Food helps. I take full credit for the mound of mashed potatoes in the middle of the table. Must have been something akin to driving fatigue, except with potatoes. I just kept peeling and peeling and before I knew it the entire stock pot was full. Oops.
The next day, all the girls ventured forth on four-wheelers.
We ended our journey at the Nenana River, where we stopped for a snack and a feeble attempt at fishing. We held onto said snacks for dear life, as the wind tends to blow a bit in our corner of the globe. By "a bit," I mean "screaming down the valley so fast that we were in danger of becoming human tumbleweeds." Fun anyway though, red noses and all.
Stay tuned. A fascinating discussion on the merits of face-first arctic fish calling is soon to come.
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