Читать книгу Delta G - David J. Crawford - Страница 9

The next morning Dave had breakfast at the Air Base dining hall with Brad Johnson, the Chief Engineer for the contractor running the DYE sites. He drove them over to Base Operations hangar. It was a balmy 28°F this morning. On the ramp were two C-130 Hercules cargo planes. These four engine turboprops were the workhorses of the Air Force. These planes belonged to the 109th ANG Squadron based in Schenectady, New York. They were proudly known as the Raven Squadron and nicknamed the Firebirds. These Hercules were part of a select few that were outfitted specifically for operations on the ice. They were fitted with several million dollars worth of retractable Teflon coated skis that allowed them to operate on both paved runways and the icecap. The nose ski was ten feet long by six feet wide, while the main skis were twenty feet long by six feet wide. Each ski weighed approximately a ton.

The 109th is the only military unit in the world that flies ski-equipped C-130s. These cargo planes can carry 30,000 pounds for over 500 miles at 275 mph.

The Greenland icecap is a foreboding place. It is a dome of ice twice the area of Texas. The ice is about 11,000 feet thick at the center of the world’s largest island. It is completely ringed with mountains with hundreds of fjords and glaciers making their way through them out to the Atlantic Ocean on the east coast and Baffin Bay on the west coast. The weight of the ice actually suppresses the bedrock to below sea level.

Dave took time to read an article posted on the bulletin board concerning the icecap. He found the facts and figures fascinating:

 The Greenland icecap contains one eighth of the total global ice mass. The total ice mass on Earth is 125 million cubic miles; Antarctica has 112 million cubic miles; Greenland 11.5 million cubic miles.

 The average height of the Greenland icecap is 7,000 feet above sea level with 65 percent of the area above 6500 feet. That is why Greenland deserves the name of most extreme highland in the world.

 Lowest recorded temperature: -94º F (1953 Station Northice). Mean annual temperature: -22º F: So the Greenland icecap is without any doubt the coldest place in the northern hemisphere, even colder than the North Pole.

 Because the snow surface reflects most of the sunlight, the temperature is lowest near the snow and increases in upper air levels. This is an exceptional situation because usually temperature decreases in higher air levels. The dome structure of the icecap causes cold air to flow constantly to lower areas at the edges. So, crossing the icecap, you will always experience head wind until the top of the icecap and then backwind.

 Above the seas around Greenland, the air is less cold and thus creates a substantial difference in temperature and air pressure between the coast and the inland. This can cause terrible storms.

 At present the maximum thickness of the icecap is 10,500 to 11,000 feet. If the entire icecap should melt (which is extremely unlikely), the sea surface worldwide would rise 20 to 25 feet!

The planes were being prepared and loaded with the supplies and ice drilling equipment. Timken and Rapp were working with the crew chiefs to get them loaded properly. He was met at Base Ops by Major Rick Boop. Dave gave Major Boop a crisp salute. Boop returned it and welcomed him to the Ravens’ Nest.

Boop grinned a big smile and said with a southern drawl, “Good morning, I’m the mission commander for your flight out to DYE-3 this morning. Kid, you’re in for the ride of your life. People would fork over a year’s pay to do what you are about to do. Not many people have been to where you’re about to go. DYE-3 does exist. Unlike Dreamland it can be found on any air chart. Its coordinates are 65 degrees, 10 minutes, 57 seconds north latitude by 43 degrees, 49 minutes, 10 seconds, west longitude. Its code name is Sob Story. Don’t know why. To this day, the history behind this name is lost. Might have been some random string of names put together by some computer in the basement of the Pentagon. Anyway, it is 250 miles inland at an elevation of nearly 9,000 feet above sea level.”

Boop continued with the mission brief and gave Dave a Flight Safety briefing. He familiarized him with aircraft safety features, systems, and what to do in the event of an emergency or crash landing. Since Dave was scheduled for his arctic survival training in a few weeks, he took the discussion very seriously. The temperature at DYE-3 was 26 degrees below zero. This was relatively warm. It could get down to 50 below. It gets cold enough to turn jet fuel into slush. As a matter of fact aircraft engines are never turned off on the icecap. Chances are you’d never get it restarted.

