89A curves and winds through Jerome and on up Mingus Mountain.
Once at the top, I turned, as directed, left. After a bit I got out to check the temp. Hit whar downright chilly...and only 8pm, but the REAL problem was the elevation; I start having trouble (breathing) around 6400' and this wuz 7300.
Later, in a concession to plain ole tiredness, hit whar 'round 9pm, ah maid camp in the large turnout on the west side of the Prescott Ntl Forest sign (6300').
Not more'n uh hour later, around 10:00 or so, the Lamborghinis, Lotuses and Porsches (theyz allus capitalized, donchyaknow) started going by. Yew kin tell the brand by their sound which, in most cases is relatively -- relative to a lame-ass Mustang -- quiet. (Real power don't need no freakin' noise!)
I read for an hour, and with 'em still whizzing by, took a sleep aid.
Around 6:00 a.m. the commuters started down. They too were surprisingly quiet, but I was so close to the road sleep was impossible.
As I was leaving I discovered a road almost perzackly acrosst the street that went down and into the National Forest. Hit woulda bin a MUCH nicer place, but hit whar impossible tuh see in thuh dark. Next time!
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