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Above Cirque Lake looms the saddle I crossed in the height of a thunderstorm, just an hour before. After descending to Cove Lake, I hurry to get the most important things out of the way; tent, food hung, water pumped. No sooner do I accomplish these tasks, all hell breaks loose; thunder, lightning, wind and hail for forty minutes. The storm moves east before dark, and with half an inch of hail on the ground, I am able to start dinner. No fishing this evening!
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