A Cliffhanger
Desperately clinging to the rock, hands quickly tiring, Zak was beyond staying calm. He was panicking. If he couldn’t hold on, he was in serious trouble. How long did he have left? Was simply holding on even going to be enough? Sure his friends were nearby, but he was unreachable. Was anything to be done other than letting go and hoping for the best? No, he had to hang on as long as possible. As he did he reflected on his semester abroad in Australia at The University of Queensland. What if he’d worked out a little more? Would he have been able to make it the final 20 feet?
Suri made it all right, and Pich didn’t even try. He calculated that the risk of scaling the first cliff face, followed by whatever unseen challenges lay beyond it, wasn’t worth the reward, and found a more roundabout way of reaching the top. Now Suri and Pich looked down from above, helplessly. They were at least a half hour from the car, and Zak only had a few minutes at most. But what could they do?
The adventure had really begun just an hour ago. What started as an exploratory hike to find a trail-less way up Bear Mountain had turned into a challenge between competitive friends. Zak simply declared he would climb up in the deep crevice of the rock face instead of finding a way around. Suri, unsure of the plan’s wisdom, but nonetheless unwilling to cow in the face of the challenge, quickly followed Zak into the unknown crevice that appeared from below as a dark, impenetrable gash in the side of the mountain. The first ascent was easy for both of them, a short 12 foot climb with perfect hand- and foot-holds. Above they discovered a short scramble up a steep slope of loose stones, followed by another, slightly more challenging rock face to scale. It’s uncertain when the two climbers began to realize the difficulty of continuing on, but it had been obvious from the top of the first ascent that there was no turning back. Continued ascent would prove difficult, but descent was impossible.
From above Zak, Suri and Pich could barely see their friend, hugging the rock two levels below (two vertical faces with one of the loose, more gently angled rock-scrambles in between). They didn’t know precisely how bad Zak’s situation was, but they knew a descent to his position put them all in danger. If the topmost man fell, the narrow crevice made it probable that all would tumble from the cliff, like a game of high-stakes human dominoes. Silently weighing the risk of falling during the harrowing descent against the risk of Zak falling on his own, the balance tipped toward action when they heard Zak desperately gasp "help now!".
Suri and Pich sprang into action. They descended the first cliff face rapidly but carefully, lest they send a tumbling softball-sized stone clattering onto Zak. They carefully positioned themselves atop the cliff face to which Zak clung. Suri knew from his ascent just minutes before that this cliff face was by far the hardest of the entire climb, for its height, pitch, and available holds; Pich didn’t need experience to see that this would be difficult. There was simply no way either of them could descend to Zak and physically help him ascend to the top. They’d need to use some ingenuity. This would have to be a two-man rescue. But how?
Suri saw a thick, sturdy stick nearby, and grabbed it, testing its strength. "Pich, the only way we can do this is if you take a bulldog’s grip, plant your feet, and hold at least one man’s worth of weight on this stick. I’ll climb down and see if I can get Zak within reach of the stick."
Pich wasn’t sure if he could hold that much weight. Sure, he was strong, but to test your strength in this way, with your friends life literally hanging from your hands? Still, there was no way around it. He nodded without a word, trying to look as confident as possible. Suri didn’t wait for him to get set, there was no time. He began descending the cliff face, grabbing the stick when pure climbing became impossible. Trying to keep his weight off the stick to preserve Pich’s strength, he reached Zak. Pich extended the stick downward as far as possible while keeping his strong grip. They were close to success, but the ordeal wasn’t yet over. If Zak let go of his current hold, even to make an attempt at the stick, he knew he would fall. With an encouraging grunt from Suri, who was keeping one foot firmly below Zak’s to give a reinforced foothold, Zak lunged, taking hold of the stick at last. As he scrambled loose from the difficult position, Suri looked up and could tell that Pich was bearing much of the weight. It began as a team effort, Suri helping Zak find foot holds from below, Pich pulling up from above to supplement Zak’s flagging strength. Thankfully, after breaking Zak free from the difficult position he was in and getting him restarted up the cliff, his energy and nerve rebounded to climb the rest of the way up the rock face, Pich waiting above, Suri following close behind.
Relieved that the worst was behind, they sprawled at the top, panting, gasping, clapping each other on the back. Few words were spoken as the short final ascent was made, and the route down was hastily planned. Hastily because the rain began to fall, seeming to add insult to narrowly-escaped injury. They made their way down through the forest understory, exhausted, sliding, wet, alive. Their sole desire now was to get off Bear Mountain without climbing any more rocks.
Later the three adventurers decompressed over beer at a tame, lame, and plain restaurant bar. They’d normally complain about such a disappointing atmosphere, but not this evening. They were too relieved that tragedy was avoided. Zak, consoled that he was likely never to face such a terrifying and uncomfortable situation for the rest of his life, could not know that his consolation would be shattered in twenty-four short hours. The worst bout of poison ivy he would ever experience had already begun its work. In their rushed descent, the adventurers failed to recognize that they were sliding down a mountainside covered in poison ivy—in the rain, no less. Zak’s nightmare would continue, a weeks long, itching, burning, relief-less reminder of his near-death on the rocks. At least one visit to the hospital would be made in a desperate plea for help, but only transient relief was to be found even then. As for Suri and Pich, they escaped with far less severe consequences, yet again.
The Afternoon Farmer himself was a character in this story. The events described are 100% true, from the perspective of one of the characters. The emotions and inner dialogue are pure speculation by the Farmer. The events happened nearly twenty years before this writing, so the other characters involved may remember things very differently. Names have been changed to protect the actual characters from embarrassment, and because the other characters were not asked permission to publicize the story, or for their perspective on the events.