Fly Drive Loop of Northwest U.S.A.

Speechless we stared into a valley a thousand feet or so below us. There between the dappled sunlight, which came down in late afternoon shafts, was a strangely private looking scene of outstanding natural beauty, with deer grazing happily. It was like looking back into another time or, more specifically, like one of the stories I’d read about when Geronimo took to the mountains and hid from the federal forces in a secret valley.