THE SMALL THINGSDay 15 on Terrain
Position 74°49'07"N, 50°11'37"W
We were under the subtle influence of fatigue today as our bodies collected some of its debt from the past few days travel. A difficult, direct-downwind line of travel required maximum effort and output to generate consistent momentum. We meandered our way "downstream" which felt a lot slower than we were, in actual fact. When you travel the same speed of the wind, tearing past your ears. Despite feeling sluggish, our speed over ground was between 20 and 30km/hr.
Now, to digress into the more practical challenges of the day-to-day tent life, when confined to such small quarters, everything takes an inordinate amount of time. I would love to be able to measure the calories one burns to put on your layers for the day, take off your layers for the night, then realise you forgot something from the sled. At this point, you are faced with two choices: restart the layer routine, feeling flustered and encumbered by your slip of memory OR make a heroic dash outside in your thermals alone. Admittedly, the heroic dash feels empowering in that split moment, until the wind tears through to your soul, your core temperature plummets and you begin to question your sanity.
I must also divulge in order to demystify the unspoken question around personal cleanliness. By now you would be right in assuming our external appearance is rather unsightly. After layers of compounding sweat and grime, and being without the luxury of a fresh pair of socks, or undergarments for that matter - eventually, the usual days odours that go unrecognised begin to linger and well, become recognisable.
On a solo mission, you have all the time and space in the world, to attend to these matters - you can answer The Call Of The Wild at your leisure, even within the comfort of your vestibule (the small cavity inside the door of your tent.) Not advisable when sharing cramped quarters with your father in law. Indeed we have a close and transparent relationship, however, some boundaries are never meant to be crossed. Instead, one must face hard facts, trudge outside, bare all in ultimate vulnerability and receive the fierce lashings of the breeze, until the deed is done. The only consolation is the immense relief one experiences after the fact.
Finally, those that know me well, appreciate my intense passion for a good strong brew of morning nectar (coffee.) More and more, I feel myself fantasising about leaving our little coffee bags behind and strolling down to see Jerry at our local, Portside Coffee. I feel myself no less than pining after the mere thought of it. Even better still, a lovely Saturday morning coffee date with my love.
Until then, to another grand day ahead and another grand nap in my beloved sleeping bag.
Today's mileage: 120kms