Devil's Kitchen

[I have abandoned the new blog editor (for your Blogger blogs, see Settings, all the way at the bottom of Basic). The large pictures just don't fit my template.]

For us it was just an anonymous part of Road 16.

Remember the un-named pass? Vince googled around and found a name! It was not marked as such on our maps. In fact, finding route numbers, road numbers and signposts in situ, in general, was sometimes an impossible task. I felt like a Nazi landing in England to find all the names and road signs turned back to front or missing altogether. Small children stoically pointing one in the wrong direction. Invaders not wanted. No roads lead to the capital. Ve vill not vin zis vawr.

But we, happy invaders, were not there to fight, but to drink in, and we did.

It is the Devil's Kitchen. There are no barriers between car and edge of cliffs, and the road is not maintained in winter. In places it is vertiginous, and one thinks of being snowed in and having to eat one's leather gloves before turning to the chilled person in the passenger seat, with a hungry look.

There is one real stopping point and the view is stunning, back towards the meeting of two mountains, pictured in a previous post.

We feel very lucky to have found it, and we found more besides. Including Dixie Fried Chicken and the most beautiful picnic spot not discovered quite in time. But that will be another story...