For instance you are probably aware that there is some postcard scenery near Abiquiu, NM. The movie, City Slickers, was shot near here; and before that, what's-her-name did a lot of painting here, with the topography sometimes serving as inspiration.
So I took off on a mountain bike ride along the cliff edge. How nice that the road followed the edge for a couple miles! When the main road finally left the cliff, I tried to return to it by opting for smaller and smaller roads. Eventually there was no road at all, except for the faintest linear vacuity perhaps left from some firewood cutting long ago. There was also more sky showing through the trees, as there always is near a cliff or saddle.
There is always that magical moment in the fainting away of a trail when it becomes immaterial, and when you finally realize that you are just imagining it. It is a slow moving and non-slapstick version of the classic cartoon image of the Coyote running out over the edge of the cliff before he finally senses that something is wrong and then looks down. The experience is even tastier if you hear a little voice whispering to you that maybe you really aren't supposed to be here.
I was tempted to lean the mountain bike against a ponderosa and walk on. But it's surprisingly easy to lose a bike that way. So Coffee Girl, the bike, and I plowed through oak scrub as we stubbornly aimed at a cliff that was still only a possibility.
Finally the viewscape opened up:
Perhaps I'll even drop in down there for a closer look if I'm in the neighborhood. But there will probably be fees, nature-nazi regulations, rangers with guns on their hips, and crowds of windshield-tourists looking for a paved parking lot and a gift shop with what's-her-names paintings for sale.
Good luck should be enjoyed, but I'm not going to get over-confident and expect this to happen the next time. Probing forest roads with the bike (or towed or detached tow vehicle) is a necessary step when you are a dispersed camper.