CHAPTER SEVEN - Impaled
Candy had a really big scrape on her elbows and she said her butt was pretty sore, but other than the embarrassment of falling over the edge, she looked to be in good shape. Lance mentioned repeatedly how he was able to haul us both up the cliff face. I let the obvious go unsaid.
We caught our breaths on the cliff face while laughing about Candy's slip over the edge. Once the danger had passed, it was a source of good natured kidding between us. We found ourselves sitting side-by-side, legs swinging in the breeze over the edge. Lance just a bit further back then Candy and I. With our breathing returning to normal and eyes adjusting to the darkness we lapsed into periods of quiet … only the occasional gust of wind rustling the stunted juniper boughs behind us breaking the silence.
"Let me take a look at that," Lance said. He held her elbow to the flashlight for a better view. I tried to keep from looking into the light to avoid destroying my night vision. Tenderly, he removed some dirt and moss from the scrape. I noticed she glanced up gazing into his face on a couple of occasions. This may be trouble.
Candy took advantage of one moment of quiet, looked over in my direction and said, "Thanks for coming down to get me. That really scared me." Her hand was resting on my forearm and she gave it a little squeeze. "I doubt if my own husband woulda come down after me."
Her voice trailed off to nothing at the last words of her statement, leaving me with a sense of her frustration. I picked up on it several times around the campfire - then with her hiking up here in the dark with Lance, I put it together. They're not doing so well.
"Are you guys doing OK?"
At first I thought she didn't hear me and nearly repeated the question, but her heavy sigh, and her throat clearing told me she was just formulating a reply. "No."
No? I suppose I should have delved a little deeper into it, but I wasn't real comfortable about this whole thing as it was. I'm all for the Knight in Shining Armor thing, and giving a sympathetic ear, and all those other gallant things a guy does at this point. I don't know if that usually is to assure the lady how desirable she really is, or make her feel good about herself, or seduce her in her moment of weakness. But… fer-chrissakes, I wasn't gonna get into that up here with Lance nearby or with her old man in camp - hopefully asleep and unaware that she was up here.
I let it drop, and thankfully so did she.
Within 10 minutes of sitting still on the granite rock enjoying the view, I could see their squirming and re-adjusting increase to the point where it became obvious they didn't come equipped to spend the night on the exposed face of the mountain. I had excused myself and withdrew into the darkness behind us to retie my hammock to the same two trees, telling them I was going to get ready for bed. Within minutes, I had climbed into the sleeping bag. For those of you inexperienced at performing this feat, doing so is a supreme exercise in balance and coordination.
I have perfected the art of laying out the sleeping bag inside the string hammock, unzipped and open on the top. I then place the pillow and any other items you wish to be able to grab within reach on the ground below and straddling the whole affair on your tiptoes. Slowly, I sit atop the strings while spreading them apart and drop into the open bag while swinging suspended, inches above the ground. Then getting the sleeping bad fully stretched out underneath you and zipped around you took another 10 minutes. It's nothing like climbing into a regular hammock!
I found on some trips, when the weather was warm, I'd tie it just low enough so my ass was barely on the ground … enough to keep most of me suspended but scraping the ground enough to keep from swinging.
Once you get into position, though, rolling over in the middle of the night was an exhausting struggle.
I was really cautious about the whole thing, knowing Lance and Candy were watching. I've flipped over doing this on a number of occasions, but I damned sure wasn't going to do that in front of them.
"You guys bring anything to sleep in?" Hell, I knew the answer to that, but wanted to point out that they hadn't.
It was Candy who came over to the hammock, "Not really. We have an extra shirt and gloves, but that's about it."
I peered over and caught Lance's eyes at the edge of the circle of light being cast off from his flashlight. His reaction was that of guy who knew he was unprepared but willing to follow the girl wherever she wanted to go. Accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders and a silly grin. A familiar expression I assure you!
"Well, I've got a little problem with extra room at the moment - you're on your own! Does Chet know you've come up here?"
"Not exactly." Lance said.
"He's sound asleep … doubt he'd be up before morning." Candy added, as she looked at Lance for agreement. I decided to distance myself from this whole conversation and just kept my mouth shut.
