It had been ten hours of hiking and we found ourselves rounding a snowy crest in the starless night, well above the tree line. Below we could see Russet Lake, reflected dimly by the snow and as we scratched our heads, we wondered which direction around the frozen ice we needed to walk. Of course we didn't have a map.
All I wanted to do was lie down. I remember thinking about the Inuit and how the grandmothers would just go out into the snow and fall asleep. It was so tempting.
We began to circumnavigate the edge wondering where the others were but too absorbed in our own survival to stop and wait. There was no stopping and waiting involved. It was out of the question. Our cheeks and toes were frozen. It is a curious warmth that starts to happen with numbness.
Someone shouted. A person ahead had just tripped over a guy wire from the outhouse to the hut which was barely visible in the darkness. We had chosen the long way around the lake - happily, I fell into the hut in an exhausted heap. I could see bunk-lined walls as someone started a dehydrated soup on a propane stove. We realized we had half the dinner and the rest of the food was with the missing members.
Where were they? They would die of hypothermia out there. A search party was sent out. One of us rifled through packs for flares.The clouds lit up as one glowing orange light was shot up into the stormy night after another.
