Thanks for Clearing the Air for Me

On Sunday, September 3, the missus and I pointed our trusty Subaru southeast toward Greeley, Colorado for a week-long series of client meetings. To be honest, we weren’t sure we’d ever escape the smoke. Ash was falling like snowflakes in Butte; though it was less severe where we camped that night in the Tobacco Root Mountains near Pony, Montana, a layer of gray covered our tent when we awoke the following morning. It wasn’t until we approached Cheyenne Monday evening that we were finally out of the worst of it—and even then, northern Colorado was under a dull haze all week.

Imagine my surprise when, last night, I descended Lookout Pass to find this glorious sight.

Did my eyes deceive me? I got out of the car, cautiously sniffed the air, then breathed in one lungful after another of fresh, untainted mountain air. It was as good a “welcome home” as I could have wished for. Glad to have you (somewhat) back to normal, PNW.



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