Feast of Friends

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For three hours I’d navigated through the snow-covered roads. The remains of a cold diner coffee and the buzz from the No-Doz kept me alert, or so I thought. The headlights danced against the white veiled crags, the granite glistening.  Four miles of loose dirt roads and another thirty to go.  I reached for the radio, expecting no more than static.  A sonorous jazz routine emerged from the speakers; reminiscent of Bourbon Street or Toulouse in the

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