by Jan Gangsei
“Huh,” I said. “It seems sturdy enough. Maybe they just blocked it off as a precaution. You know, since the handrail is gone. If we’re careful, I bet we could get across.”
“Oh, in that case, I suggest we put our lives in extreme peril and go for it,” Hector said, rolling his eyes.
“I’m actually with the bespectacled one on this,” said Jack. “I really don’t want to die today.”
Hector looked shocked.
“But . . . ,” Jack continued, “we could play it safe. Rope up, go one at a time.”
“What?” Hector said.
“Boo-ya!” Jack shouted.
I was already taking the rope out of my backpack. “All we need to do is tie it around the waist of the person who’s crossing. If they slip, the other two can pull him back.”
“So who goes first?” asked Hector, chewing his lip.
We both looked at him.
“No, no, no!” he said, shaking his head. “That makes no logical sense. I’m the lightest, so I might get across fine, but then one of you guys brings the bridge down. Maybe you should lead the way, Junior?”
“No, ladies first,” Jack said.
“Pig head,” Hector retorted.
I put up my hand. “Rock, paper, scissors,” I said. “Loser goes first. Ready?” We held our fists in the air. “Rock, paper, scissors—shoot!”
Jack and I both threw paper. Hector made a rock.
“Oh man,” he said. “Best of three?”
“Nope,” I said, looping the rope around his waist. “Don’t worry. We won’t let you fall.” Hector inhaled deeply and eyeballed Jack, who mumbled “Hopefully” with a wolfish grin.
“Fine,” Hector said. He pulled out his guidebook and shoved it in my face. “But the least you can do is tie a proper knot.”
I finished hitching the rope around Hector, then fastened the other end to a large tree stump. For good measure, Jack and I grabbed hold of the slack. I gave Hector a nod. “You’re good to go.”
Hector sucked in another deep breath and ducked under the DANGER sign. He put one foot on the bridge. It creaked.
“You can do it!” I called out. “One step at a time.”
Hector put his other foot on the bridge, then slowly advanced, plank by plank. Jack and I kept our hands feeding out the rope, just in case. But Hector reached the end, and with a graceful little leap, catapulted himself onto solid ground.
Jack and I cheered.
“I made it!” he shouted. I could see his legs were trembling.
Hector untied the rope and tossed it back. Jack caught it with one hand.
“I’ll go next!” he said. He wrapped the rope around himself and hurried onto the bridge. It groaned in response.
“Whoa!” I said. “Slow down, Jack.”
Yeah, that’s sort of like trying to convince water to flow uphill. As Jack barreled across, the whole structure sagged, swinging from left to right. “Cowabunga!” he yelled, and leapt off onto the far side, the empty bridge swaying behind him.
“Yes!” He fist-pumped the air. “You’re up!”
So we had a dilemma. I could just untie the rope from the stump, fasten it around my waist, and let Jack and Hector take the slack on the other side if something happened. But looking at Hector’s spindly arms, I wasn’t filled with confidence. The alternative was to leave the rope around the stump and tie the other end to myself. If I fell then, the stump would hold me, but I’d be stuck on this side.
“Toss me the rope!” I said. The second option seemed better. If I fell, I’d definitely be alive, even if I was on the wrong side of the ravine.
Jack hurled the rope back across and I looped it under my arms, checking that the knot was good.
“Paul, Paul, Paul!” they began to chant.
I stepped onto the bridge with my right foot. Despite my fears, it did feel sturdy. My shoulders relaxed. Okay, this wasn’t going to be so bad. Just a few more steps and we’d be on the home stretch straight to Bear Falls.
Hector and Jack kept cheering.
“We’re going on a bear hunt.
Look! A bridge . . .”
I smiled and placed my left foot on the wooden plank. I don’t know if it was the sound of splitting wood that I noticed first, or the feeling of sudden yawning weightlessness. I heard Jack and Hector cry out, then my own scream rose above both. My insides turned to liquid terror as the bridge gave way.
I was falling.
