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Scene Three: The Great Heist. Night falls. The air is perfect. We're laughing at past memories, me not dying on the climb in, dreaming of new goals and feeling pretty accomplished… until I go to retrieve my clothes.
Gone. Poof. As in, VANISHED. Gone.
Arn thinks I’m losing it (because I obviously was…BEFORE), but I KNOW they were there. Then I spot my socks behind a large boulder, covered in… saliva. Next: sports bra, barely hanging on a bush. Then my shirt, dragged toward a hole in the brush that neither of us wanted to investigate. I hand Arn a stick and tell him to go for it, it's a brand new shirt and we are not leaving without it. (He says, this is how horror movies start. I said, I'll miss you.)
Turns out, a MARMOT (a real-life, fat-cheeked mountain rodent) had decided my sweaty hiking gear was a souvenir. And not just mine - we later found all sorts of stolen hiker goods scattered around his lake-side lair. Trash panda meets klepto squirrel - spoons, food trash, more clothes, etc.
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