always work. Too often lines piled up one on the other and legibility suffered.
****
Log Book:
The sea was only a respite. Fog has followed us since. We are above it now. A night of stars. North the horizon is clear cut. To the south it is a smudge.
The exhausts send out glowing meteors.
How marvellous is a machine and the mind that made it. I am thoroughly occidental in this worship.
Bill sits up alone. Every muscle and nerve alert. Many hours to go. Marvellous also. I've driven all day and all night and know what staying alert means.
We have to climb to get over fog and roughness.
Bill gives her all she has. 5000 ft. Golly how we climb. A mountain of fog. The north star on our wing tip.
My watch says 3:15. I can see dawn to the left and still a sea of fog. We are 6000 ft. high and more. Can't read dial.
Slim and I exchange places for a while. All187
