From the Lost Creek Storm Series, Number 4 of 5 The rain was over. I was wet, really wet. If it hadn’t been for my gortex wadding jacket, I would probably have had hypothermia to boot. Ahead of me, the clouds were parting, and the sun was streaming into the narrow Lost Creek Wilderness area valley. I was trudging through inches of mud on the wigwam trail, my feet in wet-wading boots, soaked to the bone. I stopped to take my jacket off. I turned around and it was as though I had been struck by lightning. The dark sky was still off in the distance, but immediately before me was the most intense, most stunning, most awe-inspiring rainbow I had ever seen. It shot into the air from the south, it arced across the sky, and settled back to earth atop a large granite formation. If there was a pot of gold up there, I surely would not be able to reach it. The scene was mesmerizing. The sky glowed. It was as if the air had weight. The rainbow served as a frame for Buffalo Peak off in the distance. I was perhaps the most quintessentially perfect view I have ever witnessed.