She finally reached the peak. The view was spectacular; if , she could see allforty-five miles of tumbling green wilderness between her and Leadville. But she didn’t evenpause for a slurp of water. She had an ace in her hand, and she had to play it now. She was woozyfrom the thin air and her hamstrings were screaming, but Ann pushed straight over the top andstarted chop-stepping downhill.

This was a Trason specialty: using terrain to recharge on the move. After a steep first drop, thebackside descent quickly softens into long, gently sloped switchbacks, so Ann could lean back,make her legs go limp, and let gravity do the work. After a bit, she could feel the knots easing inher calves and the strength creeping back into her thighs. By the time she reached bottom, her headwas up and the glint was back in her cougar eyes.

Time to fire the jets. Ann veered off the muddy trail and onto hard-packed road, her legs spinningfast and loose from the hip as she accelerated into the last three miles to the turnaround a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind .