On the 24th, Ray was sent a letter telling him that Wolves in the Throne Room were holding their farewell concert in Olympia, WA. In order to discover who was truly worthy, fans would be forced to hike the Washington wilderness to find their way to the venue. Only those in tune with nature would arrive in time. He strapped his pack on, filled with enough food and equipment to manage the day-trip, and headed out into the woods near Mt. Rainier. How foolish he was to assume that the few documentaries he watched, narrated by Sir David Attenborough, would have provided him with enough survival information. He spent seven days rolling around the mountainside, vomiting his brains out every time he shoved a handful of assorted berries into his gullet to maintain any level of nutrition, passing out, watching his wound fester and his fever slowly eat at what was left of his humanity. By the time he was finally clear of the wretched disease that addled his body, I was reduced to his bare minimal animal instinct while foaming at the mouth.