Morning light brought clearing and calm. Though the mountaintops and sky remained covered by haze, the surrounding landscape was vibrantly beautiful. It was now or never. Cassiopia gathered her things and slipped out without waking Markman. She tied off one end of her sixty-foot wire rope to the engine of the aircraft, went as close as she dared to the edge, and cast the remaining coil over the side. Removing the tarp from the front of the shelter, she overcame a moment of doubt and dropped it over the cliff.
With her friction hitch fastened to the rope, she maneuvered onto her stomach, and wiggled and pushed herself backward toward the drop-off. Holding dearly to the rope, her legs gradually slipped over the ledge. Panic set in, but with a few deep breaths, she willed herself down.
Swinging free, she was careful not to look down. With the greatest of care, she worked herself along the line, inches at a time. As her confidence grew and a pattern developed, she descended more quickly and was surprised when her feet finally touched down safely. She brushed herself off, unhooked, and looked up, wondering if the climb back was really possible. Her wire rope swayed and bumped in the light wind, seeming to promise it could be done.
The new area seemed stable. The precious tarp lay crumpled at her feet. With one foot, she piled snow on it to secure it. The ledge was at least six feet wide but folded over into another steep drop-off. It followed along the cliff-face and disappeared around a jagged rock outcrop twenty feet away. It looked wide enough for the sled. Cassiopia let go of her line and cautiously waded through the snow toward the corner, keeping close to the wall for security. At the turn, she continued to hug the wall. The ledge felt solid. Around the rocky corner, she turned to look out over the new panorama.
The landscape was stunning. As far as she could see, rock peaks of all sizes dotted the distance, bordered by snow-covered valleys. Some peaks rose up into the cloud haze, though most were well below it. Within the more distant valleys, crests of snow hid smaller mountains. The Vista was intoxicatingly beautiful but frighteningly bleak. The ledge Cassiopia had followed continued downward. It wrapped around a long, deep section of concave cliff wall, forming a large winding canyon face. In the distance, and well below, it passed back in front of her and disappeared around another corner of black rock. From her position, it looked like a two or three mile downhill hike.
Nevertheless, it was achievable. As difficult as it looked, Cassiopia could not help feeling thankful. Had this path been a dead end, there would have been no hope of getting down. The long, curving path in front of her offered a chance at a much lower altitude, and maybe a chance at getting off the mountain altogether. There was hope.
Not far in front of her, lay something else she had held out hope for. A pile of loose rock was nearly blocking the way. Assured the ledge was safe, she began collecting as many frost-covered stones as she could carry. She trudged back to her wire rope and let them fall to the ground. Opening the tarp, she spread it out near the hanging rope. One by one, she stacked the rocks in the center of the tarp, and then went back for more. As her pile grew, she gathered up the tarp and tested the weight. A few more trips and it seemed like enough. She wrapped the tarp into the shape of a bag and fastened it to the end of her wire rope.
Setting up the friction hitches, she began stepping back up her line, inches at a time. When she had reached the top, she freed her foot and rolled up onto the cliff top. She crawled a safe distance from the edge and stood and brushed herself off.
Inside, Markman was awake. She pulled the cloth shield from her face, went to him and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you?”
“Room still spinning like a bastard. Pisses me off. Headache won’t quit.”
“We’re ready to go.”
“I’ve decided I’m staying. There’s no way you can take me with you. Your best chance is on your own.”
“You’re going. It’ll be a lot easier if you help, but either way, you’re going.”
“Cass, it’s impossible. Don’t you see that? It’s just not possible.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Have you found a trail?”
“Yes. It looks good.”
“What have you done? Have you made me crutches or something?”
“No crutches. You’ve got to stay off your feet. You’re going on a sled.”
“Are you saying you’ve built a sled now?”
“Yes. It’s a good one.”
“Geeez…”
“So, it’s downhill all the way?”
“It’s downhill alright.”
“What do I need to do?”
“We need to get you into the sled. After that, your job will be to lay there and behave.”
Cassiopia left him and moved the sled outside the door, its bottom packed with loose clothes. With his legs again tied securely together, he helped with his arms as she pulled him into the aisle, and dragged him outside. She pushed him in the snow almost onto his front, set the sled on its side directly behind him, and rolled him back into it. He worked himself into the best position as she covered him with clothes. With sections of seat belt, she fastened him tightly in, keeping his arms hanging out and free.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, except the freakin’ white world is spinning like a top now.”
Using her second long wire rope, Cassiopia fastened a handmade hook at one end and used it to lower the bags and supplies down. Markman squinted to understand what she was doing and gradually began to be alarmed. When she returned to the sled, he looked up at her and tried to focus.
“Is that a cliff over there, Cass?”
“Yep.”
“How far down?”
“I’d say about forty feet.”
“You’re going to push me over that cliff, aren’t you?”
“Yep. Do you trust me?”
“That sounds like a trick question. Is it steep?”
“Straight down, almost.”
“I’m one-eighty-eight. You’re not thinking you can lower that much weight, are you?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Yeah, I trust you.”
