01/06/10 Rain pounds the tent, a loud, hypnotic thrumming. No wind accompanies this shower, so the hard and steady splatter of water against nylon is all I hear until a soft droning approaches from the south, barely audible above the rain. A bush pilot is trying to maneuver his way around, or through, this July Arctic storm. Good luck, I think. The last time I peeked out the tent, even the bases of the ...

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