Thunder

He stopped to take a swig of water and took in the view of the valley below. Thru the sparse branches of the pines crowning the ridgeline, he could just pick up the lazy curves of the sluggish verde river far below. The wind gusted, swaying the trees, and to the east lightning flashed.
One..... two.... three... four.... five.... not-so distant rumble of thunder. Time to get off the ridgeline.
Another five miles until the trail started switchbacks down towards the valley. He remembers a friend talking about an old placer mine not far from the trail. Maybe he could find some shelter there.