(Part 2 of a fictional narrative) Moving up and away from First Hut I was almost immediately enclosed by thick cloud cover. The only part of the path I could do was the one right in front of my feet. Cloud streamed all about me, and I was soaked pretty quick. My guide was slightly better prepared for this than I was, but now he remained silent most of the time. Clouds and silence were all we knew. My mind wandered back to the relative warmth and dry comfort of First Hut kitchen the night before, which had been spartan enough at the time, but now seemed like a luxury.
(photo, Mt. Fako, Cameroon, First Hut's kitchen)
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