Marilyn was 42, and an alcoholic. It took us a while to work that out, too. I mean, she looked more like 45 or 46 to me. The alcoholic part was easy. While the rest of us would crack our first beers around sundown, making us only part-time drunks, by the middle of the trip Marilyn was breaking out the bottle before lunch. Every day. By mid-afternoon she’d be rolling down the aisle.