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On September thirteenth of 2016 I was driving up the Big Horn Mountains above Buffalo, Wyoming. Much the same as each excursion, I pressed in like manner: 2 jugs of water, 6 Nutrigrain Bars and my stacked handgun. I drove up 4 to 5 times each week never stressing on phantom stories or creatures. To the extent I knew, these mountains were safe other than predators seldomly observed and climate impedance.