The Last Supper

On each of my expeditions, I experience emotional turmoil on my last evening in camp. While it affords me the opportunity to reflect on accomplishment and experiences, it signals impending travel through the gate to another domain: civilization. There is something about woodfire cooking, pleasant comrades, and hot meals that ease that pain. Watching Don Wilson practice the art of cooking over wood and traveling out of his element (snow, as opposed to desert) was immensely rewarding to me.