Journal Entry, March 29th
It is 2:30 a.m. The temperature outside the canvas wall of the rooftent is 50 degrees below zero Fahrenheit.
I retreat deeper into my sleeping bag, drawing my arms across my chest. I’m drifting between restless sleep and half-awake shivering; the slightest movement sucks frigid drafts around my face and neck, causing me to cough, lungs rebelling against air cold enough to injure them.
I am startled to alertness by what at first feels like a strong earth tremor, or a furious blast of wind. The truck and tent are shaking. Finally I realize that Pasquale, in the bag next to me, is shivering violently, interspersed with bouts of deep coughing.
“Pasquale! Are you okay?” I ask. He responds through chattering teeth, “I split out the zipper in my bag, and I can’t feel my legs.”
Fully awake now, I immediately yell to Chris, sleeping in the other tent mounted on the trailer. “Chris, get up! We need to get out ofhere, now!”
Story originally published in Overland Journal