Sitting next to West Red Lodge Creek, just inside the Custer
National Forest, right up next to the Beartooth Wilderness, John was by my
side, the beer was very cold, the creek very clear and it was welcome to be
still after a demanding drive. I don’t know what gave the Beartooth Highway its
name, but my teeth were clenched as we switched back and forth up more than 5,000
feet. I had to remind myself out loud to breath as the car pointed again and
again into the void. Spectacular
views were sometimes second to spectacular fear until we reached the top and
walked through delicate tundra staying clear of knee buckling edges. Later we
discovered the Chief Joseph Highway to be fairly tame with shoulders rolling
rather than dropping off. Still spectacular rock faces thrust out of the earth
reminding me more introspectively of the volatile nature of the planet. The
ground we walk on has not always been as it is and it will not always remain
so.
