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Crusty Cassette

Frosty the Camper



My bladder keeps its own schedule. When It demanded relief about 1:30 am, I answered. The fly of my tent hung with dew.But the sky had cleared revealing the big dipper, Cassiopeia and constellations I’ve long since forgotten. I gave no thought to the moisture gathering around me.

At 6:30, however, those beads of condensation had become neat, little balls of ice. Though temps would rise into the 80s this day began with frost on everything from the tents to the bicycle saddles. By the time we left about 10, we wore short sleeves and shorts. It would be warm today. But each morning we’d see more frost save the last.

Continue reading Breathless








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