I frantically clawed the air, my heart pounding and breath stuttering. The rope snapped tight, banging my body against the side and snatching my breath away. I could hear pieces of the bridge crashing against the rocks below and splashing in the water. Hector and Jack’s voices were a muted shout in my ears.
I was spinning, the rope taut above.
“Hold on!” called Jack.
I fastened both hands on the rope, mouth dry as sand. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“You need to climb!” shouted Hector. Looking up, I saw him leaning over the edge on the far side.
Willing myself not to look down, I reached for a small branch protruding from the wall and used it to hoist myself upward. I lodged my foot between two rocks, hoping for some leverage, but slipped as soon as I stepped. There were no other handholds.
I cracked my knuckles and grabbed the rope, gripping it tightly, and heaved myself up. I don’t know if was the adrenaline draining me, or simply that I’d become a weakling, but it was a lot tougher than shimmying up the rope in PE class. Of course, in PE, if you fall all you land on is a pile of cushy mats—not a bunch of jagged rocks and rushing water. I tried not to think about that and instead kept climbing. My arms burned after just a few feet. I’ll never make it. It’s too far. I wanted just to sag back, held by the rope, but I knew if I did I’d never have the strength to try again.
Reach, grip, pull.
Jack and Hector were screaming themselves hoarse. Sweat poured off my head and into a pool on my back. Reach, grip, pull.
I thought of my dad, whose crazy idea this whole trip had been. I imagined his face if I didn’t make it back. I couldn’t do that to him.
Reach, grip, pull.
“You’re almost there!” roared Jack.
“Keep going!” shouted Hector.
And finally, fingers stiff like claws on the rope, I cleared the side. I almost hadn’t had strength to heave the last foot, but with a lunge, I hooked my leg up over the side and rolled into solid ground, shaking from head to toe. Hector and Jack stared at me from across the ravine, faces pale. I gave a feeble wave.
“You okay, dude?” Jack shouted.
“Yeah,” I said, looking up and down the ravine. The problem was, I was back where I started, with no bridge to cross. Fine for me, not so good for my friends.
“You’re stuck, though.”
Hector dug around in his backpack and pulled out his phone. “I’m sorry, guys,” he said. “But I think we can agree that now we need to call for help.”
I hated to give up . . . not when we were this close. But I didn’t see any other choice.
“Okay,” I said, defeated.
Hector tapped the screen, and his face dropped.
“What?” I asked.
“No signal.” He held the phone in the air, twisting himself in every direction like a human antenna and flicking the screen with his finger. “Still nothing,” he said.
“That’s because you’ve got a lame carrier,” Jack said. “My phone works everywhere!” He whipped it out and tapped the screen. His cheeks turned red.
“Is that right?” Hector said. “Doesn’t look like it’s working too well here.”
“Well, it would work,” Jack said. “If the battery hadn’t died. What about you, Paul? You got a signal?”
I explained about our family rules, and they both looked at me like I was born in the nineteenth century.
“You know, Jack,” said Hector, “maybe the battery wouldn’t have died if you didn’t spend all your time playing games.”
“What are you, my mom?” Jack retorted.
“As if,” Hector said. “My children will be geniuses! Not knuckleheads in Valentine’s underpants.”
Jack shoved Hector. Hector shoved him back.
“Hey! Guys!” I shouted. “No time for that. It’s getting late, and we need to figure out a plan!”
Hector fished the half-eaten map out of his pocket and studied it. “I think the only way is for you to head back to camp. We’ll just have to stay on this side.”
“What? All night?” said Jack.
Hector shrugged. “Don’t worry, I won’t eat you unless I get really hungry.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” said Jack. “What if . . . you know, the Beast gets us?”
He looked genuinely terrified, and part of me wanted to laugh. But the situation was kind of serious. It would probably get pretty cold out here at night, so the sooner I found help the better.
Hector frowned at the map. “Paul, this will get you as far as the junction with the yellow route. From there I guess you just follow it downhill.”
