Scene of the Climb (5 page)

The sun hid behind a sturdy wall of blowing clouds overhead. Uh-oh, it looked like the rain might return. I noticed Alicia didn't bother to remove her sunglasses. Instead, she pulled a dandelion from the gravel and twisted it around her finger.

“We're gonna scramble up the side of this little cliffy. Should be a quickie. Keep ya in tip-top shape until the next challenge.” He motioned to Andrew, who was untwisting a jumble of cables. “Andrew here will be shootin' footage of our gorgeous location. And Meggie here may wanna stop ya along the way to get your firsthand account of the trek. Any questions?”

“You gonna time us?” Lenny asked from behind hitman sunglasses.

“Didn't plan to”—Dave paused—“What do you think, Krissy?”

“Fine by me. I've got all your stats here anyway,” she said, holding her clipboard.

She turned to me and said, “Meg, in case you're not up to speed, the plan for today is the contestants will run to the top of the summit. Mainly we want Andrew to shoot footage we'll use for promos. This isn't an official leg of the race.”

Andrew held a clear plastic camera the size of a plum in his palm. “I've positioned twelve of these along the route.”

“Those are cameras?” I asked.

“GoPros. Most amazing camera on the market.” Andrew beamed. He pulled a remote not much bigger than his thumb from his pack. “Best part is, this is WiFi.” He clicked the remote. “One button and I can activate any camera on the trail.”

“All righty, we'll clock ya. Anything else?” Dave asked.

Lenny flexed his arms and puffed his chest. “You gonna get me airtime?” he snarled at Andrew.

Andrew threw his free hand in the air. “I can't work like this,” he said to Dave. “Tell this jackass to shut it or I'm out.” He stormed over to the van.

“What? You gonna rage quit?” Lenny shouted after him.

Raising her hand, Alicia asked, “Do we have a time set for the next challenge?”

Dave patted Krissy's shoulder. “Krissy here is gonna be working on the permits and final details while we all go climb this little peak.” He adjusted his Australian hat to shade the sun from his eyes.

Krissy cleared her throat and flipped through the paper on her clipboard. “We're at the mercy of the county at the moment. I'm going to push them hard. We can't start building the zip-line until we get approval. Hopefully I'll have good news and a firm date when you get down.”

“What the hell are we gonna do in Or-ee-gone while we wait?” Lenny asked.

Krissy threw Dave a look. “I'm working on that. I should have an updated itinerary ready later today. I'm working around the clock to get this production wrapped. We've got hours of film to start editing.”

Dave brushed her off. “No worries. Plenty of time.”

It didn't look like Krissy agreed. She folded her arms over the clipboard and stared at Dave.

Andrew returned to glaring at Lenny as he repositioned Alicia's GoPro camera. All the contestants were required to wear the indestructible cameras that Andrew mounted on their packs. He'd equipped the cameras with flexible poles extending from their packs around their shoulders to get forward-facing shots.

Andrew whispered something in Alicia's ear as he made an adjustment to her camera mount. She flicked the dandelion she'd been playing with at him. Andrew appeared wounded. With sagging shoulders he headed across the historic highway loaded with camera equipment. What was that all about?

Dave turned to me. “Greg-o had another meeting come up. He told me to tell ya he'll catch up. If not, he'll see ya at the bar-bie later. You wanna do anything with the crew before we head up?”

My mind went blank. In my panic about the hike, I hadn't formulated a single question.

I had to think.
What would an extreme journalist want to know?

I looked at the motley crew of contestants in front of me. There was Lenny, the gold-chained gangster; Leaf, the hotheaded hippie; and Alicia, the fitness femme fatale. Yes, I'm a fan of alliteration, and what an opening line. I shrugged my pack off. It felt like I was a million pounds lighter. I riffled through it for my journal, pen and camera.

“Okay, squeeze together,” I said, holding the digital camera I'd borrowed from
Northwest Extreme
.

While the magazine staffed an in-house photographer, most of the photos Greg used were from freelancers. He'd told me to snap as many candids as I could. Once the final challenge was set up, he'd send a professional photographer out with me. But for now I could use the candids to trigger my memory while writing the feature. Plus, Greg put me in charge of social media. He wanted me live-tweeting race coverage. We'd use video promos and teasers on our Web site and YouTube, Facebook and Twitter pages.

Dave stepped to the right to get out of the picture. “No, you too, Dave,” I said, waving him in. “This article is going to be about the entire crew—not just the contestants.”

I spent a good twenty minutes making them pose. I had no clue what I was going to do with all these photos, but I figured more was better.

“One question before you go: how do you feel about being in Oregon for the finale of Race the States?” Okay, I know it's a totally lame question, but I had to ask something.

Dave piped up first. “Beauty she is, Oregon—a real beauty. My production assistant and right-hand lassie, Krissy, chose this spot for the finale because of its untamed, rugged beauty. She was right—I'm ready to see more.”

I took notes frantically as he spoke. My pen flew over the page. This is what I trained to do.

“Yeah, the Oregon ladies are beauties too,” Lenny said, his gaze resting on me more than a minute too long. “I thought you all would be hairy like Leaf.”

Leaf tugged on one of his dreds. “That's right, Lenny. I'm a hairy Oregonian and proud of it. You've seen the bumper stickers by now, the ‘Keep Oregon Weird' ones? That's exactly what I love about Oregon and can't stand about megacities filled with megalomaniacs like you.”