After climbing aboard the C-130 he was led up a short flight of stairs into the flight deck where he buckled into the jump seat behind the pilot. The crew buckled in and ran their pre-departure checklist. Clearance to taxi was given and the huge transport rolled out onto the taxiway. The jagged fjord cliffs dove into the waters of the fjord. Surprisingly, the fjord wasn’t the deep calm blue envisioned from a Norwegian postcard. It was brown and flowing turbulently and full of silt. It was about a mile wide at Sonde Stromfjord. Melt water from the icecap and glacier a few miles up the fjord was making its way the ninety miles back out to Baffin Bay.

The C-130 taxied onto the runway. It was given a hold while a Greenland Air Helicopter taxied across the other end of the runway to the Scandinavian Air Service (SAS) terminal. Takeoff clearance was granted and the huge cargo plane’s four turbo props spun up to full speed. The variable pitch propellers were tilted forward and started biting into the cold arctic air. The plane accelerated down the strange, saddle humped runway towards the west. As it climbed up and out of the fjord it made a steep bank for a full U-turn back to the east. The view from a C-130 cockpit is panoramic. The full view of Sonde filled the windows. There was actually some green in Greenland. The end of the fjord was now in view were the glacier sloped down from the icecap. A huge ripple was seen were the ice was calving off the glacier face as the plane soared over the edge and out over the icecap. The icecap at the coast is only a few hundred feet thick. It gradually ramps upward to over two miles thick a few hundred miles inland.

DYE-3 is about 250 miles to the east slightly below the Arctic Circle. Amazingly, navigation in this state of the art Air Force beast was on the crude side. Although it used an Inertial Navigation system to get them near the site, approaches and landings were visual. No navigation aids existed at the DYE sites. To give them an edge in times of low visibility, Major Boop was going to practice shooting a total radar approach. He explained the procedure to Dave, “DYE-3 is literally the only metal structure within hundreds of miles. Once we get closer, it will ping very nicely on the plane’s Navigation Radar (NAVRAD). We will also use a radar altimeter to find our way to the station.”

Major Boop continued, “This radar has extremely high resolution. As we get closer to the site at about four miles out we will be able to distinguish even the metal flag poles spaced every seventy-five feet apart along both sides of the skiway.”

As the plane soared over the glaciers, Boop clicked the microphone. “We’re coming up over the pressure ridges. The crevasses you see are up to a thousand feet deep. They’d swallow this plane whole if we lost power now. The glacier would grind us up and spit us out in about a thousand years. By the way, are they giving you hazardous duty pay, Dave?”

To this Dave laughed, “Hell, no. They even argued about giving me a flight suit and parka back in Colorado.”

Boop said, “You’ve got my sympathy, my friend. But they did have you prepare a will and power of attorney, right?”

Dave asked nervously, “You know something I don’t?”

“No, I just have the bureaucracy figured out,” Boop replied dryly.

The mighty C-130 droned on for the next two hours. Dave was mesmerized by the white desert-like scene below him. They were flying at 18,000 feet and Dave could still see huge drifts of snow and some shadows from a few clouds. The clouds were getting a little thicker the further they flew.

Major Boop hit the intercom, “Carl, these clouds are getting thicker. They are at about 13,000 feet. There is little danger of icing. They are relatively dry stratus. However, this isn’t going to be a visual approach.” The copilot responded “Roger that. I’ll set us up for a radar-assisted approach. Just then a radio call came in, “Raven One, Raven One…..Sob Story, do you copy?” The copilot responded, “Roger, Sob Story. Raven One’s with you,….four fiver miles west,…..inbound,…..descending through 16,000.” DYE-3 responded, “Roger, Raven One, I have you on the scope. Be advised winds are three four zero at one zero. Ceiling is about 2,000, visibility is 3 miles. Marginal VFR. Cleared to land at pilot’s discretion.” Rick handled this call. He was pilot in command, “Roger, Sob Story, Raven One is making a straight in approach using NAVRAD assist.” DYE-3 replied back, “Roger, Raven One, the flag poles are deployed. Will advise of winds and visibility.” Boop responded, “Roger, winds no factor. Will call you on the ground.”

