Cracks zigzag across the surface, potholes become more frequent and sharp, tire-ripping edges protrude from the pavement. A few miles into the area, a shrine memorializes an accident victim. A cross, scattered liquor bottles, soda cans and a stuffed green frog decorate rocks arranged in a rectangle. Something about the drop in altitude and warm coastal air pushing against cold air from the two mauna triggers fog so thick that seeing beyond the hood of a car becomes impossible. Only the yellow line on the loopy road is visible through the area where one-lane bridges seem most abundant.
Cars crawl along slowly, headlights bouncing of the haze.
Just as quickly as it formed, the fog dissolves, unveiling dry, high pasture lands spreading in contrast toward the deep-green Kohala Mountains and the sea. Stands of trees welcome the eyes after miles of scrub and lava. At the same time, the road surface deteriorates even further, jouncing suspensions and jarring teeth. Suddenly, there's a stop sign. The Saddle ride is over.