In 2002 our camp was hit by a large gale with sustained winds over 70 miles per hour and gusts even higher. At the height of the storm, two of our tents began to shred on their windward sides. For several hours we scrambled among the tents in raging winds to secure them and the gear inside. We managed to move between the tents by taking oblique angles to avoid walking directly into the teeth of the winds. On occasion, surprisingly large gusts came out of nowhere and threw all four of the crew to the ground simultaneously—nature’s way of telling us to be quadrupedal rather than bipedal.
