synapses

It’s harder to hear my heart weeping
It’s a soft sound, but it carries.

Until the song ends
The iPod dies

And I have to remember

Litany Webb, signing off

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Blogging on Blogging on Blogging

2005-05-03T08:48:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 78

The great Robin (of Robin Diane's Conversations fame) got me thinking about blogging.

None of my thoughts on blogging are going to be new or erudite in the least, as I am just rambling and not writing a thesis. Forgive me, leave me, do what you must.

In case the links are broken some day, here's the quote:
"It seems to me that the problem with diaries, and the reason that most of them are so boring, is that every day we vacillate between examining our hangnails and speculating on cosmic order." -Ann Beattie, Picturing Will

I'd like to preface this rant by saying there are a lot of brilliant, thoughtful, well-done blogs out there. Very wise, funny, witty perspectives on daily life. Great writing, work that makes you wonder how on Earth it's not in paper-and-ink print, and how all the crappy novels and crummy essays get published and these blogs get overlooked.

There should be an editor at each publishing house who has no other job but to scour the web for these brilliant blogs and bring them into the world of print -

- Share with the rest of the world the great writing, performed by ordinary Joes and Janes every day that almost seems to redeem humanity from our 'Welcome to Jerry-Springer's America' destinies.

Blogging is perfect for fandom - it lets people create a web page in mere moments, cheering their favorite team or show or book, spreading the word, sharing their great thing they found.

Blogging is like a ready-made support group a person can create at a moments notice. You can discuss dealing with an illness, your highs and lows, and other people can read it and see that they're not alone, discuss treatments with you, and you both grow and learn and deal together.

But then - I'm kind of torn. Blogging is like keeping a diary that you choose to leave on the table at Starbucks - attached with those odd spherical chains like a bank pen to the very granite foundation of the mini-mall. And then are aghast when someone posts an 'anti' comment.

It's like a yearbook you pass around on the last day of school, hoping that a few members of the football team will leave you their phone numbers along with their signatures.

In this virtual diary you rant, you ramble, you revel in life and its mysteries and its bullsh*t. And then you wait for delicious feedback.

For many blog writers, it seems far more about the feedback than it is about the content. (I've absolutely been guilty of this at times). You want the world to toss some validation your way and pad your ego with compliments.

It neat that we can reach out to this dimension of the universe and meet folks who can interact with us without our typical baggage of attitude - Maybe everyone 'Katrina' knows in person is an assh*le, but Cool-Dude43 thinks she's amazing.

And it's a good thing that Cool-Dude doesn't really know Katrina in person, because then he'd treat her like an assh*le too, because she's a bitch of the first order, and people treat her poorly because she treats them badly.

But in a blog, her bad behavior becomes funny, like something we see on a sitcom. An amusing anecdote. It's an uncomfortable scene that we cringe at but continue to watch, like Meet the Parents.

And we comment on Katrina's blog and tell her that it was a funny thing she did, to be rude to a whole store full of cashiers and customers. Which primes her for future bad behavior and furthers her delusion that her behavior is acceptable and everyone around her is just a jerk.

Katrina pretends the blog is a private thing that the world has oops! accidentally stumbled upon, and reacts with self-righteous rage when a reader suggests that maybe she needs to not be a bitch.

As for blogging about blogging, it would be silly not to talk about anything you care to mention in your own diary.

If I make an entry about a problem - and someone posts a helpful comment, then obviously breaking that wall, in both directions, is the reason the functionality for interaction exists.

Otherwise, just jot your thoughts down in a paper notebook and hide it between your mattress and box-springs.

And if a blog I read make me happy or pause to think, then that's part of my day and deserves note in my diary.

This is our chosen medium, it's all about communication. Ann Beattie is accurate but not correct, (note - I have not read her book, or the quote in context) as she seems to underestimate the soul-searching, defining moments of sharing, and usefulness of stumbling along, examining our hangnails.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Oh So Glad It Wasn't My Fault

2005-05-02T09:49:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 77

Where to begin.
We lost a vital, beloved member of the team today.

It was tragic, regrettable, and the twisted remains are hard to look at, even now.

Remember those winds I mentioned weeks ago, and the chasing of the bags which bounced merrily away? Well that was on the wide-open flat nothing of tundra, where no blown item could truly get away as long as we cared to chase it.

It was the blessed flat nothingness of open snow, where patience and plodding after a bastard bag escapee meant never having to say you’re sorry.

Picture me at a piano with Carroll O’Connor.
Those Were - yea verily - The Days.

It was about 5:30 in the AM, and I approached the Poop Tent, as Gabe and Church were attending it in morning service.

And then, with an abrupt leap away from us - the Poop Tent escaped, caught in one of those mischievous Loki-Spawned Winds like unto the one that stole Frosty’s hat in the classic tale of woe.

So well-timed was the elated tent’s freedom-bounce-jouncing down the slushy slope and into the highway, so perfect the curve in the road, the approach of the truck, so exacting the impact as Gabe, Church and I watched with horrified faces, as a slow motion, deep-voice-distorted ‘NOOOO!’ escaped our lips, and the tent was CRUNCHED under the giant right-side wheels of an eighteen wheeler.

I don’t think the trucker ever realized he’d hit anything, oh so ephemeral the mass of the tent compared to his truck. The big rig roared on northward, in a “I sh*t bigger’n you.” huff.

