Status Updates From The Monkey Wrench Gang

Now the stillness was complete. The watchers on the rim, heard the croon of a mourning dove.They heard the hoot of an owl, the cries of little binds retiring to sleep. The great golden light of the setting sun streamed across the sky, glowing upon the mountains. Almost all the country within their view was roadies. uninhabited, a wilderness. They meant to keep it that way. They sare meant to try. Keep it like it was.