Jennifer's journal: ravens to the rescue.

It was against all the unwritten commands I'd learned early in life. I went alone into the thickets on cross-country skis late in the afternoon upon a winter day, and I chose a distant trail that wrapped around the mountain at nine thousand feet circling it like a shiny white ribbon.

I was an adequate skier, and my equipment was almost novel I had water and something to nibble upon in my backpack. I carried a spare sweater and sock in case I got wet.

I believed I was prepared. And however a voice whispered in my ear, warning, "If there is an accident and you are by dint of yourself, ...