Rose Nectar
Sep 5, 2018 · 7 min read

July 18th, 9:00 A.M. — I give the mosquitoes inside the tent a furious battle before giving it up and settling down to attempt to locate Camp IX on the map, but I see nothing in this country I can absolutely point to and say that this place corresponds to a definite point on the map. In the foreground, I have the unbroken boreal forest closing in on me. Low featureless hills form the horizon in every direction. No knobs or high points invite the eye as points for…


