It runs beside a river that has cut deep into the mountain slopes. The upper reaches of the valley are cold and snow-covered, and the river spray leaves frozen maelstroms of abstract art spattered over the rocky banks. As you travel down the road, the weather becomes warmer, and the fresh breezes of spring waft up from the plain below. The valley slopes above you are now covered with dry scrub, and the long dead grass whispers quiet secrets, too soft for you to hear. The river falls away into a gorge for a time, and the road winds precariously along the cliff edge above it.
Some travelers stop here, entranced by the beauty and power of the tumbling water below.
Below the gorge the river widens and valley starts to spread out. Side paths begin to appear off the road, and sometimes travelers turn up them. Some side-paths lead through wildly fascinating groves of trees and flowers that entrance the eye. Some are just hard slogging, rough and unrewarding. Many travelers who go down the side paths never return, but a few push on along each to the end, and find themselves back on the road to truth.