Both front windows were rolled all the way down, the way I do them when I’m driving by myself. The guitar was in the back seat. I wanted to come back where it was cooler, up in the mountains, so I took the High Road turnoff at Nambe.
What, no rocks or cactus?
It was cool, all right, almost cold. Beautiful up there, but awfully dry. I saw lots of Ponderosa pines with dead branches or yellow needles. When I came down into Peñasco, things were much greener, however. You could smell the moisture in the air, and there were fresh green bales of hay in the fields. I doubled back to get a shot of this horse, had to do the highway patrol turn-around (stop, back across the road with turned all the way, brake, spin the wheel the other direction and pull forward). I think my junior high driver’s ed teacher taught us that. He was an ex-patrolman. He’s also the one who told us that when two cars collide at high speed in the dark, they give off a pink flash.
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Dad taught me. Called it a bootlegger’s turn. (works even better when you reverse fast and hit the brake hard with the steering full lock — swings the front end around quite nicely just like on Tee Vee — Dad didn’t teach that part)
The manuever can be performed in a more genteel fashion, though I’ve also done it as you describe. “Bootlegger’s turn” is much better. I probably named it for the highway patrol cars turning around in my rear-view-mirror.
The main danger on a mountain road, aside from the possibility of backing off a cliff, is that you can’t see anybody coming, ahead or behind! Aaghh!! What I had to do instead was listen, believe a high-speed quiet car could stop in time, then risk it. So far, so good.
P.S. the turn Dad taught me was how to do a 360 (or almost) in the old ’58 VW on snow or in the gravel. You know, whip the wheel around and yank the hand brake. Worked like a charm on the Beetle. I even used to do it in the Saab.