The Hike
Timothy O'Brien never expected to find himself in such circumstances. Whoever would? He paused on the narrow path on the side of the gray granite mountain, the wind pressing on his backside as if it wished to push him to his death on the ragged rocks half a kilometer below. A sound caught his attention over the rush of wind.....
At first he thought he knew what it was, a small animal moving through the bushes on the ledge just below where he stood, but as it grew louder he realized it was coming from above. It sounded like many irregular hoofbeats, the sound a herd of horses or even buffalo would make running in a panic. He leaned harder against the rock away from the sheer drop on the other side of the path as the sound grew louder and louder. Suddenly he was horrified when he realized he cause of the sound. It was an avalanche of rock plummeting down the mountainside above him.
He realized how exposed he was on the narrow ledge with no protection above. Thinking quickly in that time slowing pace of near panic, Tim remembered passing a deep indent in the path with a substantial protective overhang. He hurried back toward the safe haven as quickly as he dared on the narrow path. If only he could make it in time. Small rocks, dislodged by the vibrations from the approaching mass of plummeting rock began pelting him as he ran. “God! How far back was that spot?” he thought as he rounded bend after bend without seeing the safe haven.
Finally! There it was on the opposite side of a deep ravine that cut back into the mountain. He immediately knew it was much too far to reach in time. Then he noticed a narrow break in the rocks just beneath the path about fifteen feet in front of him. By then the small rocks dislodged by the earth-shaking deluge far above were falling more often and getting bigger. One hit his arm and drew blood - then another. He ran to the edge above the break looking for a way to get himself into the crack. It would be very difficult. One slip and he would drop to the jagged rocks below. A huge boulder bounced on the path a few feet from where he clung and he knew the main part of the avalanche would soon be smashing into him.
Grabbing a small rock hand hold on the edge of the path he rolled over the edge and into the crack. Suddenly he was dangling in space inside the crack, supported only by the handhold. He searched the sides of the crack for another handhold or foot support. The sides of the crack were smooth. Then he realized the crack narrowed both downward and inward. If he could swing far enough in he would be able to jam himself into the crack and hold himself there by pressing against the sides. After swinging several times to gain momentum he prayed and let go as he swung inward. Just as he let go a huge piece of rock smashed on the rock he had just been holding, smashing it and a piece of the path into small pieces, showering the area with small, jagged projectiles. He was now deep inside the crack, but slipping downward. He dropped at least twenty feet before he was able to stem his fall by jamming his legs against one wall and his back the other. He was about ten feet inside the crack and under the path when the massive avalanche crashed onto the path where he had stood just moments before.
The mountain shook, dust filled the air and the sound was deafening as the main part of the avalanche thundered by just a few feet from his refuge. Suddenly he couldn’t breath because of dust whirled at him by the air blast from the avalanche. He used his free hand to pull his shirt out and over his face as a filter to keep the dust out of his lungs and eyes. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible and the shirt kept the choking dust out. “How long would the thundering continue?” he wondered. Then he felt himself slipping and pressed harder with his legs, jamming himself tighter. “Would the thundering never stop?” he wondered. Suddenly everything began quieting down. The thundering was rapidly moving down the mountain and the dust was settling. He slowly eased his shirt off his face and surveyed the scene before him. There was still a pall of fine dust in the air and an occasional small rock plunged off the shelf above him, but at least he was still alive. Looking up about thirty feet he noticed the crack was now open at the top. The avalanche had obliterated the path that capped the crack. He wondered how much of the path still traversed the mountainside and if he could use it to get down the mountain.
His legs were beginning to ache from pressing so hard against the sides of the crack. He would have to move into the narrower section of the crack and jam himself in so he could rest his legs or they would eventually give out. It took him about fifteen minutes to move far enough into the crack so he could wedge his hips and rest his legs. As he relaxed a bit he began examining his body. Blood oozed from several cuts on his arms and legs and when he wiped his forehead his hand came away quite bloody. Fortunately he was not losing much blood, just a bloody mess of small cuts and abrasions.
