It was the UK's only single-carriageway motorway, and twenty years ago it ceased to exist. This is the story of the strange fascination it held, and of my place in history.
It crosses cattle grids and untamed moorland, it climbs 1-in-4 hills and plummets through hairpin bends, it runs single-track through woodland and historic villages. It's rugged and beautiful. Is it really the A39?