CHAPTER
25
What a difference four thousand feet makes. By the time I reached the turnoff at the bottom of the hill, the wind had died down considerably and streams of sunlight intermittently punched through the ragged, fast-moving clouds. Amazing. Behind me, the summit was still shrouded in a misty cloud cap of charcoal grey. The mountain did indeed create its own weather patterns.
Back in the land of cell service, my phone started dinging like a pinball machine as message after message came through. I pulled to the side of the road to scroll through them. The first one was from my dad and included several photos of the family standing at the entrance of Monument Valley. REALLY WINDY BUT HAVING A BALL! WISH U WERE HERE WITH US. He wore a cheerful grin, but Sean and my mother
