Let's talk about another weather event out West, lightning. Lightning shows up somewhat often in the journals, when the weather is noted.
I've had a few close encounters with lightning out in the field, and I give it a lot of respect nowadays.

From John Bradbury:
This evening we had a most tremendous thunder storm; and about nine
o’clock, a tree, not more than fifty yards from our camp, was shivered by lightning. Mr. Hunt, Mr.
Nuttall, and myself, who were sitting in the tent, sensibly felt the action of the electric fluid

Whilst the supper was preparing, I walked back to an eminence, to collect some interesting plants, having
noticed them in passing. I had not been long employed in that way, when I saw a distant flash of
lightning in the south, and soon after others in quick succession. As these and other appearances
indicated the approach of a violent storm, I hastened back to recommend precautions for the
security of our arms and ammunition. Having boiled our meat, which amounted to a few morsels
each, we secured our powder horns and some tow in our camp kettle, which we inverted, and discharged
our rifles. Excepting the sound of distant thunder, which was continual, an awful silence
prevailed, and the cloud which had already spread over one half of the visible horizon, was fast
shutting out the little remains of daylight. As the trees afforded us no fuel, and in a few minutes
would become no shelter, but might endanger our safety, I recommended that we should go to the
open prairie, which we did, and lay down in our blankets: I put my plants under me. For several
hours the thunder, lightning, and rain were incessant, and such rain as I have seldom witnessed.
In half an hour after the storm commenced, we had nothing more to fear from it, excepting the
cold occasioned by the torrents that fell on us. At the approach of morning the rain ceased: we
saw a few stars, and with joy noticed the first appearances of day. We arose, and wrung the water
out of our blankets, and finding ourselves very much benumbed, we walked about to restore the
circulation: when it was sufficiently light, we put our rifles in order, which was attended with considerable
difficulty, as our hands were almost without sensation.

From the artist George Catlin:
During the memorable night of which I have just spoken, the steam-boat remained by the side of
the Mandan village, and the rain that had commenced falling continued to pour down its torrents
until midnight; black thunder roared, and livid lightning flashed until the heavens appeared to be
lit up with one unceasing and appalling glare. In this frightful moment of consternation, a flash
of lightning buried itself in one of the earth-covered lodges of the Mandans, and killed a beautiful
girl.

From W.A. Ferris:
It may be proper to remark here, that we have been drenched with rain, more or less, every day
since we left rendezvous. The mornings are generally cloudless and the rocks, mountains, and
valleys, are gilded by the dazzling brightness of the sun; but the scene changes as the day advances,
dense black clouds cover the face of nature, and heavy rains, though usually of short duration,
follow; however, it generally clears up, and becomes warm again, before the sun disappears
behind the neighboring mountains. Lightning and thunder are frequent during these storms, and
the latter is sometimes distinctly heard, when the sky appears perfectly cloudless.

From Larpenteur:
On approaching La Ramie’s River we discovered three large buffaloes lying dead close together.
The party was ordered to stop and form in double line, while the hunters were gone to find out
the cause of those buffaloes’ deaths, surmising that they had been killed by Indians. They were
gone but a little while before they returned, reporting that the animals had been killed by lightning
during a storm we had the previous day; so our fears of Indians were removed, and the party
resumed their march.

From Meek:
While they remained in the South Park, Mr. Guthrie, one of the Rocky Mountain Company’s
traders, was killed by lightning. A number of persons were collected in the lodge of the Booshway,
Frapp, to avoid the rising tempest, when Guthrie, who was leaning against the lodge pole,
was struck by a flash of the electric current, and fell dead instantly. Frapp rushed out of the lodge,
partly bewildered himself by the shock, and under the impression that Guthrie had been shot.


In the Rocky Mountains, by Alfred Jacob Miller

Cold hands fiddling with cold guns .Sounds miserable!

Builds character. Or something like that.