With that, the plane was set up for a landing. The NAVRAD scope clearly showed the site now on the thirty mile band. The plane descended into the stratus layer. Boop turned to Dave and said, “This is why we get the big bucks and get to wear these nice flight suits.” The windscreen turned milky white and he had flashbacks to his first chopper flight back at Little Rock. But he kept his cool. The copilot started calling off the pre-landing checklist. The flaps were lowered, the throttle adjusted, and the nose tilted downward. The NAVRAD scope was now pinging the DYE site clearly. They were six miles out and 2,500 feet above ground level (AGL). There was still no visibility. The poles along the skiway started to light up on the scope at five miles out. Dave was amazed. The scope truly did look like follow the dots with a V-shaped taper towards the top. At three miles and 1,500 feet AGL the plane broke through the stratus. What he saw in front of him was a magnificent black mega structure sitting on eight massive columns with what looked like the world’s biggest golf ball sitting on top.

The plane slid in for a landing smoother than snot on a glass doorknob.

Boop turned to Dave and said, “Welcome to Hoth on Earth.” Dave smiled and nodded. He got the joke. This was a clear reference to the ice planet in The Empire Strikes Back movie.

The plane taxied back to the ice apron adjacent to the massive complex. Boop hit the intercom again, “Everyone, it is twenty five below zero outside. Bundle up. The wind chill factor will be fifty below in the prop wash.”

Sergeant Dylan Sheppard lowered the ramp. Dave was surprised to see a tracked vehicle pushing a large sled up to the aircraft for off loading the drilling pipe and equipment. Carl opened the aft side crew door and lowered the stairs. Dave pulled his parka hood up over his head and put on his fur lined gloves. He didn’t bother to take his fur-lined, sealskin boots, or mukluks, as they were called up here, out of his crew bag. After all he was only going to walk a hundred feet to the complex. Major Boop climbed down the ladder followed by Dave.

Sheridan felt the prop wash blast against his body. It was a challenge to stay up right. They walked over to the stairway and were met by the Site Commander, Vince Beach. They shook hands but it was very difficult to carry on a conversation with the props running. Vince led the way up the two flights of stairs and into the site. Dave’s eyeglasses fogged up immediately with a thick layer of ice as he hit the warm air of the entrance way. He pulled off his glasses to see. Vince welcomed him and Major Boop to DYE-3 and had them sign in on the site log. Vince then led them through a series of hallways into the dining room for a cup of coffee. He introduced him to the site’s chef, Olga. She shook his hand and then gasped, “Captain, do you know that your ears are bleeding?” He reached up to feel a smear of warm blood on his ear lobes. However, it wasn’t his ears that were bleeding. It was his temples. Apparently when he stared into the prop wash, his metal frame glasses froze to his skin. When he removed the glasses because they fogged up, he also unknowingly removed several layers of skin. He thought to himself, what a way to make a grand entrance by bloodying up the kitchen.

Dave soon found out the coffee in Greenland really gives you a jolt. It is a little thicker than back in the States. After Olga helped put on a couple of bandages, he downed his second cup and devoured a phenomenal real Danish pastry. Then Vince gave him a tour of the complex.

“Most of the chefs up here in the Arctic are the best of the best. They come out of the Merchant Marine. The military had learned a long time ago that in order to keep the moral high and the troops happy they didn’t skimp on the meals. The typical daily caloric input up here in the Arctic is over 5,000 a day and it’s not just all sugar. It’s full of good protein with plenty of meat and potatoes. Keep in mind those extra calories might keep you alive for a few more hours if you go down on the icecap. Too bad you’re really screwed if you go down in the water.”

“We have enough food on site to last us sixty days. Water is no problem. I’ll show you our drag line and snow harvesting operation in a little bit.” He showed him the huge freezers and warehouse pantry. “The first floor consists of warehouse space, receiving, and our power plant with six huge, 12 cylinder White Superior diesel generators.” Vince remarked, “We need three running at one time to supply site power. We have two in standby mode and one down for overhaul at all times. It takes the Ravens six weeks of round the clock flying to supply our diesel fuel requirements for the year. They make about two hundred flights out here from Sonde in a six week period and off load over a half million gallons.”

They next climbed a flight of stairs to the lateral tropospheric communications room. Vince explained that radio waves are bounced off the troposphere to adjacent sites. This allows for over the horizon radio communications versus line of sight VHF. It is also very difficult to jam. Half of this floor was a gymnasium with a weight room. “We have to have some place to work off all that pastry.” In the back corner was a varnished plywood wall with a door that said “BAR.” “We also have to have a place to drown our sorrows.”

