Excerpt from Jimmy Kirkland of the Shasta Boys Team
The Overland, twenty hours late, freed from the railroad blockade that had held it at Ogden, Utah, was slowly winding its way toward the Northwest. On the far horizon the purple-black mountains fenced the level of the desert, now covered with pools of water that gathered until they trickled into rivulets that united into muddy torrents. A Chinook, or warm wind, had blown for two days, and had melted the billows of blizzard-heaped snow as if by magic.
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