A plastic jar of moonshine was brought out to the cheers of the 60-70 climbers lounging about, usually draped across some part of their gear. It was drained quickly. Earlier in the morning the skies looked dismal for planes to fly in, but as the morning progressed the weather outlook followed suit. And sure enough, another flight service got in using their ILF equipment to be able to take off and land in the fog of Talkeetna, something no other Denali plane has. So we watch expectantly for K2, our flight service to get into action soon. After a number of flights by TAT and another service we heard that K2 had turned back, not willing to risk flying into the clouds around the glacier near the airstrip. Our faith that our ride home is coming fades and frustration mounts while watching TAT customers get flown out for well over an hour. And now, a thick ground fog has enveloped the airstrip here on the SE fork of the Kahiltna Glacier. It's 4:30 and my generally optimistic outlook is certainly not what is was a few hours earlier. But I've seen this story develop in the past. Many times I've been on the winning side of the situation, looking at climbers awaiting rides while I was on my way to a hot shower and cold beer. But today that is not the case. And it's not the fault of the pilot who turned back either. He simply refused to take the chance the other pilots did - the chance of crashing the plane with me and my group on board. So, we wait... A couple of climbers entertain us with some blues ukulele and harmonica. Ipods are out, as are books that have yet to be finished, as we all try to relax and will the fog away. Thoughts of dinner in Talkeetna are being replaced with thoughts of putting tents back up. But, we still have plenty of time. So we wait, as do you, for our return home. In the meantime, the flavor of moonshine lingers softly on my palate, leaving me wanting...something more. RMI Guide Brent Okita