Next, Vince showed Dave the third floor living quarters. There were a dozen or so rooms arranged on the outside perimeter of this floor. The walls were a good three feet thick and were highly insulated. Each room had a window, more for fire escape than for view. This floor also housed the radar console room in the center of the complex. Vince explained the radar system to him, “We use the FPS-30. With the FPS-30, you could throw an orange into the air thirty miles out and we would see it.” Dave asked what the range was. Vince answered, “The actual range is classified, but it is over 250 miles. We have overlap with each of our adjacent sites.” Vince punched four digits on a cipher lock and opened the door to the radar room. “This is the heart and soul of our complex. This is our console room, ops center, and communications center. It is manned 24/7. If you need to take a leak there is always someone on standby to cover for you.” The room wasn’t all that large. It had two scopes side by side, a low altitude scope and a high altitude scope. “There are sixteen permanent party members on-site. We have twenty one with you and the drilling crew. We operate with three RadTechs, two ComTechs, a chief mechanic and two apprentices, an electrician, a laborer, a janitor, a chef, and two dozer operators that constantly plow snow away from the site and keep our skiway smooth for aircraft operations. Then there is myself and a LogTech.”

Vince introduced Dave to Jim Ewing. “Jim has been on the line for nearly six years without getting burned out. They all make good money up here and really have no place to spend it. Unlike many of the guys stationed up here, Jim doesn’t have an ex-wife down south to worry about. He just keeps banking it away.” Jim shook his hand and pointed his thumb at Vince. “Talk about your money bags. The reason we have a twenty million dollars worth of com gear on this site is so Vince can talk to his broker every day.”

Just then the radio speaker crackled to life, “Sob Story, Sob Story...this is Raven Two over.” Jim keyed his hand set and replied, “Raven Two, Sob Story is with you.” “Roger, Sob Story...We are at 15,000 and descending…Please give us a weather and radar check.” “Roger, Raven Two, I have you one two zero miles, bearing two eight zero. Weather is as follows, outside air temp (OAT) at minus two fiver degrees Fahrenheit, winds three six zero at ten, visibility three miles, ceiling two thousand and overcast with marginal VFR. Be advised Raven One is on the Apron taxiing out. ETD fifteen minutes.”

Raven Two acknowledged the information. Vince said, “Raven two is the load of drilling gear along with Dr. Rapp and Dr. Timken. We have a half an hour to finish up your tour before I have to head back outside to greet them and supervise the offloading.”

Vince took Dave up another twisting flight of stairs. He could feel the altitude getting to him now. He was huffing and puffing. “It’ll take you a couple of days to get acclimated to the altitude. Remember, DYE-3 is nearly two miles above sea level.”

They exited the stair shaft and were on the third floor. Here there were several rooms dedicated to the station chief, and any VIP visitors. “Here is your room, Captain.” Vince opened the door and Dave was pleasantly surprised to see a large room with a queen size bed, dressers, couch, chair, coffee table, and TV, all the comforts of home. “I’ll have Sven bring up your bags in a little bit. We can’t go up into the Radome with the antenna hot and spinning. It would fry your gonads in a fraction of a second. My room is at the end of the hall. Dr. Rapp and Dr. Timken have the other two rooms. We’ll go down to my office real quick and I’ll give you a visitors’ safety briefing on what to do in case of fire, medical emergencies, communications procedures, and all that good stuff.”

The PA system echoed off the halls, “Raven One off the ice and out bound to Sonde. Raven Two inbound…ETA ten minutes.” With this much going on at the site, Vince had air traffic calls put on the PA to keep everyone informed what was happening.

After the visitors’ brief, Vince said, “I’ve got to bundle up and head back outside. You can wait in the dining room or you’re welcome to join me. Your choice.” Dave was no fool. “Until I get acclimated and my temples stop bleeding, I think I’ll wait inside. I’d like to wait in the console room if that’s okay with you. Besides my mukluks are in my luggage out there somewhere.” Jim said, “That’s fine. Just announce yourself to Jim on the portal phone outside the door. You’re cleared for access to all areas of the site. But just a word of wisdom, never let that arctic survival gear bag out of your control. Never know when you will need it.”

