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@@ -45,7 +45,7 @@ I shake their hands and thank Pam for the opportunity. She smiles and adjusts he
 
 I look at my Idaho Department of Lands shirt, the government truck, and the black highway leading me like a river to Sundance Lookout high in the Selkirk Mountains. The truck kicks up dust, as we climb the poorly maintained service road, and the all-terrain tires are tested by sharp rocks while the undercarriage narrowly misses deep ruts and boulders. I forget to shift into four-wheel drive and, briefly, the truck’s tires spin free on the steep slope. Trout sits up abruptly and observes the situation. _Don’t worry, Bud_. 
 
-The burn scar is the first thing I notice when cresting the peak of Sundance Mountain: despite regenerating for over half of a century of regeneration, the vegetation is noticeably stunted compared to nearby mountain slopes. The heat thickens the air like syrup as I close the truck door and wave to the lookout staff being relieved from duty. Her two dogs run to the edge of the fifty-foot-tall tower, and she waves back—Trout looks at them uninterested. 
+The burn scar is the first thing I notice when cresting the peak of Sundance Mountain: despite over half of a century of regeneration, the vegetation is noticeably stunted compared to nearby mountain slopes. The heat thickens the air like syrup as I close the truck door and wave to the lookout staff being relieved from duty. Her two dogs run to the edge of the fifty-foot-tall tower, and she waves back—Trout looks at them uninterested. 
 
 I inspect the inside of my new home which has a dish sink, propane stove, and a small refrigerator in the corner. Gas lamps hang on the wall above a small bed that I throw my sleeping bag over. I step onto the deck and see smoke obfuscating mountains to the east and north. With aerial surveillance taking place, I question how much of this antiquated role is necessary. I crack a beer and drag my camp chair to the deck. Trout sits next to me.