During his one month here, he’d learned that hiking the Cascades was a different challenge than back East, and not just the elevation. A wrong turn there could lead you back to the highway miles away from your car; do the same thing here and you could walk a hundred miles without ever seeing another human, or a road. Wilderness that even jets took a while to cross over. Lost on foot? Very bad news.
Today, he headed off across the flats to the south of town. He’d spotted a plume of smoke up on the hills and used it as an excuse to hike in a new direction. A boxy truck was parked at the base of the trail. Light green with shining golden script, Cascade Hotshots.
It was an odd vehicle. The back was a short box with four windows down the sides, like a bus that had its back end sawed off. Bu
