The road has been paved, a few kilometres every year, so that now we drive comfortably on pavement up to the edge of Tweedsmuir Park, and then it's a mere 60 kilometres of dust before we reach the valley floor and pavement again.
Still, the memory persists, and the bridge at Green River promises some relief from dust, dust, dust. Coming and going, I always stop for a few minutes.
|It's a gentle river, shallow and slow; the better to green up its surroundings.|
|Rock and reflections|
|View from the other side of the bridge.|
|In the shallow water, green speckled fish (trout?) hover over the silt.|
|Pine cone and needles|