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| The Day the Sky Fell Down: A Marmot's Perspective by Whiskers on April 02, 2025 Long ago, on a spring day, a massive metal bird crashed into Gold Dust Peak. Alright, gather 'round, me pups! Ol' Whiskers here is gonna tell you about the day the sky fell down. It was something even we marmots couldn't ignore. Now, we marmots, we're used to a bit of a commotion. The occasional hawk screeching overhead, the rumble of a distant thunderstorm, even that pesky human with the camera poking around. But nothing, nothing, prepared us for that day. It was a fine crisp April mornin' in human year 1997, sun shinin', daisies poppin' up. I was just a young pup, stretchin' out after a long winter's nap, enjoying the warmth on my fur, when I heard it. A roarin' like I'd never heard before. Then, a flash of silver, a thunderous boom and the ground shook like a badger doin' a jig. Dust filled the air and the whole mountainside trembled. We marmots, we froze, hearts poundin' like a drum solo. Then, silence. An eerie, unnatural silence. We poked our heads out of the burrows, cautious as a fox checkin' out a henhouse. Smoke was risin' from Gold Dust Peak and there, layin' amongst the rocks, was... well, I don't right know what it was. Some sort of giant metal bird, all broken and twisted. Humans came sniffin' around, all flustered and talkin' in strange tongues. They poked and prodded at the bird, and then they started diggin'. Days went by, and the humans kept comin' and goin', their loud voices echoin' through the mountains. Life got a bit chaotic, I gotta say. All this commotion was disturb'in my sleep and meal times. That's all day, you know. And the humans, well, they weren't exactly known for their burrow-digging etiquette. But at least they brought some tasty lookin' snacks for us to steal. Eventually, the humans packed up and left and things went back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for a marmot, I guess. But I'll never forget that day, the day the sky fell down. It sure gave us marmots a story to tell, that's for sure. Now, Gold Dust Peak is quiet again, save for the wind, the whistlin' calls of our kin and the occasional climber collectin' metal bird parts. Mountains keep their mysteries well and we marmots? We always remember. No one ever found out why that bird fell here and stories say that bird left somethin' behind, somethin' important that no one ever found. I recon someday the mountain will give up that secret, but it held on to it long and it won't part with it easily. On April 2, 1997 Captain Craig Button's Fairchild A-10 Thunderbolt II crashed on Gold Dust Peak under mysterious circumstances. The jet carried four 500 pound Mark 82 bombs, which were never recovered. |
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