Welcome to my latest series! I hope it gives you pleasure. I'd like to thank my editor, Lil_kitty, an accomplished Lit writer in her own right. Check out her stories! --Petitmort
DAY 1
A cool morning breeze wafted through the pines and swirled along the granite cliffs that towered overhead. Cody pulled his backpack out of his jeep and slung it over his shoulder.
He scanned the sign marking the trailhead, the tumbling water in the nearby creek, and the gray-white peaks looming in the distance. He felt the familiar rush of anticipation that always accompanied the start of one his solo trips into the wilderness.
The Desolation Wilderness to be exact.
Why they called it that, he had no clue. Located in the High Sierras southwest of Lake Tahoe, it was anything but desolate. Gorgeous pine forests, ice-carved granite basins, pristine lakes, and rushing rivers.
It was the perfect place to get away from it all.
And Cody was glad to see he had it pretty much to himself. His was the only car in the parking area. He'd picked this date, mid-week in early Spring, for just that reason. They'd just recently re-opened the wilderness area after the winter and he was among the first to get a permit.
Four days and nights by himself in the High Sierra. He couldn't wait to get started. He put on his hat, cinched down the straps of his backpack, and started up the trail.
His path paralleled a fast-moving stream, with crystal clear water tumbling over car-sized granite boulders. The winter snow was mostly a memory now, with just a few white patches scattered across the granite expanse and frosting the highest peaks.
Every year, Cody would try to take one of these backpacking trips in the wilderness. It was his chance to decompress, turn down the volume, and chill. Back when he was married, he tried bringing his wife along but it wasn't her thing.
These days, he was happy to go solo.
In his mid-30's, with keen, discerning cobalt blue eyes, he had flowing light brown hair and a day-old beard. Handsome and reserved, with an athletic build, he was definitely the strong, silent type.
The weather was mild, allowing him to wear hiking shorts, boots, a khaki green hat, and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
The initial climb was steep, which Cody appreciated. He knew that would keep people away. He'd learned that if you're willing to work hard to get somewhere, you're more likely to have it to yourself.
It wasn't long before he was breathing hard, synchronizing his breaths with his long strides. His thoughts began to wander, as they always did when he was hiking alone.
Forgot how thin the air is up here. Must be close to 8000'. Just set an easy, consistent pace. Got all day to cover ten and a half miles. Should make it to the lake by dark, easy.
Sure is nice to be able to set my own pace. If Beth were here, she'd probably be complaining by this point. 'You're going too fast. Why did you choose this hike anyway? You only think of yourself.'
I wonder where she's spending her vacation? Probably at a fancy hotel on some tropical island somewhere. With him.
Alright, that's enough. You didn't come all the way out here to obsess about Beth.
He scanned the granite peaks in the distance. The perspective had already started to change as he gained altitude. He was leaving the stream behind and could hear its roar growing fainter.
He could see Red Peak off in the distance. Beyond that, McConnell Peak. He had two passes to scale, about a 3000' climb over 10.5 miles, by sunset.
After about six miles, he was nearing the first summit near Lake Doris when he heard something behind him.
"On your left," a woman's voice rang out.
He stepped to the side and a trail runner sailed past. Even uphill, she was flying. She ran like a gazelle.
"Have a good run," he called out as she bounded up the trail.
"Thanks," she answered.
She was wearing short running shorts, a form-fitting blue t-shirt, and a small backpack with a water hose attached. Her legs were lean and well-shaped, her body petite and fit.
Whoa. She is really in good shape. Great butt too. And she was moving. Pretty impressive. Six miles in and she passes me like I'm standing still.
He figured she was an out and backer, a trail runner who runs for a certain distance or time, then returns to where they started.
She'll pass me going the other way and I'll have the mountain to myself.
When he reached the first summit, he ate a protein bar and an apple while enjoying the panoramic view. Jagged granite peaks frosted with snow jutted into partly cloudy skies. The temperature was in the low 70s but it felt warmer after his climb. He unbuttoned his cotton shirt to cool his body.
