Swollen masses of clouds rolled in over the Lake, one layer of darkness piled on top of the other. It was not the kind of night for sailing or flying. A thing called graupel fell from the sky as if some cosmic comedian was having fun with a shaker full of Dippin' Dots.
We took cover in the abandoned Donner Pass Summit Train Tunnels, named after the Donner Party, a group of explorers en route to California who became stranded in the Sierra Nevada region due to heavy snow... and resorted to cannibalism to survive. Seemed like the perfect place to chill. My daughter and I danced the darkness away until the storm passed. Heaven was heavy and all was good.
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