Word: streaming
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...caught up. Then they stood and stared. I talked to them. They had no food, no dry clothes, no tent and only wet down sleeping bags which sap heat from cold bodies. They were defenseless, and worse, they were succumbing. I didn't think I could cross the stream alone even though it looked as though Adrian had. I wondered if I shouldn't set up the tent, get in the sleeping bag and bite through the plastic bag at my belt to get crackers and chocolate and try to save the two men along with myself. But how could...
...already given up and had sat down in the snow. The last stages of hypothermia were setting in, which meant they were already as good as gone. What chance would I have to make it through the night alone? It was highly likely I would die crossing the stream, but at least I would have tried to get out; I couldn't give up the way they had. At the same time one voice was telling me I was done for, another told me I wasn't. So I tried to cross...
...didn't go the logical, dangerous route. Instead I went for the deepest, slowest moving pool, made it to narrower braids of raging water. I then managed to throw my pack on a rock, which proved difficult but no more of an impasse than the stream had been once I realized that the rock was the last obstacle before solid land. The hardest part was over, or so I thought...
...useless. And the other couldn't bend enough to be of any use. Meanwhile I'd started to shiver uncontrollably--the first symptom of hypothermia. I jumped up and down trying to keep warm. I couldn't laugh, the irony was too bitter--I'd made it across the stream, but to what...
...weren't ready to help themselves, why should they waste any of their valuable energy on two immobile men. I like to think they would have helped me regardless. As it was I can probably be thankful I was alone and a girl and had made it across the stream...