August 8th . . . moving out . . .

8 a.m. and loading up to move out. 

3:40 p.m.  Some creek ? . . . Matt and I are feeling the pain, but Nate has just moved on, eager to make purple lake by this evening. No doubt we will also, but at a much more relaxed rate. I think Matt is feeling the pain in his tendons or somewhere? 

Me––just my feet hurt. No, my ego also hurts––turns out I didn’t make sure to check that there was film in the camera. All those shots I took––that feels just awful, but as the guys have said, I’ve got them in my heart––I can see them. I know I was there and there are more peaks to climb. 

I wrote so many letters yesterday––it’s too bad I couldn’t just “zerox” one and be done with it––the telling of my story of our night from hell––but I am too burnt out now to put it all down in the journal––but what more is there to say––there was rain, wind, thunder, lightning and hail. 

It scared the hell out of me, but I was also fairly calm about it––or resolved to staying put and dealing with the consequences––or not having to deal with anything at all. 

Looks like I might be doing a little work at Vermilion!!! It could be fun and relatively profitable. 

4:45 and Matt is still sitting back there. Time to put a good dose of bug juice on. 

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I don’t have any idea at this point, who Matt or the other guy is/are? I think that Matt, at least was camped down on the tarn, through much of the weather and neither of us ever got out to notice the other. 

But obviously we hooked up and made it into Red’s, where I got the crazy idea to call ahead to the VVR and see if they needed help . . . and not one word about either the stretch between Donahue and Reds––I think I was just trying to keep up with the crew––happy to feel the energy and companionship of others after such an experience as my last few days. 

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