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On a gravel bar pocked with elk prints, Joe fired up his tiny camp stove. More days should start this way: pre-dawn wake up, bite of icy water on feet and ankles, first sunbeams felt against one’s face, cradled mug of hot coffee sipped to the lap of river against gravel. These are the sensations of an autumn morning in Wyoming. Read the story here.
Emilene Ostlind 