At mile eight, he started the climb to the second summit, Schmidell Pass. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen that trail runner on her way back to the bottom. This wasn't a loop trail. There was only one way in and one way out.
The trail grew steeper. Cody made his way up the incline, methodically placing one foot in front of the other and even using his hands to scramble a couple of times. As he finally made it to the top of the ridge, he could see his destination, Leland Lakes, down below.
He was traversing the top of the ridge, grateful not to be climbing for a change, when he heard a faint, high-pitched wail.
At first, he thought it was a birdcall. Maybe a peregrine falcon? Then, after a pause, he heard it again. And a third time.
That wasn't a bird. That was a
whistle.
He doubled his pace. Hikers sometimes blow whistles when they're in trouble. It's a form of signaling.
The whistle sounded every thirty seconds or so. It sounded weak, like it had been at it for some time.
He used his hearing to get as close to the sound as possible. But he couldn't see where it was coming from.
Finally, he found the source.
Thirty feet below the trail, on a steep escarpment of scree and manzanita, he could see a swath of blue fabric.
It was the woman. The runner. She was clinging to a branch to keep from sliding down the ravine.
"Hey! I see you!" Cody yelled.
"Thank God," she said, weakly.
"Don't worry, I'll help you," Cody called out.
Immediately, his training kicked in. First, he had to determine mental capacity and extent of injury.
"How're you doing? Are you okay?"
There was a pause.
"What do you think? I just fell off a cliff. Of course, I'm not okay."
Well, she's conscious and alert at any rate. And she still has her sense of humor. That's a good sign.
"I mean, are you injured? Any broken bones?"
"No, I don't think so. My ankle hurts. I think I may have sprained it. A few abrasions. Nothing serious."
Cody quickly sized up the situation. He was going to have to go down and get her. No way she could get up that cliff on her own.
"Just hang on tight," he said. "I've got rope. I'm going to use it to come down to you."
The woman didn't answer. Cody assumed she was exhausted. He would have to work fast.
He swung his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped the main compartment. He pulled out his rope kit, a set of pre-cut rope segments daisy-chained together. He quickly pulled out his longest segment, a 100' length of 750 paracord.
He was planning to do a one-person, rappelling pick-off. Not the most difficult maneuver in the rescue manual, but it's typically done with
two
rescuers.
And the cliff was full of loose rock. He could cause rocks to fall on her if he wasn't careful.
He found the best spot to descend, about 20' off to the side of where she fell. It had the least amount of talus, or loose rock, which might fall on her.
He looked up the cliff, above the trail, and found a good-sized, living tree to secure his rope to. He wrapped one end around the trunk and lowered both loose ends down the cliff.
With his back to the edge of the cliff, he wrapped the rope around his waist, stepped over the it, and put both pieces of rope through his legs and out one side. He held one rope from the tree in his left hand, pulling it taut, and the segment going down the cliff in his right.
Then, he leaned back.
Cody had rappelled without a harness lots of times. But he always took it slowly and methodically. Now, he was moving fast so he had to be careful.
He leaned way back, so the rope was perpendicular to his body, and to keep his feet firmly affixed to the side of the cliff.
A few minutes later, he had lowered himself to her level. He started to sidestep towards her, until he was within a few feet of her.
She slowly turned her head to face him. She suddenly saw a ruggedly handsome, blue-eyed man hanging from a rope next to her.
"Oh, hello," she said.
"Hi," he answered. "I'm Cody."
"Phoebe. Nice of you to drop by."
Her face, dirt-smudged as it was, was uncommonly beautiful.
For a brief moment, they smiled at the absurdity of the situation. Then, it was back to business.
"Let's see if we can get you out of here."
He fashioned a sling with the excess cord, moved in next to her, and slipped it over her head and shoulders. Once it was secure, he wrapped his strong arm around her slim waist, and held her close. She put her arms around his neck.
She watched him manipulating the rope, making knots, making sure she was secure. Everything was done so expertly, she instantly felt a bit more at ease.