The PA system came to life once more, “Attention on-site, attention on-site…Raven Two, Raven Two on the ice. Taxiing to the drill site.” Jim told him it would take about forty minutes to offload the piping and drilling equipment. He showed him every knob, switch, and dial in the console room. He even showed him how he was tracking a couple of commercial flights out of Europe doing the great circle route over Greenland on their way to Detroit and Toronto. Dave’s cover story was to be the Air Force Contracting Officers Technical Representative, COTR for the Space Command modifications. He was the on-site inspector. Sort of like the IG. No wonder everyone was treating him like royalty here and he was getting the VIP room.

Jim asked him about the Space Command site upgrades that he would be overseeing to support the Space Shuttle polar orbit launches out of Vandenberg AFB in California. Dave smiled, “Well, if I tell you, I’d have to shoot you.” Jim smiled and said, “Well, I’ll bet you my gun is bigger than your gun. We have two old M-1 carbine rifles in the cabinet over there. I don’t think they’ve ever been fired in over twenty years. Do bullets have a shelf life?” Dave laughed, “Don’t know. What do you suppose they have them up here for? Hold off being overrun by the Russians, put down a mutiny, take out a few polar bears, and protect the site from space aliens?” Jim replied, “Might be some element of truth in all the above.” Dave gave him a disbelieving look, “You mean they’re here to protect you from little green men?” Jim laughed, “Hell, no, I’m talking about the polar bears. We do get them every once in a while up here. Even though we’re over a hundred miles from the east coast, they do come out here. And when they get here, they are very hungry, and mean as hell. I’ll continue with your site safety training. Anyone working outdoors is issued a bear cracker. And, no, it isn’t something to eat. It is a quarter stick of dynamite. You light it like a flare and then toss it at a bear to scare it away. However, they don’t work very well. All that happens is that a bunch of other bears hear the noise and figure out that there must be food this way.”

Just then the handheld radio came to life, “Jim, this is Vince. Our good professors request the presence of our VIP. I’ve had his arctic gear delivered to his room. Could you run him down and have him suited up? I’ll have Jorgen waiting for him with a snowcat at the bottom of the stairs.” Jim replied, “Roger, Captain Sheridan is in the console room with me. He copies.”

Jim gave Dave some pointers on how to bundle up and cover exposed skin. He then went to his room and opened the arctic survival gear duffle bag and put on long johns, fatigues, iron pants, two pair of thermal socks, a parka, and a pair of deerskin gloves. He pulled on his mukluks which were genuine seal skin. Nothing was ever found that could substitute for a good pair of mukluks. He then put on his ski mask, glasses and goggles.

Dave stopped by the console room on his way out. Jim gave him a status check to make sure he was properly suited up for a trek on the icecap. The extra pounds he was wearing were taking a toll as he exited the complex and climbed down the stairs and headed towards the snowcat. Jorgen saw him descend and opened the door for him as he climbed up into the cab. In a thick Danish accent, Jorgen welcomed him to DYE-3 and told him to sit back and enjoy the ride over to the ice drilling camp. They could barely see the tail of a C-130 off on the horizon. “Why are they so far out?” Jorgen replied, “For a couple of reasons. Their gravimetric instrumentation is very sensitive. They need to get clear of the DYE site vibrations and structural steel. They are also located in a radar beam side lobe gap. They aren’t constantly bombarded every sixty seconds with umpteen thousand watts of radar energy. The camp is about five miles out. They are far enough away to be clear of the site and close enough for logistics support and emergencies. We will be there in about ten minutes. Captain, help yourself to some hot coffee from the thermos there. It is always good to warm up the gut if you can before you venture out onto the ice.”

“Sounds like good advice.” He poured himself a cup of thick Danish coffee and sipped it down. He was beginning to wonder if the Air Force had a caffeine addiction program. He could see he was going to have to learn to like this stuff.

About halfway there, they could see that the C-130 was beginning to taxi towards them.

“They must be finished offloading the drilling supplies. They will taxi the five miles back to the DYE-3 site and use the skiway to take off. It is too bumpy out here for them to get enough air speed to attempt to lift off.” It was kind of strange to pass a C-130 coming at you, but Dave and Jorgen waved to the pilot as he passed off to the left on his way back to the skiway.

As the snowcat neared the drilling camp, they could see a few tents set up and a few large cargo containers strung together. Off to one end was a drilling derrick. Another snowcat was pulling a huge sled full of piping and crates towards the derrick. Jorgen pulled the snowcat up to the cargo container and got on the handheld. The handheld was a small radio which had a thirty mile range that was line of sight limited. “Vince, this is Jorgen. We are outside now.”

