Here's our beloved Ridge Pounder, who gets the goods at any and all cost. We abuse these camera guys in a way that should almost be illegal. Waking up at 4:30 a.m. every day. Hanging from some tree by a rope with sopping wet hunks of snow falling on them. Trying to keep cameras up and running in conditions that make cameras want to roll over and die. Midnight death marches. Packing meat. Constantly being yelled at to hold still and stop making so much damned noise. I'd almost feel sorry for the poor bastards if they didn't seem to enjoy it so much.
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