Michael and I squeezed in an October trip to the Sierras this year. We pulled in to the Caples Lake campground on the heels of the season’s first storm – not much below, but wild enough up high. I wrote the poem below while a muscular wind played patty-cake with Michael’s best tent. It’s the worse for wear, believe me. We walked a section of the PCT the next day in perfect weather.
http://www.verse-virtual.com/robert-walton-2015-november.html
