La Bajada
A world away from the climb of death
when it was the Camino Real
Elegantly smoother than the original 66
Yet it still strikes fear when it snows
Still reaches out to crush the weak
Still stands vast and forbidding
to all pushing North
Ancient volcanic wall
Primordial in its simplicity
Yet when I crest the windswept ridge
And see the lights between me
and the mountains
I know I am home
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