A journalist observes life in the far north.
For dinner, I ate exquisitely-prepared tuna, halibut and duck at a swanky restaurant named Ginger. The Glacier Boys probably ate something requiring them to add hot water.
I am in a cozy hotel room with the heat set perfectly to my liking. The Glacier Boys slumber in a tent in down bags.
Traffic hums and sputters outside my window. I imagine the Glacier Boys hear perfect silence.
If the Denali weather report is accurate, the temperature at Camp 1 is about 0 degrees.
May peace be with the climbers.