Heading north out of Stanley and on up to Montana, Highway 93 wanders through the mountains, following the path originally made by the Salmon River.
There are lots of turnouts, both for people to let faster cars by (I’ll let even one car by me when I’m towing because it’s so much more enjoyable to go slow and not have a tailgater behind me) and for savoring the views. And amazing views they are!
I’d forgotten how big things are in the west, and how wide open the sky even as the mountains rise up to meet it.
This old wreck of a homestead was clearly abandoned by owners long ago, but the light still loved it. And so did I.
The road wiggles and winds around mountains of rock, up and down passes high and higher, with the occasional sign to warn of adventure ahead.
The road was mostly empty as I drove north, and I think I saw more train cars that people cars on that 200 miles of road. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from.
Terry Tempest Williams