Mattie Shaefor

Riding the Hamster Wheel
I lay in my bivy sack, my mind slowly rising toward wakefulness. Raindrops begin to fall lightly on my sack and I look across the valley to see headlamps bobbing in blackness where daylight would reveal other vertical walls. Climbing parties retreating off their routes. Maybe that’s the smart thing, but the forecast was so good, it couldn’t be too serious, just a short-lived squall.