As he rested, Tim considered his predicament and options. “At least Alicia wasn’t with me so she was safe. By now she would be frantic and asking for help. Surely the avalanche was big enough and near enough to alert people back at the lodge and Alicia would be after them to find me. Well, I might as well start finding a way out. Any help is surely hours away.”
With that thought Tim decided he should work his way up the crack, keeping to the narrowest part so he could rest periodically. After about an hour he was only five feet below the open top of the crack. Unfortunately the crack narrowed at that point in such a way that his only way up was out beneath an overhang with a long drop below. One slip and he would fall at least a hundred feet. He decided to rest for awhile to prepare for the exertion he was about to have to make.
Fortunately his hiking boots were very strong so he decided to use them to grip the narrow portion of the crack as he worked his way out almost upside down. He jammed one boot into the crack and swung the other around and jammed it into the crack about three feet ahead of the other. Four maneuvers like that and he should be able to reach the top with his hands and pull himself up. It would be difficult, but doable. Each maneuver took him farther away from the wall, hanging above a huge drop. If he missed . . . well he just couldn’t. After the fourth maneuver his feet were jammed into the crack just a foot from the top. He would rest again for the final move where he would fold his body forward and reach for the top with his right hand. Once he had a hold he could release his farthest foot and pull himself onto the path. It had taken him nearly three hours to get this far and he wasn’t taking any more chances than he had to.
After resting for about fifteen minutes, Tim started making his move. He bent forward as far as he could and reached for the edge. It was just a few inches out of his reach. Carefully he repositioned his feet to get a bit closer. Once more he bent up and reached for the edge. A third try provided a precarious hold as his fingers finally caught the edge. He worked his hand around the edge until he found a decent hold and began to release his left foot for the final move. Once it was released there was no way to put it back. He would be holding on by one foot jammed into the crack and a very precarious hold on rather smooth rock with his right hand. He couldn’t move far enough into the narrow part of the crack to jam his torso without releasing his other foot. That would leave him dangling with but one tenuous hand hold as he swung his other hand up to search for another hold. If there wasn’t one, he was done for and he couldn’t see where he had to reach.
He took a deep breath, released his other foothold and quickly reached over the edge of the crack with his left hand searching with his fingers for any projection or small opening he could catch with even one finger. With his elbows over the edge of the crack he held for an instant, but knew he must find a hold or he would slip off the edge. Frantically his fingers probed the smooth surface searching in vain for anything to hold. Suddenly his right hand began losing its grip and began slowly sliding toward the edge. He was losing it, “Damn!” he said out loud. In a few seconds he would be waiting for that crushing pain as his body hit the rocks below. He thought of Alicia. “Damn! I hate losing!”
As his slipping gained speed it seemed as if time was slowing down. Was he imagining things or had he heard a voice from above him. His left arm suddenly slipped off and he hung for a moment with one hand. As his grip began ever so slowly to slip he knew it was all over. He was astonished when he didn’t fall. Something had snapped around his wrist just before his hand could slip over the side. He looked up to see two faces above him Jack had grabbed Tim’s hand just before it disappeared from sight. He had ropes and was secured by them to others on the path.
“Hang on there ole buddy.” Jack said as he reached down with his other hand and grabbed Tim’s left. Slowly they pulled him up over the edge to safety. As soon as he was safely on the ledge Alicia was sobbing and holding him like she would never let go.
Back at the lodge, showered, cleaned and patched up, Tim sat with Alicia and his friends and ran through the days adventure. Alicia wouldn’t let him out of her arms.
Jack reported, “This gal of yours was a whirlwind when we heard the avalanche. It was less than a mile from the lodge and when we heard it she shouted, ‘Tim!’ and got us going right away. We were headed up the mountain before the avalanche stopped, I swear.”
Rory added. “She ran up that mountain like a mountain goat. We had a hard time keeping up with her.”
“Don’t you ever go anywhere like that without me.” Alicia ordered, her dark eyes flashing.
