Cabin Fever!


illanthropist

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Day 75

Come late afternoon, with the smell of searing bear flesh and curing guts overwhelming my senses and clinging to every fibre of my clothes, steadfast that I could not spend another night trapped inside the trappers I started thinking about an escape plan.  However, not having the stamina for a long march and with sunset beckoning my options seemed limited.

So standing on the porch taking in the cold comfort of the stillness outside, interrupted only by the gentle falling snowflakes tickling my face, the rock face opposite towering over the barn looked as good a place as any to spend the night.  It was warm out, well as warm as one can hope for these days and the snow didn't look set to last, so it was decided, supper on the hill it is!

Soup and bedroll packed, with a sudden craving for a bread roll too, I grabbed a few logs and some faggots then set off on my merry way.

It felt great to be outside, bathing in the last light of day and the soothing scent from the crackling cedar fire whilst licking a little tomato soup from my beard but it wasn't to last, the skies started to look a little foreboding.

"It'll be reet!" I told myself, looking forward to an evening staring at the stars and the waxing moon, oh how wrong could I have been!  No-one has been so wrong about the weather since Michael Fish back in 1987!

After a couple of hours shuteye with the fire well stocked I awoke to the storm of the century, a Texan Chilli Fest couldn't have wind as strong as this was, no dimly lit sky to guide me to safety, it was so dark, so dark I couldn't see the end of my nose, I only knew it was still there because a frozen booger tore a whole in my mittens.

I started to shake violently, unsure if it was from the biting cold or the fear of my impending doom.

Couldn't see a way out alive much less, down off the cliffs and the oil lamp stretched out in front of me was about as much use as a travel guide from the Flat Earth Society.

So close yet so far from that stinking place I had been calling home I had no choice but to just keep going, all the while whispering to myself:

"Valor morghulis!"
"Valor morghulis!"

Then the barn sprang up before me, the building I'd been wanting to rip down for weeks was my saviour.  I found my bearings, I was gonna make it but those final steps proved to be the most difficult of all.  With both me and lantern now spent, the next marker I found were those of the graves outside my cabin.  It seemed kismet that the signs of someone else's demise might save me from mine.

Finally back in the place that was driving me to madness I had gone from cabin fever to burning up inside,  all I wanted to do with my last ounce of strength was to strip naked and climb into the locker unable to stand, unable to scream I clambered with all my being towards the bed.

And here I am now still as I write this, the smell of all those musty hides drying has never been so welcoming.  

If I ever do make it out of this nightmare you can be sure the Canadian Tourist Board shall receive a strongly worded letter indeed!

 

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