63 Days

*Notice: some of the names that have been used here were too close to the real ones. I’ve been asked to change some details about them as well as the names, as they have apparently led to some issues in some of their personal lives. I apologize for this and hope that no harm has come from this situation. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone else that endured with me.

Alli

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There were about 20 students standing at the top of the crack that was in the huge red wall infront of us. The wall itself seemed to tower about 10 stories above us and the crack was about as wide as a 1 car garage. We all stood there, staring down at the grey water. Huge boulders and 5 foot drops tripped their way quickly down from the top all the way to the bottom and from what I could see from where I was standing, there was only a miniscule beach down there.

“Ok guys…first comes first. Unload the handcarts. Get everything out. Set it on the ground and when you’re done, get your asses back over here….NOW!” Murdock was coming back. His anger and spite was quelled for a while when *Amy showed up, but every now and then, he’d lose it a bit and it made you hate him all over again.

We all walked over to the carts and started to unload all of the bedrolls and cast iron stuff. The counselors stood in a circle talking and smiling as we worked and we were all quiet, our eyes meeting for seconds in uncertainty. None of us knew what to expect from here on out.

When we were done unloading, we stood at the side of one of the handcarts and looked back at them. They looked at us and we noticed them being secretive in a way. It made us all a bit uncomfortable, but at this point, what could we do? Supposedly we were all 3 weeks from going home.

*Amy whispered to me “I bet we’re going to get a surprise!”

I was still amazed at her innocence. She seemed to feel the strain of the experience but I don’t think she ever “got” what was going on. Lucky her.

“Oh I’m sure we’ll get a surprise,” I answered. “They’re always good at surprising us. I just hope it doesn’t involve swimming long distances.”

She giggled and I looked at her like she was crazy. I wasn’t kidding.

“Ok,” Murdock started, “you kids are going to take a little trip down that crack. I don’t care how fast you go, but you have to be back up to the top by sun down. We’ll camp here tonight but I want you all to go down that crack and come back up it. Don’t even think about swimming across it, you won’t make it. There are coast guard out there so if I were you, I’d go on down…then come on back. Pronto.” He looked around at all of us then said loudly “GO! You stupid or somethin’? GO!”

We went. Pronto. Going down the crack was kind of fun. We had no packs, no handcarts to push/pull and there was a strange peace that came when we weren’t being watched by them. Huge rocks sat in the sand that trickled down the crack in this enormous mountainside. Wild flowers grew in a few places where the sun reached I’m sure in the early morning. Every few feet there would be a drop of between 3-6 feet that we’d climb/jump down. Soon we were all going faster and faster, the group spreading out a bit. Amy and I were helping eachother down the rocks as fast as we can and as we ambled, we’d notice long scratches in the walls.

Deep cuts in the rock made their way down at an angle that was close to the descent itself. I wondered what this was. Sometimes it would stop and other times it would be on both sides, mirroring eachother.

We made it to the bottom. Some of the other kids were behind us but some of them were already in the water. Nobody dared to swim but all of them had their shoes off and their pants rolled up. It was silent down there. You’d have thought a bunch of kids would have been rowdy and excited to see clean(ish) water, but the mood was almost reverent. I sat down on the cool shady sand and pulled off my boots. I stuck my filthy socks into them and rolled my camo’s up to right above my knees.

Tip-toe’ing down to the water I felt a strange sense of freedom. I was going to put my feet in the water and nobody was close enough to stop me if they’d wanted to. As I got to the edge, I felt butterflies in my stomach tickling at the anticipation.

My right toe went in first, the cold water stinging just a bit. I slid my foot up to my ankle and then went in with the left. The water was freezing, the run-off from the winter’s snow I’m sure was the cause. Standing there, “feeling”, it was amazing. Just the fact that I could “feel” again was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

*Amy took her shoes off and joined me. She looked around calmly and said in the most matter of fact way “I spend summers here. My family has a houseboat! I like it, sometimes its boring but on the other side of here is this place called Bullfrog Basin. Its awesome! There’s red sand beaches and restaurants and a marina and there are so many guys that come down like at spring break you can’t even believe it.” She smiled a little mischievious smile.

We walked around a bit, circling in the shallow water, other kids joining us every minute. Pretty soon we were all in the water. It was weird. We all were so quiet.

The shadows were growing long and we started to notice the sun was going down. A few of us got our shoes back on and started the hike up. It had only taken about 30 minutes to go down the crack but what we hadn’t even anticipated was how long the trip back up would take. Every ledge that had been so easily jumped off of now took two people giving boosts to get back up. The little areas that we’d squeezed down in a rush were now slick, steep corridors that had no hand holds.

My calves and thighs were burning and I was out of breath. I looked up the crack and it seemed like I hadn’t made any progress. I was mad at myself for not starting back up sooner when I noticed the sun now dancing near the horizon. I would have to hurry if I wanted to make it.

Finally, we got to the top. The sky was a light blue with orange and pink clouds that hovered around the mountain tops. The sun was down but there was still enough light to go over to where the counselors had made a fire.

As we passed them, they would stop talking and cover the writing pads they were writing in. They’d made Ramen for themselves to eat and the scent of it made me actually drool on my shirt. I went over to our pile of packs, found mine and settled down in a sandy spot over where they’d told us we could sleep. Some kids were already there, just getting into their beds. There wasn’t enough time nor light to make a fire to cook rice on so we all just got into our beds.

My stomach growled for a few minutes but before I knew it, I was dreaming. I dreamed of pioneers. Groups of wagons that were being lowered down the crack. Some of them had children who were crying and frightened inside. Men were pulling and pushing them with ropes they’d tied to the undercarriages of them. Horrible scratching noises echoed through my ears as the hubs from the wagon wheels would dig into the red walls of the crack. I dreamed of this all night long.

At some point a woman turned to me in the dream and said to me, her eyes looking straight at mine, “Allison, although the trip is hard, you must hang on. Just like we endured so will you. Its in your blood.”

When I woke in the morning, I was startled a bit by the vividness of her words. I could still see her and I grabbed my journal and wrote everything she’d said in it. I described her face, her clothes…her voice. I wrote about the cracks in the rock and how I’d seen how they’d been made.

As we started the next day (which would be one of the worst yet on this trip) all I could think of was the woman. I could have kicked myself for not asking her name.