Late afternoon, and the desert had given way to rolling hills and scrub brush. They stopped for a fill-up at a small station at the foot of where the real mountains begin. The attendant told them they were the first people he'd seen in a few days. It was spring, and the roads to the Refuge, he warned them, could be spotty, what with the rains, so there wasn't much tourist activity yet. When Nick went in to see what the "store" part of the station had in the way of beverages he noted a preponderance of dust on most of the merchandise. The bottled water looked safe enough and he grabbed a couple out of the fridge, an offering to his boss and an attempt to continue the good will vibes he'd been working on.
As the Denali wound its way up the mountains Nick found it ironic that now that there was so much to look at around them, he had to concentrate on the road. As they got higher they could catch glimpses of deep canyons and a large alkaline lake surrounded by marshes. The music had long ended but neither of them felt a need to put anything else on; their surroundings were more than enough to occupy them. The scrub of the lowlands was now being replaced by copses of aspen trees and even mahogany trees. The roads were narrow and off to their side there was often a steep drop-off. You could see where the rains had washed away at the road edges in places.
They were looking for their next turn-off and both had their eyes peeled for some kind of signage. A small wooden sign with an arrow and the words "Sheldon Refuge" tool-burned into it came up quickly and Nick braked and swooped into their turn, eliciting another cocked eyebrow from his co-pilot.
"Nice driving, Mario," Grissom said dryly. "I know this is an SUV, but that doesn't mean we have to go off roading in it."
Nick just grinned sheepishly and kept his eyes to the road.
………..
A half hour or so later they had begun to reach the summit of one of the bigger mountains. The substation couldn't be more than a few miles away they figured. The road was narrow and treacherous and to the other side was another deep canyon. The rains had done a number on this piece of road and the guide rails, where they existed, were rusty and leaning in places. Unfortunately, Nick had to drive at a decent clip just to keep the lumbering truck moving upwards and onwards.
"Grissom. This Mapquest is useless. Have you ever been up here? Any idea how close we are?" Nick asked, a small amount of nervousness slipping into his voice.
"No. But this is a national refuge, and tourists do come here, so I can't imagine it could be too hard to find, Nick," Grissom said, a small amount of patronization slipping into his voice. He was actually a bit concerned about the state of the road himself, but he would never let the younger man know it.
They began to round another bend when a "Bang!" was heard, then a heartbeat later a second much louder "Bang!" as the front tire of the Denali exploded. Nick hung onto the wheel, attempting to keep it on the road but their speed and the crumbly shoulder was fighting against him. The last thing he thought of as they went over the side was Grissom joking about going off road.