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The sound comes up fast and hard, like a blender churning in my head. The wind burst throws me down. I grab the bike, but it’s being pulled out from under me. The helmet, if anything, I’d need it just to protect my head. My fingers scramble for the latch. But the rain makes my grip slick. Concentrating hard on getting the helmet off the handlebars, I don’t hear the rocks above me starting to slide. A small tree tumbles down next to me and falls out of sight. How close am I to the cliff’s edge? Another crack of lightning and an immediate bang of thunder rattles the ground. It must’ve hit only yards from me. Tugging frantically, I yank the helmet free of the bike and thump it onto my head just as the earth beneath me gives way.Michele Corriel lives and works in Montana's scenic Gallatin Valley, surrounded by seven mountain ranges.
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