By Sebastian Copeland
Sebastian on an archeological dig: somewhere under there are two disgruntled kite skiers!
The day started in the manner which we have grown accustomed to in the last few–the last five, to be exact: howling winds, tent flapping, and some measure of discouragement. No breaking news there. This would make it day six of being pinned down inside the tent, sheltered from a nasty and persistent wind storm that has hurled snow drift at our thin nylon walls, and cranked up the decibels for what amounts to 126 uninterrupted hours! Aside from time lost, I had a growing concern: we were slowly being entombed by rising walls of snow drift! By now, our sixth day, they reached almost three feet to the leeway side. If someone were to have come upon our campsite, they might have thought that we had dug a hole to pitch our tent inside of it! This was certainly not threatening; it just meant that we would have a hell of a time digging ourselves out of it!