My mind whirled with all sort of scenarios of doom––becoming stuck in snow or careening off of the cliffs topped the list. I had to force myself to enjoy the beauty that surrounded me. The skies were blue, the sun shining brightly on the snow covered peaks, and there was very little traffic. When any car came at me from the opposite direction, I would check for evidence of snow––and saw none. I had forty-seven miles of winding roads ahead of me, and with each passing mile, I began to relax, just a little. I made a mental note of my supplies and knew even if I did get stuck, I’d be warm with my clothes, including my waders, tucked in the back. I had food and even a bottle of wine. I also had to remind myself that even if the car sputtered out (I have an older Suburu, purchased specifically for my mountainous treks), there were people who would help. I had to trust in humanity––and also my own preparations.