>The road drops out from beneath us.
The wiper blades squeak and the radio lost all signal twenty miles ago. There are no vehicles on the road but ours and the occasional pickup hauling bales of hay. Up ahead– thunderstorms and the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness. The best way to get there is to follow the dotted lines on a map painted on the side of a brick building in the small mountain town you passed through sixty miles ago.