"Chet Bradley here, Jim will make his assault on Kings Peak from his Gem Lake camp. He must cross ten kilometers of above-treeline meadow and marsh to get to the base of King’s Peak. He must then become an alpinist and negotiate the boulder fields and cliffs that surround this highest peak in the Uintas."
Jim is grim from his days of high-altitude traveling and his muscles ache from climbing on and off Celeste so much. "I didn’t get out as much as I should have," he mumbles as he gets in his sleeping bag. He dreams of wrestling wilderness skirts.
He wakes up in deep darkness, half frozen and with a calf cramp so bad he screams. The dung stove has gone out. It is ten minutes before he can maneuver himself out of the tent and try to walk out the cramp in the frosty night air. The cramp finally fades, but his calf still has a deep ache. He is about to go back in the tent when he notices the moon -- it is surrounded with a faint luminescent ring.
"Control. I see a ring around the moon. Does this mean what I think it does?"
It takes a moment for the voice on the other end to wake up. "I’ll check," it says.
Jim goes in and tries to relight the dung heater. It seems the dung didn’t dry out enough to burn reliably. It starts again, but feebly.
"Jim, bad news," Control comes back. "Satellites show a Pacific storm is coming in stronger and more southerly than forecast. It could hit the Uintas hard."
Jim struggles out of the tent and looks around again. "This could get tricky. I’ve got a south wind here already."
"It’ll increase tonight and tomorrow, Jim."
"Tonight it will bring clouds. Tomorrow showers in the valleys. At this altitude it could bring snow. Then the wind will turn, and blow long and strong from the north ... bringing cold, heavy snow ... " Jim’s voice starts to slur with fatigue and drowsiness.
"That’s right, Jim," finishes Howard Rufkin, staff meteorologist. "And once started the storm could go on for days, or it could end in hours. The long-range satellite reports are inconclusive on the matter. The jetstream is unstable. If it stays over the Uintas, this is just the first of a series of autumn storms lined up over the Pacific ready to batter the mountains. If the jetstream moves, high pressure will build; the storms will go north or south and Uintas weather will clear."
"I’ve decided. I go now. Tomorrow will be the day." Jim is dog tired. He can feel his patience wearing thin. It is a hasty decision, and that nags him. "I’ll be making this part of the journey alone. Celeste will stay here with the tent."
As he assembles the few things he needs for this sprint on the summit, he thinks about Olson.
"Hah!" snorted Olson, "You only think you’re leaving class. The dentist’s office is a field trip for you." He was right. Lying there while the dentist worked over his smile, he was putting his patience training to good use.
The dentist trip Olson didn’t mind, but when Jim left for trips to the plastic surgeon, voice trainer, clothiers, trip planners, equipment planners, and business agents, he would just sigh. Finally with just a month to go he pulled Jim aside and said, "These are not patience training, they are distractions -- impatience training. These people will not tell you, so I will: What good are all these papers and clothes if you don’t survive? You have just 30 days, survival must be your first priority."
Now Jim can see why. His legs are shot. He’s eaten two thirds of his food, and because he is on enhancers already, recovery will be slow. He’s pushed too hard. He’s been impatient. Now he is in a vicious circle. He has to push harder to beat a storm that would have been a minor inconvenience if he were a thousand meters lower.
Jim sorts his equipment but he can’t keep his eyes open.
"Time?" he grunts.
"2:35" comes the reply.
"I need sleep. Wake me in two hours," Jim crawls back in once more.