“Then you’ll see.”
Markman began to summon the Tibetan Tao Chane mental exercises used to prepare for death.
Cassiopia dragged the landing gear wheel to the aircraft engine and fastened it. She fed the hanging sixty-foot wire rope through the wheel, making sure it seated properly. Grabbing the towline on Markman’s sled, she positioned him feet first toward the drop-off, then hooked the sixty-foot line to the front of the sled, making sure the line was as tight as it could be. Using a shorter line, she secured her own body harness to the engine to prevent any chance of slipping over the edge. Back at the sled, she looked affectionately at Markman.
“Are you ready?”
Markman winced. “Are you ready?”
Cassiopia kneeled and pushed the sled toward the cliff edge. As she did, the sixty-foot line pulled tightly against the wheel pulley. As his feet extended out over the drop-off, Markman resolved that it had been a worthwhile life. Finally, with the line continuing to tighten, the sled dipped down, and Markman slipped over the edge into a vertical drop.
Still wincing, he opened his eyes and tried to make sense of the spinning world. There was spinning but no falling. He looked around and realized he was slowly descending. After a minute or so, something large passed by him on the way up. It was some kind of large bag of something. A few moments later, the bottom of the sled touched down and Markman slid sideways onto a ledge, half on his side, facing the wall. He had somehow arrived, having used the death prayers unnecessarily. The bags and supplies lay all around him. He craned his neck to see Cassiopia inching her way down. At the bottom, she smiled at him and repositioned the sled. She gathered the packs and supplies out of the way and pushed the sled as far as it would go with its line still attached. Staring upward, she released the rope from the sled. Immediately the heavy tarp of rocks came crashing down nearby. S
he dumped the rocks, recovered the tarp, and began packing her supplies on top of Markman, then coiled up her ropes and plopped them down on his chest.
Markman tried to shake his head but grimaced from the spinning. Once again, he tried to focus. “Did you make a damn elevator?”
“Pretty good, huh?”
“Well, yeah, but you could have told me.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I just went over a cliff for you. How’s that?”
“Pretty good.”
“What are those hand and foot hold things you used to climb down?”
“They’re friction hitches. The actual name is Prusik Hitch.”
“Here I go again, how did you know about those?”
“I owe it to my doctor. My doctor was a rock climber. He had two dozen climbing magazines in his waiting room. The wait was usually about two hours. I read every one of them. I know a lot about climbing, but I’ve never done it, of course.”
“Of course.”
Last but not least, Cassiopia hoisted the precious oil-stove and tucked it into the net she had attached to the back of Markman’s sled. With her backpack strapped on, she hooked the sled to the front of her harness, leaned back, and began pulling the well-laden transport slowly along in a test of the drag. It took more strength to move it than she had hoped, but this stretch of ledge was essentially level. The downhill sections would be easier. The sled plowed through the snow but did not bottom out. It rode obediently atop the cushion of white. As she continued, the back end tried to slide outward. She stopped several times and adjusted her harness to correct the problem. As she approached the first corner, the setup had stabilized nicely. Markman strained to twist his head around to look forward but turned back from the vertigo.
The sharp corner took some planning and experimentation. The objective was to prevent the back end of the sled from swinging out over the drop-off. Cassiopia worked the problem by pulling the sled a short way forward, then stopping and coaxing the front around a bit. Repeating the process several times, the sled finally lined up on the far side of the turn. There, she paused to look at the long, descending path that led down and around the huge horseshoe canyon. She leaned against the cliff face and rested. Markman could stand the suspense no longer. He forced himself up and turned to look over the landscape. Even spinning, it was both beautiful and ominous.
“Still think you made the right choice,” he asked.
“There was no choice,” she replied.
“I mean about doing this alone.”
“There was no choice,” she repeated, as she came to him and tucked in the supplies more tightly.
The journey down and around the long winding ledge slowly began. Cassiopia would disconnect herself from the sled, walk one hundred yards down the pathway to check it for safety, then return, hook up, and walking backward, drag the sled along. The downhill pull was much easier. Keeping the sled pointed in the correct direction continued to be challenging. As they passed the first turn in the rock, luggage-sized chunks of snow crashed down around them from somewhere above. To Markman’s dismay, Cassiopia tried to shield him with her body, though it turned out to be unnecessary. After clearing fallen snow from their path, the trek continued. Farther along, still more snow needed clearing from a wider section of ledge. After three hours of relentless pulling, the entire loop around the canyon was behind them.
The final sharp corner of rock dared Cassiopia to continue. She unhooked and pushed her way through the snow and around the corner to check the way. New landscape came into view. The field of jagged mountaintops gradually gave way to snow-covered hills. In the direction of their travel, a wide canyon of snow offered them flat land--if they could reach it. Cassiopia turned and looked back in the direction from where they had come. She was shocked to look up and see how high they had been. A pang of excitement raced through her as she realized they were nearly off the mountain. She looked ahead to see what the ledge trail had to offer next and stopped abruptly. A few feet away, her worst nightmare waited.
Chapter 6