I hiked with George once. We got lost on the Continental Divide Trail. We ended it eating breakfast at a cafe, offically closed for a private party, in Silver Plume.
“Weather is one of the things that goes on without you, and after a certain amount of living it is bracing to contemplate the many items not dependent upon you for their existence.” Thomas McGuane, Weather
Where I live, we do not observe the changing Autumn leaves with melancholy, or wait out the cold, dark Winter, or burst with life at the coming of Spring. We have days short and reasonably cold, and then days long and unreasonably hot. But I know there are seasons up high, and my year turns around following the melting snow, and beating the first flakes of September, and seizing the moments between that new life and the long, silent sleep that follows. You can confirm an entire life in that breach.
And here I am, inside my tent, waiting out the rain. Wind River surprised me with the quantity of water I’d have to…
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