I was finally comfortable. Having seen me crawl into my cocoon, apparently for the remainder of the night, they decided they'd had enough scenery for the evening and announced they were heading back. I agreed it was a good decision without sounding too grumpy about it, and wished them a good trip down, which should be considerably easier.
I reached out my hand to Lance and put the pipe in his. "Keep her away from the edges - I'm not doing any more climbing tonight."
It wasn't until after they left that I wondered if they walked or drove to the trailhead. I'd have to assume they wouldn't rat me out if they got busted. Hopefully, the rangers were all fast asleep. That's something these two would have to deal with, I was heading off to sleep myself.
I woke as one very large, very cold and much unexpected raindrop splattered all over the bridge of my nose. The stars I had watched earlier that night had disappeared and replaced by a soft gray light reaching to both horizons. The morning was upon me, but there'd be no watching the sunrise this year, as my previous two years had allowed.
A second drop beaded up on the sleeping bag just below my chin, followed by a third near my foot. It appeared I was in for a miserable trek down the mountain, and without thinking long, decided to get the hell off this rock and onto nearly level ground before the rain made the trail too slippery.
A few jerks on the rope, and my quick-release knot had the hammock on the ground. Anybody who has had to untie a rope after lying in a hammock all night has learned the lesson of a good quick-release knot. With it, my camera, my bag and my pillow all stuffed into a nylon bag, I pocketed what trash I had left behind and began a half-trot over to the trail, and scrambled down.
I had gotten fairly soaked by the time I reached camp. The first thing I looked for, as any biker would, is the chrome and leather of Ol' Huck sitting where I left it the night before. It was a good feeling to see it still there. A friendly curl of smoke betrayed a near-dead fire, as the sky lightened up enough to see my tent. Something looked odd. It appeared a tree was growing out of the center of it.
As I walked down the access road to my camp, I heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled open. I turned to see Candy doubled over, ass-first, backing out of Lance's tent. She turned and quickly scampered over to their campsite and slipped into her tent, without ever looking in my direction. Lance's tent zippered shut from the inside.
I simply shook my head and focused on a more immediate problem. A limb had broken off in the middle of the night and landed pointed-end first, ripping through my fly and tent fabric, impaling itself through the air mattress and floor of the tent, sticking out grotesquely from the top of my favorite dome tent. My North Face Expedition tent I bought for my many backpacking trips through Yellowstone National Park was now history.
I first grasped the limb just above the gaping hole in my fly and pulled it free, tossing it in the woods. Then, untied the fly, reversed it so the hole was over good tent material, and retied it down for the remainder of the storm, now gaining in intensity. Although it was still cold, I removed most of my wet clothing, tossing it in a soggy pile outside my tent door, tossed in the nylon bag containing the sleeping bag and pillow, and wriggled in to inspect the damage and crank up my butane heater.
Very glad that I brought extra towels, I dried and warmed up within minutes. My air mattress was history and extra clothes were half wet on the floor of the tent. While unrolling the sleeping bag to get some extra warmth, I find the digital camera had taken a fatal blow in last nights escape into the bushes, just prior to Candy's slip over the edge. The LCD screen is shattered and the lens broken. Hadn't taken many pictures this trip yet anyway, but it looks like there won't be any more either.
So, there I sat, cross-legged in my wounded tent. Digital camera dead, clothes wet, air mattress flat, cold, and it's only about 7am on my second day. This is not gonna be a good trip.
Fortunately, I find some Cheese Danish and a small bottle of OJ in the inside tent pockets - an old habit of mine; having something on hand in the tent for breakfast. After a brief hanging of my head in depression, I get my camp pot full of water and prepare for some instant coffee … not fresh brewed, but coffee of any variety will make the day seem better.
Heating the tent with my butane cookstove isn't the brightest thing to do, but hot coffee in the tent makes it worth the risk. Within minutes, I am lying back on my sleeping bag, coffee sitting on my chest warming my hands and I'm thinking about the rest of the day.
My attention turned from visions of packing a wet tent and heading home to the sounds of life from across the campsite. Several Good Morning's were heard through my tent fabric and it became obvious both Chet and Candy were up and out and Lance had gone over to their campsite. I figured this was going to be an interesting morning. The sounds of a crackling fire and wood being thrown onto the fire brought me out of my daydreams. May as well head out to see what was going on and pout with someone over my misfortunes.
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