“Roger, we’ll be out in a minute.” Vince and Rapp exited the cargo container and opened the back door of the snowcat and climbed in. The snowcat had bench seating along both walls and had a couple of cable drums turned on their sides to use as desks and tables.

Rapp’s beard was already frosted over when he climbed in. “Welcome to the Apple Orchard, Captain.” Dave thought the code name for this camp was kind of funny. “Why is this place called the Apple Orchard?” Rapp smiled and said, “In deference to Sir Isaac Newton and his falling apple that revolutionized the world of physics. We are about to change the world here, too.”

Rapp pulled a PVC tube from the wall of the snowcat and pulled out a set of drawings. He rolled them out on the table. “This is one of six camps located up here. We are spread out in a pentagon pattern of about four miles apart with the sixth located in the center. We are drilling eight inch diameter holes through the ice down to within five hundred feet of the bedrock nearly two kilometers below us. We are looking for several things. First, any signs of torsional waves. Second, any signs of gravitational waves. These are much harder to detect due to their long wavelengths, and then, lastly, for any variances in the Universal Gravitational Constant, alias the big G, that we explained to you in Sonde.”

Vince told Jorgen to head for the drilling rig. The snowcat lurched forward. When they reached the rig, Vince and Rapp leapt out the back as Dave crawled out of the cab and was surprised at how warm it felt outside. The sun was bright and there was no wind. The snow was crisp and powdery dry under his feet. He followed Rapp and Vince into the canvas covered derrick. Inside was a tripod frame about fifty feet tall with chain hoists and rigging. Several pieces of pipe were stacked vertically along one side of the frame. Timken and another man were bending over the generator on the backside of the rig. Dave couldn’t quite make out the discussion, but it was pretty intense and sounded like a few Russian expletives were thrown in for good measure.

“Dostal, dostal. Dis a pizdet. Da balvin.” Just then Timken turned and saw Dave, Vince, and Rapp. He threw up his hands in disgust and exited the tent. “What’s wrong with him?” Dave asked. Rapp replied, “He is pissed off at Boris here, because he let the fuel run out in the generator while he was off loading the C-130. They can’t get it restarted. The battery is nearly drained.” Dave looked over at the generator. He wasn’t a mechanical engineer, but he grew up in northwest Ohio and knew how to jump start a clunker to get her started on a winter morning. He asked if the snowcat had a set of jumper cables. He was surprised to hear from all the men standing around him, “What are they?” He thought to himself, “You’ve got to be kidding. All these PhDs oozing with brain power and they didn’t know how to jump start an engine.” They were actually contemplating having a new battery flown in from Sonde.

“Okay, gentlemen, this is what we’re going to do. This is a standard twelve volt marine battery. Have Jorgen open up the hood or whatever you call it on the snowcat.” He found an extension cord plugged into one of the flood lights. Just like his dad had taught him, he always carried a pocket knife on him. This time he had to dig through three layers as he had left it in his fatigue pants pocket under his iron pants. He cut off the ends and then peeled back the insulation a couple of inches, exposing the copper wire. Jorgen had lifted the cab over the diesel engine. Luckily Dave spotted a couple of C-clamps in the top tray of a tool box. He grabbed them and walked out to the snowcat. He clamped a wire to the positive terminal and then walked back into the derrick shelter. He clamped the other end of the cable to the positive terminal of the generator battery. He walked back outside and clamped the other wire to the negative terminal on the snowcat. He then walked back in and looped the leftover cable around the generator frame for a ground. Just then Timken re-entered the tent. “Are you sure you know what you are doing, Captain? This is some delicate machinery.” Dave was a little annoyed at this point, “Delicate my ass, this is a standard 60 kilowatt, 240 volt, three phase Cummins generator set. This ain’t rocket science. I should know. Okay, crank her over. She should start up.” Boris turned the lever and sure enough the generator cranked over and sputtered to life. He let it idle a minute or so and then threw another switch. Presto!! The lights came on. He figured he’d earned his pay with this little piece of technical knowhow. Obviously, this crowd had never had to jump start a ‘65 Mercury in a dark parking lot at ten below before. Piece of cake.