Although the wind seemed to lull in the night, a blizzard
white-out proper has now blown-up. 6am this morning came and went, and when I
finally decided that my bowels could take the strain no longer, I discovered
that it was 10:20, my boots and laces frozen, my Cagjac soaking and the surface
of the inner tent drenched. Actually venturing our produced a curios difficulty
in maintaining standing up (or squatting) positions, a lot of frozen snow in
eyes, nose, clothes etc. and a gradual pile up of snow on the fly.
Four days have been spent in this fashion, with today’s
added bonus of a wet interior but books need reading and diaries need writing.
Thank God our tent is still up (Touch wood. What wood?).
Sam came back in a little after I came back to inform me
that we were leaving at 11am “apparently you can ski more in a blizzard with
the wind behind you”- and did I know the word ‘gullible’ had been taking out of
the dictionary?
The only external evidence of civilisation (?) is the
clatter of Rob doing their tent’s ‘snow scrubbing-up’ – maybe he’ll do ours as
well since he’s using our pan scrubber. That would be nice. (He just did).
Now, tent retirement. Sleep comes with difficulty since the
tent is constantly roaring from the wind/, and now we have the additional heavy
patter of iced snow. What fun?
15:30 – 1.5 hours to take-off – the conditions have improved
and we are finally leaving the dump. Rations to be sorted and carried and the
tent to be packed and carried and…
We’re off!
John and Roger were navigating up ahead and Sam, Philippa and
I counting paces. The snow alternates frequently between powdery and slushy,
and it is cold. The views are quite something though. Eternal expanses of white
which are mildly undulating.
Then I began falling down and my weakness results in 10
minutes just trying to get my damn rucksack straight. The waistband is faulty
and it is agony to carry. Various people seem to think that I am doing this on
purpose (or so it appears to me). Life is very, very, very miserable. I
shouldn’t be here because I’m not fit enough and frankly prefer the cushier
life. My right shoulder and hip are in constant pain and I keep overbalancing.
I don’t know how on earth I am going to survive these next few days but I do
know that I have paid a great deal of money to be unhappy. I am accused of
whingeing when I say anything (which is probably true) and when I’m not being
laughed at I’m being hurried along and reprimanded. I can’t blame anyone except
myself and although I know the only solution is to grin and bear it, I just
can’t handle it. I’m always clothes, my clothes wet and unable to cope. How I
wish I was like Sam. I HATE this.
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