Lillooet, Guaranteed Rugged

Sometimes I pause before writing a word...

*****sigh*****

How do I describe the impact that this remarkable scenery had on me?

What words can I use to give you a glimpse into these roads?

My vocabulary and syntax are so limited.

I am redundant in my adjectives and adverbs.

So sorry.

Even the photographs taken with our little Canon are restricted.

But I still want to share with you, so please continue to come along

and catch a peek at what we experienced.

*************************

I thought that heading southward meant shorter mountains and

more population, but I was WRONG!

We chose to turn southward at Prince George and avoid returning to

Alberta, the route we took in June. We would enter the US in Washington

rather than Montana.

Never did we dream that our decision meant the most death-defying roads

we'd been on yet. Even worse than crossing the Northern Rockies.

We drove on hairpin turns requiring 25 mph and couldn't imagine going faster.

The high cliffs on our left and harrowing drop-offs on our right

(no guard rails) made me white-knuckled and whoozy.

After many miles (too many!), we came upon a town called Lillooet.

Most of these areas belong to Native tribes and have unfamiliar names.

This little town's houses cluster in a valley by the river.

A train track clutches onto the very river bank, weaving in and out.

This sign says it all!

Please note the curves marked in the roadsign.

Do these twists and turns at 8,000 feet never end?

Occasionally some concrete barriers let me expand my lungs

a bit with some deep breaths. But they were rare, indeed.

And the breath ended in a gulp when I saw the ribbon of highway

twisting along the edge up ahead.

Guaranteed rugged--I'll say!