Corey’s green-and-yellow plaid shirt stood out like a sore thumb. The yellow was almost a neon yellow. The green? Linda Blair vomit.
As we hiked along a lonely trail that stretched between two small Madison River tributaries, the southwest Montana afternoon sky shimmered with sunlight as it sliced through pockets of storm clouds. The grass of the lowland pastures was high and deep green. Below us, miles away, we could see the Madison, shining silver in the patches of sun the clouds failed to filter out.