He searched the ground, picking up a large rock. He wrapped the map around it and lifted his arm. With a grunt, he tossed the map-covered rock across the ravine. We watched in silence as it sailed through the air—spinning, spinning, spinning . . .
And unraveling halfway across. The rock landed with a thud at my feet.
The map fluttered down into the ravine below.
WILDERNESS SURVIVAL TIP #17
WHEN LOST IN THE JUNGLE, THINK LIKE AN APE.
THE MAP SWIRLED IN THE distant murky water, sinking slowly, until just a curled edge poked up from the surface. Then even that disappeared, taking any chance of finding the path back to camp with it.
“Uh, sorry,” Hector said, biting his lip.
“Good going, Einstein,” Jack scoffed, and rapped Hector’s arm. “Any more brilliant ideas?”
Hector’s face reddened. “I suppose you have a better plan, Junior?”
“Sure,” Jack said. “We’ll just send up a flare.”
“Huh?” Hector said.
“Yeah. We can ignite one of your farts, Pooper Scooper.” Jack snickered. “That one in the car probably contained enough methane to light up the entire sky.”
Hector’s face screwed up tight. “I told you already, that WASN’T ME!” He gave Jack a shove, nearly toppling himself in the process.
“Hey, guys!” I yelled. “Forget the map. I think I can find the way.”
“Think?” said Hector. “What if you take the wrong path? You might end up miles from the lake.”
“Yeah, and there are predators,” said Jack. “Bears, maybe wolves . . .”
“We don’t have much of a choice,” I said.
“And don’t forget snakes,” said Hector. “You might not get so lucky next time.”
Something shuffled in the underbrush and a bird flew into the air, squawking. I watched the tall trees sway in the wind, sunlight flickering through the rustling leaves. A small animal scampered across the gnarled forest floor. “I guess you’re right,” I said. “Well, I’m just gonna have to find a way over to you, then. . . .”
I stared across the deep, winding ravine. Three short yards to the other side. But it might as well have been a mile. I kicked a pebble over the edge, watched it bang down the rocks, and cringed.
“Uh, I’m not so sure, Paul,” Hector said. “It doesn’t look—”
“No.” I shook my head. “There has to be a way. There’s always a way,” I said in my best Dad voice.
I scanned my options. The bridge was completely annihilated. There were no logs to take its place. Nothing on the ground to build a new bridge.
I leaned on a giant tree to my left and looked up. A crooked branch arched right over the ravine.
“I have an idea,” I said, pointing up.
“No way!” said Hector. “Even if you could climb that tree—which I’m pretty sure you can’t—the branch won’t hold you.”
“I’m not going to climb it!” I said. “Watch.”
I found a rock about the size of my fist and tied the other end of the rope around it.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked.
I took a deep breath and threw the rock over the tree branch. The rope sailed over too, and the rock hung in the air about eight feet above Jack on the other side. He extended his arm.
“Can’t . . . quite . . . reach it,” he said.
Hector jumped up and swatted the air.
“Wait!” Jack said. He crouched slightly and pointed at his knees. “Stand here, Pooper Scooper. I’ll hold you and you can reach out and grab the rope.” Hector’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t worry,” Jack said. “I’m not gonna drop you.” He flexed his muscles.
Hector looked at Jack, then me, then back at Jack, and finally clambered onto Jack’s hands, which were near Jack’s knees. Jack lifted him off the ground. Hector reached up for the rock.
“Almost . . . ,” he said, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth.
“C’mon, Pooper Scooper,” Jack said. “You can do it! Just . . . lean . . . a . . . little . . . more . . . ,” he grunted.
Hector extended a shaking hand. His body swayed. His fingers clenched the rock. “Got it!” he exhaled, just as Jack turned his head to the side.
“Oh, no. You didn’t!” Jack sputtered. Grimacing, he let Hector fall, then furiously waved the air in front of his nose, gagging and hacking.
“Uh, sorry,” Hector said.
“I knew it was you in the car!” Jack said between retches.
