It Is Time . . .

Well, it's almost time. In twelve hours we'll be on our way, and in 24 hours we should be back. Eating. Reliving our harrowing hike and laughing at the fact that at some point we all thought we might die.

Okay, maybe not the dying part.

In the morning myself and two friends are going to hike to Druid Arch in Canyonlands. I used it as a location (the climax actually) of my first novel, and I figured since I live fairly close that I should visit.

Of course tomorrow is the only day that it's supposed to snow. Of course this is the first weekend in months that there has been even a hint of bad weather. Of course I had to pack an extra bag of just hiking clothes because I have NO idea what I'm going to want in the morning. Of course the temperatures have plummeted twenty degrees.

Come on, who's the jokester? What did I do to you? I'm sure it was all in good fun.

Fate, we can be friends again, right? And can we make sure that happens before about 9am tomorrow morning?

If no one hears from me by 6:00 tomorrow night, call the search and rescue guys in Moab. Handsome, single mean are preferred. Oh, well, we've got a guy with us, so any cute girls could come along as well. I supposed.