Then I realized the problem: The ATM wasn't handshaking with the computer. This was major bad news. I'm a network guy; I know virtually nothing about ATMs. I couldn't even figure out how to turn the ATM off. But it was almost 4 p.m., and an ominous crowd was growing.

I had driven all night to get to Bolden, and by now everything was starting to blur. Fortunately, the bank's techies in Whitehorse were helpful, and miraculously I managed to get the ATM back online just after 5 o'clock.

I was staggering back to the hotel when a shady-looking character grabbed hold of my arm. I started to yell for help, until I saw his grin. "Hey, man," he said, "you did great! My wife would have killed me if I came home without groceries tonight. I'm buyin' you a drink."

That night, when they locked down the hotel, I didn't care. The Pipeline Bar was just as warm and twice as friendly.