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Yesterday was a long day, so this morning, as a treat, we get up late, at 6.00am.
After breakfast we discuss the agenda for the day. Cenni thinks that Greeny simply ran out of gas. Even though the gauge showed a different reading, that's what the symptoms suggest.
Greeny is an old warrior, and so are his instruments. So, what they indicate is not necessarily true. We fill up a canister from the camp's hand-operated gas pump and throw it in the back of the jeep. There are four of us in the vehicle, and we set off to where we left Greeny.
The Greeny Rescue Team - that's what we named ourselves yesterday - saves the brave automobile from its dire predicament. After that we even have a quick hunt, employing the usual methods. We are so well equipped with various precision guns, semi-automatic shotguns, and AR-15 rifles, that the coyotes lie low, too afraid to come out.
Chapter VIII.: Deer Hunter
Page 53
In the afternoon we drive over to Jim's house, near Saratoga. I had my last bath a week ago, when I was in Denver, a fact that would be obvious to anyone standing too close to me. It is high time I had a thorough wash. There is a shower in the camp, the water heated by gas from a cylinder. It is a clever piece of apparatus, but this morning is rather cool, there has even been a little snow, so - call me a wimp, if you like - I'd rather have my wash at Jim's house. It is also a little suspicious that, since I've been here, I have not seen anyone using the shower.
Wyoming is a deceptive, somewhat confusing, place.
Here we are, driving over an endless plain, yet we are 6600ft. above sea-level. If you climb up even a small mountain, you will be above 9000ft.. I'm not sure if an R22 helicopter - the type I tried out in Alaska - would be able to fly in this thin air. It might be too high for a small engine.
Nothing shows that we are at such a great height, unless it's the fact that the sky seems so close.
Even the small, fluffy clouds look as is if they are within arm's length. And we can watch the storm clouds being born right in front of our eyes. We speed along in the clear sunshine. We catch up with a cloud, driving right into its center, and then, instantly, the temperature drops 50F. It is actually snowing at the bottom of the cloud, though it doesn't last for long. We soon pass through it, and the sunshine is back.
During the afternoon, sitting in the dining tent, I write my diary. I have put a lot of wood in the stove. (Since the chimney has been unblocked there has been no more smoke in the tent.) There are cheeseburgers for dinner.
I pour half a bottle of Tabasco over mine, and I don't spare the cans of beer, either.
Chapter VIII.: Deer Hunter
Page 54
Jeff the Guide's Daughter's House
Laramie