It's kind of a crappy photo, so this is going to be one of those instances when words —albeit most likely shy of one thousand— will have to do.

We were seeing patches of snow in the shaded areas along the road, so I'll guess we were somewhere around 4,000 ft up the mountain. I have tried to see if I could pinpoint the exact location of this spot in the road on Google Earth, and believe I have found it.

If so, we were close. We were very close to having a spectacular view of miles and miles of mountains and the valley below.

As you can see, the road sticks close to the mountainside. And, if this was a better photo, you'd be able to see the small waterfall beside the road instead of a faint blur. You can, however, see the little mound of rocks and gravel that has accumulated at its base. And you can also get a sense that the road eventually jogs a little to the left, again, following the mountain. About 150 yards further, it then winds to the right around the mountain.

In the shadow. However, you can see the washout.

At the first set of markers the road looks to be fairly wide. Yet, by the time one hits that second set, the road has narrowed, I'm estimating to about ten feet. I say "estimate" because we didn't make it that far.

Again, what you can't see is that I am on a repaired road, one that shows evidence of many washouts. I was standing on just such an area when I took this photo. We had in fact driven up to that first marker, and from my cab I could see that fresher repairs lay ahead.

I have a little experience on these mountain roads. If one wants to get a view, one has no choice but to explore them. Yet, when I hit that first marker, I was overcome by a sense of dread. Not nerves. Dread.

And I said so to my niece.

It may have been the fact that I could not see around the bend. It may have been the sight of the waterfall so close to the road (culverts don't always channel all of the water and erosion can occur). But I felt doom was immanent and knew I had to stop.

You might remember a post from last fall about a fishing trip I took out to the coastal river I like. If so, you will recall that I had a similar feeling then, only not nearly as strong. I sensed impending danger yet continued to fish. "Just one more cast and then I'll go. Okay, maybe just one more." And then the state cop showed up to check my license. I had it, but I also had bait, which both he and I knew was illegal on this stretch of water. I was fortunate that my jig was bare and the shrimp behind a boulder. Ignoring that feeling again was not something I was going to do, especially when magnified by a factor of five.

Now, mountain roads are usually dotted with turnouts, not so much for folks to pull over to see the sites but more for that rare occasion when one meets oncoming traffic. The idea is one vehicle pulls over to let the other go by. And, should one be caught between two turnouts, a skill in driving in reverse is recommended. I can do it, although I'd rather not, especially when the road is narrow only because there is nothing on either side of it except steep mountainside.

Although I had decided to go no further, I had no recollection of where that last turnout was. And in that we were already using switchbacks, I imagined it was further than I cared to drive using only my sideview mirrors.

I surveyed the road in our immediate vicinity. Twenty yards back was an area that looked like it might hold potential for a K turn or five. Yet, it was also clearly an area that had been repaired after a wash.  I paced it off in relation to the size of my wheel base. I figured I had about two feet between me and the canyon floor. I instructed my niece as to those parameters and put the rig into low four-wheel drive. Steering was a bit rougher but I knew I'd need every edge I had.

It's tough to put your trust in someone else and rely on her perception of the situation, but she's an intelligent young woman and understood the gravity of the situation. Regardless, better me than both of us taking the quick way down.

It took us four tries to turn the rig around and off we went, but only after I took the picture. There was another road we passed on the way up and I thought for a moment to see where it went.

Naaaahhhh. Time to go get pizza.