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High Desert MTBer
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Journal Entry. August 27 1857.

I am writing this using Thompson's blood, since our own ink dried some time ago. It is wonderfully slick, and glides over the page like a satin undergarment slipping down the hot flesh of... Enough of such musings! It has been so long since we saw any of the fairer sex now, one is prone to meanderings.

After Thompson provided us with the necessary nourishment to continue, with not a little pep to our step I might add, we quickly caught up with the porters, who were scarce able to resist us. The encounter was swift and decisive, and we were soon availed of enough dried meat to continue our quest.
Dalby is but a spit away, and I pray the conditions are conducive to the satisfaction of our need. Should this not be the case, I fear our quest will have been in vain, and our return to civilization a forlorn hope.
Pray for us, and pray we might unearth some vegetables soon, since all this long pork is giving me a dreadfully gyppy tummy such as I have not had since forced to eat school food in St Witherings all those summers ago.
 

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High Desert MTBer
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Journal Entry. August 28 1857.

It is little short of a miracle! We all bedded down for the night last night, and when we awoke this morning, we found ourselves actually in the fabled realm of DALBY!
Some Great Hand of God seems to have miraculously transported us directly into the Forest, and conditions, at least in this part, seem favorable. Perhaps if I can find that map of the Whole Forest, we will be able to search out what we seek: The Elusive Red Route!
 
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