“I don’t plan to.” Tim smiled thinking what a lucky guy he was.
At first he thought he knew what it was, a small animal moving through the bushes on the ledge just below where he stood, but as it grew louder he realized it was coming from above. It sounded like many irregular hoofbeats, the sound a herd of horses or even buffalo would make running in a panic. He leaned harder against the rock away from the sheer drop on the other side of the path as the sound grew louder and louder. Suddenly he was horrified when he realized he cause of the sound. It was an avalanche of rock plummeting down the mountainside above him.
He realized how exposed he was on the narrow ledge with no protection above. Thinking quickly in that time slowing pace of near panic, Tim remembered passing a deep indent in the path with a substantial protective overhang. He hurried back toward the safe haven as quickly as he dared on the narrow path. If only he could make it in time. Small rocks, dislodged by the vibrations from the approaching mass of plummeting rock began pelting him as he ran. “God! How far back was that spot?” he thought as he rounded bend after bend without seeing the safe haven.
Finally! There it was on the opposite side of a deep ravine that cut back into the mountain. He immediately knew it was much too far to reach in time. Then he noticed a narrow break in the rocks just beneath the path about fifteen feet in front of him. By then the small rocks dislodged by the earth-shaking deluge far above were falling more often and getting bigger. One hit his arm and drew blood - then another. He ran to the edge above the break looking for a way to get himself into the crack. It would be very difficult. One slip and he would drop to the jagged rocks below. A huge boulder bounced on the path a few feet from where he clung and he knew the main part of the avalanche would soon be smashing into him.
Grabbing a small rock hand hold on the edge of the path he rolled over the edge and into the crack. Suddenly he was dangling in space inside the crack, supported only by the handhold. He searched the sides of the crack for another handhold or foot support. The sides of the crack were smooth. Then he realized the crack narrowed both downward and inward. If he could swing far enough in he would be able to jam himself into the crack and hold himself there by pressing against the sides. After swinging several times to gain momentum he prayed and let go as he swung inward. Just as he let go a huge piece of rock smashed on the rock he had just been holding, smashing it and a piece of the path into small pieces, showering the area with small, jagged projectiles. He was now deep inside the crack, but slipping downward. He dropped at least twenty feet before he was able to stem his fall by jamming his legs against one wall and his back the other. He was about ten feet inside the crack and under the path when the massive avalanche crashed onto the path where he had stood just moments before.
The mountain shook, dust filled the air and the sound was deafening as the main part of the avalanche thundered by just a few feet from his refuge. Suddenly he couldn’t breath because of dust whirled at him by the air blast from the avalanche. He used his free hand to pull his shirt out and over his face as a filter to keep the dust out of his lungs and eyes. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible and the shirt kept the choking dust out. “How long would the thundering continue?” he wondered. Then he felt himself slipping and pressed harder with his legs, jamming himself tighter. “Would the thundering never stop?” he wondered. Suddenly everything began quieting down. The thundering was rapidly moving down the mountain and the dust was settling. He slowly eased his shirt off his face and surveyed the scene before him. There was still a pall of fine dust in the air and an occasional small rock plunged off the shelf above him, but at least he was still alive. Looking up about thirty feet he noticed the crack was now open at the top. The avalanche had obliterated the path that capped the crack. He wondered how much of the path still traversed the mountainside and if he could use it to get down the mountain.
His legs were beginning to ache from pressing so hard against the sides of the crack. He would have to move into the narrower section of the crack and jam himself in so he could rest his legs or they would eventually give out. It took him about fifteen minutes to move far enough into the crack so he could wedge his hips and rest his legs. As he relaxed a bit he began examining his body. Blood oozed from several cuts on his arms and legs and when he wiped his forehead his hand came away quite bloody. Fortunately he was not losing much blood, just a bloody mess of small cuts and abrasions.
