October 12, 1972

We leave for Chile today. The team is excited to get there and play some rugby. The guys are psyching themselves up. We all got together at the local pub last night to have some drinks and get rowdy and the night ended with us getting kicked out for throwing food and beer at each other.

October 12, 1972

The weather was too bad. We couldn't make the trip so we've stopped in Mendoza. Tomorrow we leave for our match in Chile. The Old Christians are gonna trounce Santiago.

October 13, 1972

Coming up on the Andes. The mountains are always beautiful. They point to heaven like a repenting sinner: they reach up with jagged finger-tops, snowy and white from the blood drained down from tips held up too long and long since frostbitten. They are eternity. Or at least as close as I can imagine.

October 16, 1972

It's been three days since we've crashed.