Living My Dying

I had a vivid dream last month that I veered off a high mountain while I drove a car, took a huge gasp (knowing I was to die), and was suspended in the air when I woke up. I think of this dream every time I drive or ride my road bike down Highway 12 from what the locals call "Head of the Rocks." This section of the road takes a wide right swing, descending a 12% grade over-looking mottled white and red slickrock. The Henry mountains loom in the background. If I gaze over the mounds of slickrock while the centrifugal force from the curve is on me, I can feel that same suspended sensation from my dream, like being cradled in a half-moon's lap. Next time you are traveling from Escalante to Boulder, see if this part of the road takes your breath away too.