48.) Lancelot changed into bathing trunks and dove into the freezing water, opening his eyes in the murk. He dog paddled sploosh, sploosh, and cast his eyes around the canyon. He dragged his numbed body back on to the soft land and drank and ate. The meat from Duke’s grill was relentless, crisp and hot. He served up onions and pork and beef and stuffed mushrooms with homemade hot sauce. Fat broke on Lancelot’s tongue and he washed it down with red wine and watched the impossible Andes mountains seeking amnesia in the welcoming clouds.