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Summer, going into fall, is my favorite time of year. This year, the transition season seemed to reward me for my loyalty.
For months, I’d had an outing planned — one that involved a river, the mountains and a tiny town tucked between them.
I rallied a few friends to come along and then braced myself — knowing full well that when the designated weekend arrived, we would be rained out.
Even when the forecasts called for perfect weather, I shrugged.
I knew there would be a hitch.
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