Day thirty-seven, still digging out. As long as the wood holds out, I can keep a fire during in the cook stove, so melting snow for water is not a problem. Provisions are holding up, but I’m terribly sick of beans. The tunnel is now well over three miles long, and I wish I had started digging out sooner. The spur to the Johnson’s cabin is complete, but too late. They were both frozen in their bedroom. Too bad. They were a nice old couple. At least I have been able to replenish the supply of wood, and it also provides me with a forward position from which to work, which has saved me much time and effort. Still, I don’t know how much further I can go. The main road, if it is still a road, is eighteen more miles to go, if my estimates are accurate.