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fingers and toes, they hurt so badly. I tell myself that quitting would
cause much greater pain that would last a lifetime, so I put that thought
out of my mind.
Last night I had a dream, probably inspired by the weird shapes of
the sastrugi. I dreamed that a great white whale, just like Moby-Dick,
came lunging at me out of the ice. I was terrified that it was going to
harm me, but instead it led me to safety.
The altitude now is over 2600 metres, and it is hard to breathe.
With that and the driving wind and snow, I am averaging a desperately
slow pace. The heavy, powdery snow is sapping my energy. With some
steps I sink in it down to my knees then have to drag my leg out to take
another step. I'm not the only one struggling: the bloody vehicle keeps
getting bogged.
I've been thinking of home and of Brooke's approaching birth-
day, figuring out a way to send her something to remind her of how
much I love her.
