Where the current pulled left, the water darkened. To my front and right, I could see slivers of light and air bubbles at the edges of the fishbowl’s rim. Water and air were being mixed and pushed downstream from the ledge. That must be where the real air is. At the surface.
Read More“You’re going to be alright,” I glanced down and whispered to a broken man struggling through an ice climbing nightmare. My eyes darted quickly between the Korean rescue worker helping to stabilize the opposite side of the stretcher, over my shoulder at the fifty feet of steep ice awaiting our descent, and back to the contorted face of the injured climber.
Read MoreThen there’s the one time I used duct tape, super glue, and butterfly sutures to close a friend's eyebrow that was split from the mid-line to the corner of his eye.
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