| Entry 1 | Somewhere over the South Dalton Sea |
Published:
Morning 0330.
This is it. The day I’ve been waiting for since undergrad at State. I’m finally getting into the field, for real this time.
Professor Lopez told me I needed more equipment training before the last two outings. “You’re not up to snuff, Delgado,” she’d say. She’s my advisor and I trust her judgment. It gave me time to beef up my Portuguese.
I packed, unpacked, and repacked my gear probably ten times on my bed. Everything for a six-month expedition in a backpack and pelican case: four pairs of quick dry socks, two pairs of thick socks, two pairs of long underwear, four pairs of boxers, four quick dry t-shirts, two pullovers, one winter-weight balaclava, one medium-weight raincoat, two watch caps, one spare pair of Native sunglasses, one pair of medium-weight gloves, one pair of winter-weight gloves, two pairs of work gloves, one toughbook with spare battery and charger cord, one standard devolted oscilloscope, two heavy-duty Klein patch modules, 20 silver black-liner cables (assorted lengths), the Journey Baryllisman Guide (ed. 2007), one high-polarity carbonalturer, two books of matches (in plastic bags), one 9mm Glock, two boxes of 9mm ammunition.
Other equipment, including my Brockman harpoon gun, is already at the site. The pilot the University contracts went through my gear and checked through his list. He noted: nothing new, nothing missing.
It was a rocky takeoff due to the low-pressure system still churning about 20 klicks south-southeast in the Bay. The storm front delayed our takeoff by two hours, but the University gave some money to our contractors to pay off the airfield crew for the extra time.
All I can hear now is the dull roar of the aircraft engine through my apparently inadequate earplugs. My colleagues, Jacky Nelson and CJ Lee, are already asleep. Jacky has done two expeditions already. She’s the rockstar of the department. She’ll be faculty at Harvard or somewhere in less than five years. CJ had some kind of accident in his first expedition. Neither he nor the University will talk about it, but he’s fast asleep now so whatever happened can’t be keeping him up at night.
Me, I’ve been on heavy cargo or transport planes like this loads of times before, pre-grad school. I never could sleep on them. The uncertainty of what’s to come, combined with the hard furniture and engine noise, all make it hard to nod off. The stakes are definitely different this time though.
I’ve timed my matcha consumption so it lasts me until we start descending. The University told me they have matcha rations at base camp, but Jacky said sometimes those reassurances aren’t exactly promises. My fiancee Maria Francesca got me into matcha after I came back home. Now I don’t know if I can live without it. That’s not true. I can adapt to any environment. I’m Pierre Delgado. Jean-Luc and Alexandra Delgado didn’t raise a glue pot.
I’m looking forward to collecting some stimulus exopilis in the wild. It’s, of course, a key component of the energy source for the half-stilted phorometer I’m designing as part of my dissertation research. It’s just a small part of Professor Lopez’s newest model, but she tells me having a way to reduce the polar defabrication by even .09gt would flatten the malapy curve enough to prolong the machine’s output by at least a day before having to initiate a weeklong cooling cycle.
I can’t think about the big picture right now. It’s one foot in front of the other right now, Pierre. Don’t think about Professor Lopez’s newest model. Don’t think about how you’ll find stimulus exopilis or drastophus blinnium, and definitely don’t think about the lupus dragonicus possibly harvesting them to feed their kids.
One last sip of matcha. The copilot poked his head into the room and woke up CJ and Jacky. Get ready to land. There’s a storm over Mavis Island, so strap in tight.
I don’t know when I’ll have internet to upload this, but if you’re reading, I love you, Maria Francesca. I’m going to get the job done and come home in one piece. Thank you for believing in me and my research.
Signing off, it’s a minute before 1645. Enjoy what I’ve been rocking out to below, from OK Go.
All glory to the University.
Pierre Delgado
Just when you think you’re in control
Just when you think you’ve got a hold
Just when you get on a roll
Here it goes, here it goes, here it goes again
Here it goes again
I should’ve known, should’ve known, should’ve known again
But here it goes again
Oh, oh, here it goes again