THE DESCENT 4/22/08

The way down is as remarkable as the way up. I can’t help but look over and notice Burns is not placing his foot on the brake. His foot is off the brake. Off the brake, and going downhill.

This is Hill Descent Control in its purest form. The LR3 is in complete control, lowering itself down the rock almost without any human interaction. It’s a level of control and safety that sort of catches the breath. Not unlike what happens when we look out and see the La Sal Range in the distance as we make our way back down the trail.

Burns turns to me: “I never get tired of these mountains. I could live up here forever.”

Heading back to the resort, the highway feels like driving on pillows. After a day of challenging rocks and insanely-steep inclines, it’s almost a relief to drive flat, and feel the cushion of paved road.

I arrive at my room, exhausted and nicely exfoliated by sand. I take a quick shower, and then head to the dining room. Tonight we have tomato soup topped with chile relleno (insanely good), Caesar salad, Utah trout with brown rice, and a glass or two of chardonnay.

Conversation is extraordinary. And unexpected. Our group, sitting around the dinner table—worldly off-roaders and subdued doctors alike—we all talk over the day’s events, and weave our way through conversations about politics and religion—two almost impossible subjects. Everyone said something, everyone listened, everyone got to know each other. This was our first night.