...The look of apprehension on young Henry's face tells much of the tale. Elmo put on a brave front, but even the ever present positive vibes that emanate from the furry red gem could not dispel the facts as they emerged.
Our pleasant jaunt was beginning to turn into a nightmare.
You must understand the sub-Antarctic tendencies of Mount Wellington. As if aware of our insolence, the mountain struck back.
The fact that we set out on a fine and clear day mattered not a jot. Nor, it seems, did the fact that we sit smack bang at the height of our summer.
No, these "facts" (and how I spit out that word here today), were of no consequence to the mountain, nor the gods of nature themselves. For, as ye shall see below, nature had one of her brutal ripostes up her sleeve.
To be continued...