I woke up from a dream where we lived in a windy town and this monster cloud enslaved the community. In the dream, we were just at the part where the escape was to go down and then I woke up to wind rustling our tree outside. That’s weird, the wind never blows in Missoula.

The dream faded as the work day progressed, and soon it was time to go for a ride. Fat bike was the flavor of the day. I jumped into our Honda Element and headed to the local trailhead.

I had almost entirely forgotten about the dream, but the tracks disappearing into the distance brought it all back to me. We eventually escaped from Livingston, and I am thankful for that. But now what is this? And why do people try to get away?

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