“Hey, guys!” I yelled, waving. “Over here, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack said. He grabbed the rock from Hector and braced his weight against it. Hector held on too.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s just test this thing out. . . .”
I gave a tug. The branch holding the rope bowed a little but didn’t break. So I pulled harder, watching for signs of weakness. It seemed sturdy. Well, sturdy enough.
“Think it can hold you?” Hector said.
“I guess we’re gonna find out,” I said, sucking in a breath. “All right. Hold on tight, guys.”
I backed up and got a running start, hands clenched around the rope. Just as I reached the edge of the ravine, I kicked off the ground.
“Ahhhh-ahhh-ahhh!” I yelled. It seemed appropriate. For a second I felt the gap open up beneath me, and I thought I heard a snap above, but then my feet hit the gravely path on the other side. I skidded onto my backside, hands still clutching the rope, knuckles white.
“You did it!” Hector yelled. “You did it!”
“All right, man,” Jack said. “Not bad.”
I stood, brushed the pebbles from the back of my shorts, and tried to remember how to breathe. My blood was pumping through my veins like liquid fire. That was all sorts of awesome. . . .
“It was nothing,” I said, holding back a smile.
Hector peeked over the edge of the ravine and shoved his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. “But you could have fallen,” he said. “Which probably would have killed you. Or put you in a coma. Or at a minimum, left you paralyzed. And broken most of your bones.” He sniffed and pushed his glasses again.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “Thanks for not telling me that before I jumped.”
Jack laughed. “Yeah, I guess this place isn’t exactly boring anymore, is it?”
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “We’ve got to hit a cell signal somewhere.”
We followed the crooked trail away from the ravine, edging between tall trees, clumps of thick green ferns, and moss-covered rocks. The mountains towered all around us. An eagle soared gracefully across the sky.
“Did you know,” Hector said, “that most birds only have lower eyelids?”
“Huh,” Jack grunted.
“And an American toad has a life span of up to fifteen years?”
“Fascinating,” I muttered.
“And that s
quirrels have their sweat glands in their feet?” Hector continued.
“Oh. So that’s why yours stink so bad, then?” Jack said, smirking.
“Ha-ha,” Hector said.
I laughed. “You have to admit, that was a good one.”
“Yeah?” Hector said. “Well, you should also know then that a squirrel’s teeth never stop growing.” He bared his fangs at us and snarled. We all cracked up. Hector resumed his random fact generating, regaling us with pointless trivia about skunks, hedgehogs, and three-toed box turtles.
A few hundred feet farther up the path, Jack came to an abrupt halt and plopped onto a large rock, panting. He wiped his forehead.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “This is no time for a break.”
“Something in my shoe.” He yanked off his right sneaker and shook it vigorously over the grass.
A tiny pebble rolled out.
“You know,” he said, “if it weren’t for Pooper Scooper here chucking our map in the drink, we’d already be back at the campsite now roasting marshmallows.”
“Marshmallows? Don’t you mean roasting the tent?” Hector shot back. “Anyway, you think I threw the map in the ravine on purpose?”
“Well, it’s not like we could read the stupid thing anyway,” I said. “Not with all the chocolate fingerprints and raccoon bites covering it!”
We spent the next several minutes walking in silence, a few feet between us. It was flat now, a track cut into the side of the mountain. I tried to remember the route I’d come up with when looking at the map in the tent. It shouldn’t be far at all now. We’d round the bend and reach our destination. Jack was up front, Hector in the middle, me following up the rear. The path narrowed, leading us through an area of low trees and underbrush. And as we walked, the light dimmed. At first I thought it was getting late, but the time was only just after four. Then I realized it was actually the dark clouds moving in. The wind had picked up again too, plucking at the leaves and branches. The last thing we needed was rain—none of us had even thought to bring a jacket. Not to mention, I was hungry and thirsty.
In fact, the whole expedition was seeming like a bad idea.
Up front, Jack stopped to unscrew his water bottle.
“You should save that,” Hector said.