Evenings Along The Hungry Horse Reservoir in Montana.
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There was only one good thing that came out of having my set up accidentally kicked into the cloudy, rushing Colorado River. I got to get new gear. 628 more words
I SIT ACROSS from Tyler, and between us is a short, half-eaten stack of pancakes. “Sit” is a loose term for how I am slumped in my chair over what have become, during the last half-hour, drying lumps of rock. 3,415 more words