Several times last night, I had to fix a technical failure.
My bed is comfortable, but not very skillfully designed. It has collapsed under me twice. The first time I was able to put it back together, but after the second, I had to call John in. And then, a little later, I manage to put a hole through my tent. I have some camouflage duct tape - this is the super-strong American type, not the poorer version available in Hungary - and so I put a patch over it. We wake to clear skies; there is no need to delay the hunt.
There is oatmeal for breakfast: a hot, sweet, somewhat unalluring mash, but it is delicious and nourishing.
We stay on the well-chosen hill where we are camping, but go a little higher up, and from the rocks can watch the undergrowth and clearings below. I hold out for two hours. We are sitting in our third hiding place, when I succumb to an unexpected bout of sleeping sickness. I fall asleep sitting up. I soon wake up, but feel very tired. People I've been lucky enough to hunt with will back me up when I state that I'm not one of those hunters who typically says " Tell Me If You See Something And I'll Come And Shoot It", and who spends most of the hunt either in bed, or just in the tent. But, even so, I have to ask John to take over my watching, and I retreat to my tent. I sleep until noon; lunch is just being prepared. I haven't missed anything; there's been nothing moving in the entire neighborhood.
I hope my hunting luck has not turned.
My notebook's battery is on its deathbed. I shall have to start writing by hand.
I am sure that batteries, and charging them, become the major preoccupation of any trip or expedition after about the third day. Altitude sickness, sore feet, upset stomachs and diarrhea, aching joints and stiff muscles, all soon become just routine for the group, and, after a few days, nobody bothers to mention them. But not batteries!
This is a simply inexhaustible topic of conversation. Who has the latest alkaline / metal / lithium /
digital / hybrid / cadmium / duracell-ionic battery, and how long will it last? Do you think I've brought enough? Is that charger compatible with this? How many hours / minutes / seconds is its expected life, and how can it be prolonged? During every breakfast, break, and dinner, this is the recurring question. While climbing up neck-breaking walls of rock some people will happily chat about the energy saving abilities of their camera. Somebody might have lost his wallet, or maybe can't find his passport, but the important thing is he's still got his batteries. Nothing is more
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important. When planning a journey, battery use, the chances of recharging it, and the possibilities of finding a source of electricity, are of prime concern. Members of the group soon form cliques, depending on their type of battery. Those who need the same sort for their wonderful electronics will forge unbreakable bonds until the trip ends.
Experienced mountaineers suddenly turn into battery experts.
They learn how to squeeze out the last drop of energy from their rechargeable batteries, each in their own particular way. Every responsible member of the expedition will have his own method of keeping his battery going. One swears that by warming it up he hopes to gain some extra energy, while another does the exact opposite, and cools it down. There are some who try to revive a dead battery by rubbing it; another colleague explains his theory that all gadgets use energy, even when switched off, so he always removes his batteries, even from his head-flashlight when he's not using it. (These generally end up getting lost, thus solving his energy supply problem once and for all) Recharging experts are a breed apart.
They are the true elite. In their rucksack they will have an adaptor that can function using any electrical system in the world. Their heads are packed with information about electrical standards in far-off countries with unpronouncable names. And they don't get phased if they end up in some place that has no standards at all. They'll just stick two wires into any source of electricity - it's terrifying just watching - will coil and twist wires, and then, provoking a sigh of relief, the red light will appear on the charger.
But whoever really wants to be king of the hill need to do no more than bring along a solar-powered charger.He will instantly become Mr. Popularity, with everyone trying to get into his good books. I can guarantee that all the girls will form a line outside his tent, clasping various batteries.
For some reason that is unknown to me, the use of solar chargers has not really been taken up by Hungarian hikers and mountaineers. This is possibly because they appear to work by magic, which baffles ordinary people, and are quite probably the work of the Devil. And there's also a chance that if all of us had solar chargers we'd have nothing more to say to each other. It would eliminate the ties that bind us together, almost the whole purpose of the trip; there'd no longer be a need for creative problem solving, and our lives would sink into a state of terminal boredom.
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