As he rested, Tim considered his predicament and options. “At least Alicia wasn’t with me so she was safe. By now she would be frantic and asking for help. Surely the avalanche was big enough and near enough to alert people back at the lodge and Alicia would be after them to find me. Well, I might as well start finding a way out. Any help is surely hours away.”
With that thought Tim decided he should work his way up the crack, keeping to the narrowest part so he could rest periodically. After about an hour he was only five feet below the open top of the crack. Unfortunately the crack narrowed at that point in such a way that his only way up was out beneath an overhang with a long drop below. One slip and he would fall at least a hundred feet. He decided to rest for awhile to prepare for the exertion he was about to have to make.
Fortunately his hiking boots were very strong so he decided to use them to grip the narrow portion of the crack as he worked his way out almost upside down. He jammed one boot into the crack and swung the other around and jammed it into the crack about three feet ahead of the other. Four maneuvers like that and he should be able to reach the top with his hands and pull himself up. It would be difficult, but doable. Each maneuver took him farther away from the wall, hanging above a huge drop. If he missed . . . well he just couldn’t. After the fourth maneuver his feet were jammed into the crack just a foot from the top. He would rest again for the final move where he would fold his body forward and reach for the top with his right hand. Once he had a hold he could release his farthest foot and pull himself onto the path. It had taken him nearly three hours to get this far and he wasn’t taking any more chances than he had to.
After resting for about fifteen minutes, Tim started making his move. He bent forward as far as he could and reached for the edge. It was just a few inches out of his reach. Carefully he repositioned his feet to get a bit closer. Once more he bent up and reached for the edge. A third try provided a precarious hold as his fingers finally caught the edge. He worked his hand around the edge until he found a decent hold and began to release his left foot for the final move. Once it was released there was no way to put it back. He would be holding on by one foot jammed into the crack and a very precarious hold on rather smooth rock with his right hand. He couldn’t move far enough into the narrow part of the crack to jam his torso without releasing his other foot. That would leave him dangling with but one tenuous hand hold as he swung his other hand up to search for another hold. If there wasn’t one, he was done for and he couldn’t see where he had to reach.
He took a deep breath, released his other foothold and quickly reached over the edge of the crack with his left hand searching with his fingers for any projection or small opening he could catch with even one finger. With his elbows over the edge of the crack he held for an instant, but knew he must find a hold or he would slip off the edge. Frantically his fingers probed the smooth surface searching in vain for anything to hold. Suddenly his right hand began losing its grip and began slowly sliding toward the edge. He was losing it, “Damn!” he said out loud. In a few seconds he would be waiting for that crushing pain as his body hit the rocks below. He thought of Alicia. “Damn! I hate losing!”
As his slipping gained speed it seemed as if time was slowing down. Was he imagining things or had he heard a voice from above him. His left arm suddenly slipped off and he hung for a moment with one hand. As his grip began ever so slowly to slip he knew it was all over. He was astonished when he didn’t fall. Something had snapped around his wrist just before his hand could slip over the side. He looked up to see two faces above him Jack had grabbed Tim’s hand just before it disappeared from sight. He had ropes and was secured by them to others on the path.
“Hang on there ole buddy.” Jack said as he reached down with his other hand and grabbed Tim’s left. Slowly they pulled him up over the edge to safety. As soon as he was safely on the ledge Alicia was sobbing and holding him like she would never let go.
Back at the lodge, showered, cleaned and patched up, Tim sat with Alicia and his friends and ran through the days adventure. Alicia wouldn’t let him out of her arms.
Jack reported, “This gal of yours was a whirlwind when we heard the avalanche. It was less than a mile from the lodge and when we heard it she shouted, ‘Tim!’ and got us going right away. We were headed up the mountain before the avalanche stopped, I swear.”
Rory added. “She ran up that mountain like a mountain goat. We had a hard time keeping up with her.”
“Don’t you ever go anywhere like that without me.” Alicia ordered, her dark eyes flashing.
“I don’t plan to.” Tim smiled thinking what a lucky guy he was.
____________________________________
Labels: Written: 10/17/06
posted by HoJo | 9:10 AM
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