I maybe would have been more familiar with the roads if I was out there more often. But to be fair, half the time they could barely be called roads. Really more like wide walking paths. When it wasn’t ball-busting washboard, it was rutted out from runoff. Overgrown on both sides, always imperceptibly being taken back by the forest it was scalped from. Every corner was a blind one; the posted speed limit was a dare. Driving during the day was a crap shoot. At night? Forget it. Going over the speed limit bought you a one-way ticket to somewhere you didn’t want to be.
Waters That Divide
Waters That Divide
Waters That Divide
I maybe would have been more familiar with the roads if I was out there more often. But to be fair, half the time they could barely be called roads. Really more like wide walking paths. When it wasn’t ball-busting washboard, it was rutted out from runoff. Overgrown on both sides, always imperceptibly being taken back by the forest it was scalped from. Every corner was a blind one; the posted speed limit was a dare. Driving during the day was a crap shoot. At night? Forget it. Going over the speed limit bought you a one-way ticket to somewhere you didn’t want to be.