My attention was rudely diverted back to the highway in front of me, I had a run in with a cattle guard on the way to the Buttermilks earlier that year that had almost set Champ on fire. The worn out shocks rattled over the cattle guard and the engine sputtered a few times and then finally died out.
It is early in the morning and my ears are numb. The wind smells cold. I love the mountains in fall just before the leaves begin to give up their life and fall to the earth. You can sense the change in the spirit of the mountains.
This is really going to hurt! I think to myself. Suddenly, I am jerked to a halt. I have slid through a tangle of thorn-covered vines and they have stopped me only a few feet above the boulders that had threatened to eat me alive.
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