We three scooted down the slope as fast as we could, as if getting there quickly mattered. As if we could resuscitate the shredded remains with a 9-Volt and the Desperate Will not to pee with our asses bare to the toothy wind, our fanged and hungry foe.

The flexi-tubes that had so energetically sang an ardent ‘poof!’ for so long were snapped like chicken bones, split along their length and splintered. Not even a weak or weary ‘flup’ could be summoned from the corpus.

Bow your heads, my brethren. The Poop Tent is no more.

I would like to state for the record that it was not my fault, it was Church. Church and Gabe. I only got there just in time to see the horrible episode unfold. I wish I had it on TiVo.

And then we had to break the news to the rest of the crew.

Oh my - You should have seen everyone else’s faces as we told them what happened. With our arm wavings and gesticulations and gestures and the sound effects and the crying and eventually the display of the corpse itself. Yes, the once mighty poop tent had to lie in state before they could all really believe that the damage was more than duct tape could bear to repair.

They were still bleary from sleep, and it had to seem unreal to their recently woken world. ‘It’s a nightmare. I’ll wake up. It’s not real.’

But it is real. And it’s a nightmare. Jake responded with his typical denial rage. It seems The Man is still trying to keep him down. Caeled teared up, I swear. I’m a bit misty myself.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Props to All Us World War 1 Flying Aces!

2005-05-01T20:22:00.000-07:00

Days Walking - 76

Kinda blah over the Adrian thing, but I did it to myself, so I really can’t whine too much. Thanks, Kato for the insightful thoughts! Sorry to hear you've been shot down lately - hopefully not behind enemy lines. At least you and I tried to go for it - hey, nothing ventured, nothing suckled.

Sometimes it seems like potential mates are just hanging out in their bunkers of interesting date-me-chase-me sexiness, high-powered anti-aircraft guns of un-love at the ready:

Ratatataaatatataapsewwwpsewwpseww
Bbbrrghrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Smoke smoke smokeee
Fire flames shooting burning scorching spiraling into the ground...
Charred remains of my heart!!

We met some cool folks on the road today, Dan and Bertha Powter, a couple heading north from Fairbanks. They stopped on the road and starting waving to us, so we headed in their direction.

Since I’ve done none of the metting and greeting so far, Kwame and Gabe insisted that I make first contact. These people seemed interested in friendly relations, so it wasn’t very hard to step forward as spokesperson.

They were very cool and offered me a hearty “Howdy!”

Dan and Bertha are a retired couple from El Paso, Texas. They were wearing matching blue snow-jumpers, so cute! Dan was a factory supervisor and Bertha raised four children and volunteered for fifteen years at the local Rape Crisis Center. Ouch, I have to give her props. And do people really, actually still have four children in this day in age? When it’s not a religious imperitive? Hmn.

The Powters were stylin in their hunter green Range Rover. Now that’s the way to travel. They’d overheard CB traffic about us crazy hiking mofos and wanted us to sign their Travel Diary. The travel diary is a really cute little rust-colored book with gilded pages and lots of people have signed it from thirty three of the fifty states.

It’s like a yearbook almost, people have put little phrases in with their signatures. We all signed it, and I’m sorry to say the only thing I could think of to say was “It was nice to meet you!”. Jake wrote “Have a great summer, and don’t drink the water.”

Which is odd because Alaska is all about the water.

We did some bartering with the Powters, they were pretty well equipped and there wasn’t much we had that was of interest to them. In the end, trade commenced.

We gave up some powdered pain killer and four AAA batteries, which were supposed to be for some laser-powered range-finder piece of crap gadget of Anneli's that never worked right anyway. The Powters hooked us up with two rolls of duct tape, a new copy of People magazine with Julia Roberts on the cover, and a fuel-full bic cigarette lighter. Good times!

It was really cool to talk with Bertha and Dan. Church and I were chatting with Bertha and at 68 years old, she’s pretty darned sharp. Dan was chuckling it up with the menfolk, and I heard them swapping some fish stories/tall tales. It was nice to chat with some normal humans for a change.

Holy crap, some bears are getting their ravage on, and I’m not sorry we missed this. From the Juneau Empire: “Four big polar bears — including three 1,000-pound males with bloody muzzles and yellow-stained fur — were dining together on whale carcasses at a sand spit about a mile outside the northeastern Alaska village of Kaktovik.”

Did I mention that it was delightfully, surprisingly warm today? I took a reading of 43 freakin degrees! There was the weirdest sound, all around us, it was kind of creepy actually. The sound of snow melting, water flowing, dripping, blurbling, getting all our gear sopping wet. We’re not used to this bizarre liquid environment, Help! There was much wringing going on today.

Hey, at least it’s something new to do.

Litany Webb, signing off

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Like An Amateurish Inane Teeny Bopper

2005-04-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-29T08:57:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-28T08:29:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-27T08:38:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-26T08:22:00.000-07:00

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.

2005-04-25T08:27:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-24T08:48:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-22T08:38:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-21T08:39:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-20T08:40:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-19T08:23:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-18T08:28:00.000-07:00

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!!

2005-04-17T08:16:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-16T09:14:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-15T08:33:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-14T08:33:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-13T08:36:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-12T08:48:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-11T08:33:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-10T08:48:00.000-07:00

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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