Like I said, I had been looking at this unbelievable stretch of road ever since I could remember. That is if you could even call it a road. It more likely started life as a dozer-carved fire break. I had always figured I was exagerating when I told people it was a 45% grade, but I just found it on Google maps and the topographic shows it climbs about 450 vertical feet in about 1,000 lineal feet. If my math is right, that's 45%--if not, it's still steep.
So Chuck and I decided to attempt it in my “new” Jeep. I figured that worse case we would just back down. It was unbelievable. The old Willys just chugged right up it like nothing—nice and slow, no spinning, "just like a Willys in 4-wheel drive" as the Grateful Dead put it. The view of the Salt Lake valley at sunset from that vantage was absolutely incredible. The ride back down was a little slippery and provided a good rush, but basically its was just a fun ride. I took Chuck home and interestingly, that was the last time I saw him--but that's another story.
I provide this as background for what happened next.
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