From The New Yorker · Peter Hessler · · 6m
America's deadliest road resists all fixes
The Million Dollar Highway kills regularly, but locals and officials accept the danger as part of life in the mountains.
In brief
The Million Dollar Highway kills regularly, but locals and officials accept the danger as part of life in the mountains. Despite decades of deaths and injuries, the Million Dollar Highway remains unfixed because of cost, local culture, and acceptance of risk as inherent to mountain living. Originally reported by The…
A road built for silver, famous for death
The Million Dollar Highway near Ouray, Colorado was constructed in the 1880s to serve silver and gold mines. Today it's known as one of America's most dangerous roads, with sheer drops exceeding 400 feet and no guardrails.
Dangerous and beautiful, all at once
USA Today listed the Million Dollar Highway on both its "World's Most Dangerous Roads" and "10 Best Bucket-List Road Trips" lists. The county coroner calls it an "attractive nuisance" that draws tourists seeking thrills.
People drive off deliberately

Some deaths are suicides. A woman from the Netherlands drove repeatedly up and down the highway before choosing a dramatic drop-off. Others have argued with passengers, pulled over, and accelerated straight off the edge.
A silver Honda vanishes in reverse
In August 2024, tourist Adam Hynes spotted a silver Honda Civic driving backward on a treacherous section. When he rounded a bend, the car was gone. Using a drone, Hynes found it 320 feet below, upside down in the river.
Rescuers find a survivor in the wreckage
Ouray Mountain Rescue team members Jeff Skoloda and Tim Pasek rappelled to the Honda and heard screaming. Inside was an eleven-year-old girl named Rachelle, trapped upside down by her seat belt, suspended above her great-grandmother's body.
“Can you feel that?”
Building a four-hundred-foot crane
The hillside was too steep to carry a litter up, and a helicopter couldn't fit in the narrow airspace. Rescuers constructed a Kootenay Highline System with a Norwegian reeve, using tensioned ropes and pulleys to lift Rachelle 400 feet to the road.
Otto Mears built the impossible road
In 1883, Otto Mears, a Jewish Russian émigré, contracted to build a road through the gorge that government surveyors said was impossible. Workers suspended by ropes drilled holes in 800-foot cliffs and packed them with dynamite.
Mears profited from every angle
Mears opened the road in less than six months and collected over $100,000 in tolls in a single year. He later sold the road to the town, purchased stock in a nearby silver mine that paid 45% annual dividends, and even charged the Utes tolls as they were forced out.
The name's origin remains a mystery
The road became known as the Million Dollar Highway in the early 1900s. It may refer to road improvements costing about $1 million in the 1920s, or to the spectacular views. Mears died at 91, reportedly with his ashes scattered on the road.
Rachelle survives the unsurvivable
Rescuers transported Rachelle via the rope system to a waiting helicopter. She had serious injuries to her pelvis and arm but remained conscious throughout. The children's book found in the debris was placed in her litter during evacuation.
The driver was severely impaired
The Honda's driver, Rachelle's uncle and legal guardian, had 195 nanograms of THC per milliliter in his blood, nearly 40 times Colorado's legal driving limit. He and Rachelle's great-grandmother died in the crash.
Miracle Gully defies the odds
In 2005, Joe Sullivan's minivan went off a 400-foot cliff in heavy snow. His family of six walked out with only minor injuries. Two other vehicles have since crashed at the same spot with similar results, suggesting the snow cushions the descent.
“I'm sorry, we're going off.”
Avalanches kill more than vehicles
From 1950 to 1991, 58 vehicles were caught by avalanches below Red Mountain Pass, more than five times any other Colorado mountain highway. The notorious East Riverside slide killed five people in 15 years, including two snowplow drivers.
A snowshed built too short
After many delays, Colorado built a concrete snowshed above East Riverside in 1985, but it was only 180 feet long, less than one-sixth of the proposed distance. The plan to extend it was never funded.
Two men buried in the snow
In March 1992, East Riverside ran despite the snowshed, burying two plow drivers. Eddie Imel died of hypothermia after 15 hours. His partner Danny Jaramillo kicked out the front window and tunneled up through 10 feet of hard-packed snow to survive.
The snowshed was never extended
After Imel's death, over 1,600 citizens petitioned for better protection and the local newspaper demanded the promised 1,200-foot shed be completed. Colorado improved avalanche forecasting, but the snowshed remains unchanged with no plans to extend it.
Swiss expert: this would never happen here
Avalanche expert Manuel Genswein says the road should have tunnels, guardrails, and rockfall mitigation like European roads. He's amazed people accept these risks and notes that after Switzerland's 1950-51 "Winter of Terror," it improved road safety regardless of cost.
Guardrails cost too much, officials say
Colorado Department of Transportation director Julie Constan says widening the road enough for guardrails would cost 30 to 50 million dollars per mile. She notes locals aren't complaining, so there's no pressure to make expensive changes.
Self-reliance trumps safety measures
Local culture emphasizes personal responsibility and self-reliance. Residents believe drivers should adjust behavior to match the road's risks. Officials dismiss guardrails as false security, arguing education about safe driving is the better approach.
Rachelle recovers, but carries the weight
Months after the crash, Rachelle was living with her aunt in New Mexico, completing sixth grade. She spoke calmly about the accident with remarkable detail, showing no emotion. She still had the children's book Pasek found in the debris.
“We hit a bump. That was half of the car going off the cliff.”
The big picture
Despite decades of deaths and injuries, the Million Dollar Highway remains unfixed because of cost, local culture, and acceptance of risk as inherent to mountain living.




