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Covering all of the park ’ s roads is fairly easy . Getting out is another matter . To the south , forest fires are raging . To the north , there ’ s a madman threatening to shoot any motorist who crosses his path . I choose trial by fire , which turns out to be not so bad . A 10-minute queue enables me to worm my way to the front and enjoy an unmolested 47-mile gallop across White ’ s Pass . In classic tortoise / hare fashion , all the vehicles — even the 30-year-old Peterbilt — catch me at the subsequent roadblock , in the Tieton River Canyon . The temperature here is 30 degrees higher than at Sunrise , and a roseate sky is settling over basalt cliffs wrapped in sage and cottonwood trees . To my eyes it looks more like Mexico than the Pacific Northwest , but as I said , I know too little of this part of the world .
The firemen give us the signal and one by one we file behind the guide truck . There ’ s a little sliver of a moon above the canyon , and on both sides the trees are ablaze . The mighty Honda has carried me through fire and ice in the same trip . In all honesty , I don ’ t think my beloved Duck would have made it .