What the air does out here
The road tops out at a stand of evergreens somebody decorates every winter. Dried orange slices, clove bundles, cinnamon tied along the low boughs, officially for the birds and unofficially for everybody, and the whole grove breathes evergreen, orange, and clove. Past the last trunk the shoulder drops away, and there it is, the first long look at Big Dusk Country, the light out there already leaning toward evening.
Who rides with it
December people, back again like they never left the road. The garland stringers, unnamed and unbothered. Drivers who pull over for the view and miss the decorations entirely. The grove gets strung every year for a holiday the trees were already dressed for.
Pair it at the next stop
This pays the night shift's promise: Vanilla Bean Noel at Mile 58 said the season leaves the oven for the trees, and the grove keeps its word. High Timber ends at this crest having charged for nothing but the jelly. Downhill, the first marker of Big Dusk Country is already cooking: Apple Maple Bourbon, Mile 72.
A gravel road leaves the highway at this marker: The Cabin Road Past the Grove, one climbing mile, snow after the last decorated trunk, ends at a candle.