Wingood Lake Through the Years

By Hal Walter

I  looked up at Music Pass and could see the dark clouds of the season’s first serious storm brewing, threatening snow or freezing rain up there at over 11,000 feet. I looked at my friends. We’d planned a burro pack trip over the pass and down the other side. It was September, and anything is possible. I just didn’t have a real good feeling about it.

“I know another place,” I said.

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