I grew up in Illinois and Minnesota. We didn’t have mountain roads. My Mom moved to Denver and kept trying to get us to move, too. I told her, “No. We would be divorced if we moved there because Dave loves to drive mountain roads and they terrify me so I’d never see him.”
Now we live in a motorhome driving all around the country. I can look at most maps and tell what roads I want to stay away from. Switchbacks are danger signs to me. Interstate roads through mountains are fine because they have wide lanes and shoulders. It’s those narrow lanes, winding back and forth, with steep grades, and drop off shoulders that get to me.
But some places you can only get to by driving mountain roads. The north rim of the Grand Canyon is one of them and Dave really wanted to go to the north rim. Here’s another song for you, “The things we do for love.”
The road to the north rim, US 89A in northern Arizona past Jacob’s Lake and Fredonia, Arizona, is a mountain road. I made Dave drive less than 25 miles an hour and I was still terrified. I HATE mountain roads! To borrow a really good word from Nick Russell (http://gypsyjournal.net/blog/): snivel, snivel. I wanted to curl up in bed and whimper until I went to sleep but I was too afraid to do that, either. In case you missed it–I HATE mountain roads!
Take me HOME!
TTYL,
Linda