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Snow falling from trees. On our cross America
cycle tour we decided to check out the Crater Lake area in Oregon.
Peeking out the tent door the following morning, I spotted a
patch of blue sky. "It's clearing," I shouted jubilantly.
Sharon, disbelieving, stayed tucked in her sleeping bag. I could
hardly blame her for not trusting my judgment... we hadn't seen
sun in three weeks.
We boiled our pot of frozen water, then packed
our cardboard-stiff tent. Nursing numb fingers and toes, we pedalled
the last few kilometres to the top of Mount Mazama.
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