Those black clouds hit like a wall and found me huddled under a ponderosa, eating clams and Reese’s peanut butter and trying to look cool. Joery came up behind me in his ridiculous turquoise poncho and announced that the old LeFevre shack was less than 100ft from where I was huddled so we went there and stayed slightly more dry, signed the walls like everyone else before us had (Joery did the classic three letter Dutch word for “crazy man” and I drew a pentagram), recoined it the Hanta Hovel, then I left him there BECAUSE I HIKE ALONE.
Honestly I was in my happy place with all that giant, wet sage – so fragrant… Ecstasy!
