We were fogged in this morning so we couldn't fly. I had scrambled to pack my bags, tear down the wet tent, roll up the sleeping pad (I was sad to see my platform of comfort go), and then the bags just sat there. That's OK, it gave Ian and I a chance to go up on the hill one last time to say goodbye to the crew.
Ines had taken over my little corner - Unit 8. She was burrowing down in the southwest quadrant and had a big smile as always. Craig, the public affairs guy, had put away his camera and was screening soil for the diggers. No major discoveries so far this morning but the team toils on. We wished them well and headed back to camp.
On the way down I noticed that the leaves on the brush had already started to turn red. Just in the 10 days I was in camp we saw the fall colors start to arrive. I bet it's beautiful here in September when the fish turn fire-engine red to match the foliage! Down at the gravel bar the helicopter still sat silent in the haunting fog. I wondered about the beast which lurked beyond - bears, musk ox, caribou and more.
I stopped to skip the last few rocks on that perfect, still mirror of a pond. Looking into the clear water, I could see among the green coated rocks at the bottom several gray ones - all flat and round - surely stones I had skipped throughout the expedition. Some I could reach and gave them another ride across the surface. You may not believe this, but I think I set a new personal record for most skips. I lost count around 14 or 15. It can be a little hard to count the tiny skips at the end of a stone's glide across the water. I had no independent verification, but I know it was a blissful toss.
Back in camp, Ian and I made sandwiches for the trip home and then Bill taught me some of the steps from his martial arts warm-up - 18 Lohan. After doing that you feel invigorated. I think he should lead everyone in doing those exercises each morning!
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