January 8th, 2034
Winter has come in earnest to the Tejon Pass.
The first flakes of snow hit the ground around four this morning and have been falling ever since. It’s now coming up on nine a.m., and judging by the thick gray day that’s shaping up around me, there isn’t going to be a break in the action any time soon.
This storm could last all day, if not longer.
That being the case, I’m bugging out. I’m hitting the bricks for one simple reason, the more it snows, the easier it’ll be for the warbirds to pick up my trail. An aerial patrol would have no problem spotting my tracks out here, and I’ve no doubt I’d be looking at the business end of a blaster shortly thereafter.
It’s best I get moving while there s plenty of storm left to cover my exit.
That said, I’m out of here.