What the air does out here
The Cold Fork runs under the highway at Mile 2, and the coldest air on the flats belongs to it. The bridge is low concrete, the water is last winter coming down off the mountains, and the dawn mist drifts crisp with a little cedar off the far bank. This is the original aftershave, moving water.
Who rides with it
Fishermen who come for the standing, not the fish. Anyone who takes the bridge slow just to feel the temperature drop. Ridden by men who claim they do not have a scent, which is exactly what this one smells like.
Pair it at the next stop
Night Ice waits at Mile 68, way up in High Timber, where the same cold picks up citrus and woods and a later hour. The distance is the point. This road keeps going.