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The wind howled down the canyon, a banshee wailing and moaning, whipping the giant trees back and forth. I was pelted with pine needles ripped from their branches as equally as I was pelted by the slashing rain. If the temperature dropped much more that rain could easily turn into sleet but since the day should be getting warmer I didn’t think I needed to worry about that too much.
“At least it isn’t hailing.” It’s the little things in life. “Yet…”
Several hours had passed since leaving the camp next to Palisade Lakes and I hadn’t made it very far. The conditions had deteriorated with the wind picking up speed and the rain falling harder and harder. The trail had become a raging torrent as water from the higher elevations rushed down it. The sections that weren’t under water were muddy and slippery, making every step treacherous.
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