As they say, been there, done that, got the t-shirt. And then some.

Lemme see, I've driven over that bridge, I've walked the bridge, I've been down to the bottom of the gorge on the inclined railway, I've been through the gorge on the railroad that follows the Arkansas River at the bottom. I've flown through it in a helecopter.

Do you see those hills in the background? I've spent months there wandering around with a compass, a rock-hammer, and a pack full o' rocks.

It is rugged country. Beautiful, in its own way. The gorge is beautiful, especially in the fall, after rain, when the sun is low. The surrounding area is rugged and dry, being in the rain shadow of the Sangre de Cristo mountains.

Ah, the memories come back like the flash-flooded arroyo I experienced one June afternoon, the dusty wash-boarded roads, camping out with a view of the snow-covered Sangres running down into New Mexico, the amazingly complicated geology, rattlesnakes, bears, and yes, outcrops of nodular sillimanite gneiss. (AKA....) I could, and probably should, write of those days, they were quite entertaining. The hotels I lived in, the people I worked with, the townies I got to know, the one I wanted to get to know better...

..Sigh...

You really should go, if you have the chance. And I'll tell you something the picture doesn't show about the world's highest suspension bridge: the road base is a series of thick wood planks. Yup, you can look straight down on the river like a ribbon below through the very road you are on.

(Another memory: our long lost RL has walked that bridge. I know, 'cause I walked it with him.)

Thanks for the memories.