High up on a ridge in the Funeral Mountains, we'd gone to bed with a gentle breeze blowing through the tent. It'd been chilly, given the time of year and our 4800' elevation, but not too bad - until midnight anyway, when the wind picked up. With gusts up to 15mph, the 32ºF air meant that wool caps, burrowing, and earplugs were in order as the tent buffeted around us for the remainder of the night. The silver lining in it all, were the clouds that were blown in, and as I climbed out of the tent just after 6:00am,…
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