If I say that the atmosphere in the base camp this morning was icy, in every respect of the word, then I describe the situation precisely. In the barracks heating is supposed to be provided by a wood-burning stove. Maybe the weather is too cold, but the stove isn't working well; perhaps I just don't know how to operate it, but I seem to have to feed it every 2hrs. But I always sleep at night, not worrying about the wood, and, consequently, by dawn it is pretty cold.
I think that Bob might be feeling that he's gone a bit too far. He is trying to get pally with me, offering me beer, but this is one of those few occasions where I'm not in a friendly mood. I deliberately avoid breakfast, which shows how serious the situation is. I don't even leave my cabin; I tell them to call me when it's time to leave. The plane to Anchorage will take off from Aniak at 12.00am, so I have to be there by then. Just after 10.00am, I leave this place, with its unhappy memories, in complete silence, with no farewells; no-one comes to say goodbye, which doesn't bother me at all.
At Aniak I am surprised to find that Pen-Air is not going to charge me extra for changing my ticket to an earlier date. There are empty seats on the plane, so why shouldn't I get on it? So says their representative at the desk, and I'm not going to object.
I've had to fly a lot during my American trip. I have flown on just about every type of plane. Some small; some even smaller; some large, and some enormous. Not counting my helicopter trips in Alaska, the journey from Aniak to Anchorage is my 29th flight, and there's still a long time before my trip ends.
I've developed a technique for overcoming the boredom of flying: immediately after take-off I fall asleep. I can't remember where, but somewhere I bought a box of earplugs. They are very useful as I occasionally have to sleep in places that are not particularly quiet at night. I use them on planes as well, as I don't like the noise of the engines and the ventilation system. After take-off I
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just put them in, lean back, and fall asleep at once. I seem to spend at least half my time flying, fast asleep.
I've flown a lot before, as well, and, if I've learnt anything, it is that planes are always late.
I don't see why they have timetables, as no plane ever keeps to them. Some are just 5mins. late, some 15, but every flight has some delay. It would be a good idea to add 10mins. to the flying time of every plane in the world, and then, maybe, they'd all arrive on time. This is why all the passengers on this flight are stunned to hear that the 1hr.30mins. journey will, in fact, only be 1hr.10mins. Some whoop in appreciation, but I join in with those who clap. Not long after 1.00pm I'm in a taxi on my way to the Hilton.
All my arrivals at this hotel have been fairly memorable.
My stubble is almost ten days old, and I've been wearing my clothes for exactly the same time.
There is a thick layer of dirt on the sleeves of my jacket, the one that was lost, then found, in Montana, and dried bear blood on my camouflage trousers, all of which emphasises the fact that I have not just come from a smart dinner party. It would be hard to look inconspicuous among all the well-dressed guests. My favorite receptionist, the incredibly nice Yolanda, who understands and copes with all my complicated hotel arrangements, is at the desk and smiles at me as I approach. They had reserved Room 2162 for me, but thought I'd be arriving at a later date, and can't move the current occupants out. She suggests Room 2069, saying it has a good view of the mountains near Anchorage. I get all my stuff out of storage and go up to my room. It takes a long time to sort out all my clothes and send them off to the laundry. Meanwhile, I get an email from the hotel supervisor telling me that the clothes that had previously been lost, are now found.
However, on my last visit here I left some other clothes in the laundry and they now seem to have been lost. I'm a bit nervous about telling him this, fearing the Hilton management might start a mass purge of its employees. I'm here for a couple of days, so they'll either have time to find my clothes, or I'll go shopping at their expense.
We agree to that.
I let Cabela's know about my bad experiences, and they are completely surprised. Did Bob really behave like that? Yes, indeed he did. Nobody can understand it, and everyone is very sorry; particularly me.
I spend most of the afternoon in the jacuzzi and steam room. Interestingly, I seem to be the only person attracted to these facilities; I've never seen anybody else in them. I pop over to the nearby shopping mall, and then the Army/Navy Store, but, unusually, I don't buy anything.
From my window I have a good view of 4th Ave. Around midnight there are sounds of lively arties going on in the two bars, but I don't feel like going down.
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Room 2069
Expedition Headquarters
Anchorage Hilton