The Runaways of the Hairpin

That sharp bend you're taking — the Hairpin Turn — has been thrilling and terrifying drivers since the day this road opened, and the old restaurant sitting right on the elbow of it, the Golden Eagle, has had a front-row seat to all of it since nineteen fourteen.

Picture the early days. The road's brand new, the cars are flimsy, the brakes are worse, and here comes a whole mountain of downgrade funneling every vehicle straight into a corner that doubles back on itself like a snake. It was a spectacle. Folks would drive up on a Sunday just to sit at the Golden Eagle, sip a coffee, and watch the flatlanders come white-faced around the bend.

But it wasn't all fun. The real fear on a turn like this was the runaway — a heavy truck coming down off the summit with its brakes cooked, no way to make the corner. And it happened. One autumn, back in the nineteen fifties, two different runaway tractor-trailers, just weeks apart, missed this turn and came crashing right through the gift shop. Nobody killed, by grace, but they rebuilt that corner of the building tucked back into the cliff itself so the next runaway would slam into solid rock instead of the dining room. And it worked. It's stood safe ever since.

So take it slow, gear down, and enjoy the view the sane way. But when you roll past the Golden Eagle, give it a nod. That old building has watched a hundred years of people meet this mountain — and it's got the dents to prove it.