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Patreon dot com slash d r no sleep now time for the story I pull off highway to and into the Hungry Horse Ranger Station just as the summer

storm clouds split open above me. A curtain of rain dumps down over the tiny town

of Hungry Horse, the cluster of long low buildings that make up the ranger

station sits not far off the highway. As I parked next to a forest service vehicle, I can see the gas station across the street in my rearview mirror.

But I know Northern Montana well, and I know that the wilderness takes over not far outside these little towns that humans have erected for themselves.

Once you leave the power grid and water and shelter behind, there are so many ways things can go wrong for you.

Of course, that's why I'm here at all.

That's why I've been called up to Montana in the middle of July,

away from my cozy cabin in the Smoky Mountains. This is what I do. Leaving everything

but my phone and wallet in the car, I won't need my gear until later, I step out and turn my face up to the rain for a moment.

The cool water runs across my bald scalp and gathers in my bushy brown red beard.

It pools against my closed eyelids and tries to break the seal

I've made with my lips. I wonder if the Loudark family is being reined on wherever they

are in the wild mountains that sprout up from Montana dirt,

like the jagged spines of ancient and massive creatures that once ruled the earth.

I did my research on the plain ride up, looking at their social media pictures,

committing the faces of the four missing people to memory.

Now, as I revel in the cool Montana rain, I picture them huddle together, lost, near to starving,

be the injured.

I picture them miserable but alive.

...