“Knock it off,” Krissy said. “She's trying to get a story. Listen, Meg, can we finish this later? At the summit?”

“Totally,” I said, shutting the journal and packing it into my bag.

“Totally?” Alicia looked at me like I was crazy.

“Yeah. Something wrong with that?”

She curled her upper lip. “Are you twelve?”

What had I done to irritate her? I'd have to find a way to win her over. As one of the three finalists she'd be a prominent piece of my feature.

Krissy clicked on a stopwatch. “Ready, everyone?”

They all nodded.

“It's approximately two and a half miles. An easy five miles round-trip. On my count, ready, set, go!”

Alicia, Lenny and Leaf bolted across the highway and disappeared into the forest.

“Need a hand there, Meggie?” Dave asked, picking up my pack and guiding it onto my back. “Think we can catch 'em?”

I laughed nervously, trying to look casual. “Uh, yeah, I may be slower 'cause I'll need to stop and take photos and notes along the way. If you want to go ahead, it's cool. Maybe have everyone wait for me at the top. I'll do interviews and take a few more shots?”

“I'll tell ya what,” Dave said, smiling at me with twinkling eyes. “It's a deal.”

I had pegged him correctly as a fit Santa—emphasis on fit. He sprinted with ease after the contestants, leaving me and Krissy in the parking lot.

“Good luck, Meg,” she called as she turned to head to the van. “I overheard a hiker say that the trail's really slick this morning.”

I swallowed hard, forced my feet forward and said a silent prayer to the Universe.

Angel's Rest Trailhead

 

The Universe didn't answer my prayer.

There was no reprieve. The trail began right at the base of the pavement. A narrow path, packed tight with gravel, headed straight into heavily forested woods. I looked ahead to see if I could spot any of the contestants. Nope. The forest was eerily quiet.

Why hadn't I spent more time preparing interview questions? In my rush to take over Mitch's story I'd studied his notes, pored over contestant bios and outfitted myself with new gear. But I completely overlooked preparing questions. What a rookie mistake.

“Well, it's now or never, Meg,” I said aloud, knowing there was no one close enough to hear.

I gave a wistful glance across the street to the parking lot.

One clunky step at a time,
I told myself.
One step at a time.

The trail twisted through a jungle of ferns and quickly ascended into a dark cover of pine, spruce and hemlock trees. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting shadows and flickering light along the path.

The first hill made my knees weak.

My boots struggled to make traction. Loose rocks shifted under my feet. I slid backward. This was going to be a long day.

After two hundred feet the trail curved to the right and revealed a massive uphill climb. Gravel slowly transitioned into a mud-covered mess. Tree roots, loose rock, a sprinkling of pine needles and muddy footprints lay ahead. I hugged the right side of the trail.

I sucked in air. My cheeks burned with heat. At this rate, I'd be lucky to make it to the summit before sunset.

I needed a rest. I stopped, pulled the camera from my pack and clicked a number of photos. Once I regained my breath, I stuck the camera back in my pack and continued on.

A typical April east wind kicked in hard. The spindly deciduous trees around me swayed from side to side. I kept catching glances of movement out of the corner of my eye. A slow and steady howling sound followed—surely it was the wind and not a cougar. According to the guidebooks, cougars are prolific in these parts. While human and cougar encounters are rare, cougars have been known to stalk hikers in silence. I didn't want to find out.

Keep it moving, Meg.

The bushes moved with the wind, rustling ominously. A section of new growth trees looked like nob-kneed teenagers with bare legs.

I could hear the sound of water as I rounded the next bend. A spontaneous waterfall sprouted from the side of the cliff. Lime green lichen surrounded the falls. The path was washed out. Water pooled at my feet and gushed beneath the trail as it continued off the other side and meandered its way to the Columbia River far below.

I'd have to jump.

I leapt across the giant puddle and landed with a splat right in the middle. Mud splattered on my calves. So much for the new Merrells.

As I sloshed through the murky water, my entire body gave an involuntary shudder. I could feel the cold from the piercing mountain runoff creeping into my skin. This should make the rest of the climb fabulous, I thought, turning to sarcasm which, as Mother likes to remind me, is not my best trait.

Feeling vulnerable, I thought of Pops. He would love this. He would have egged me on—told me to splash my way through the puddles. The ache of missing him crept in like the mud in my socks.

Not now, Meg. You have to concentrate.

Something electronic sounded in the trees. I turned my head in the direction of the sound. One of Andrew's cameras swiveled on a spruce tree. Crap. I forgot about the cameras. Was Andrew watching me falter? He said he could activate any camera on the trail with his remote.

Move it, Meg.

As I pushed on, the tree cover became so thick I could barely see the sky. Evergreens draped with heavy moss waved at me in the wind. Something moved ahead. I halted midstride.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I called.

Where was everyone? Had they already summited? This was stupid. I should have stuck with the group.

I hurried along. The trees disappeared and an enormous basalt rock garden appeared in front of me. I edged as close as I could to the far side of the narrow trail and stood frozen in fear. One misstep here and I'd tumble hundreds of feet over the jagged rocks.

I snuck a peek downward. Big mistake.

My entire body felt as if it was on a Tilt-A-Whirl. I shuddered again, not sure if it was from the cold or the impending feeling of doom growing larger by the moment.

My throat tightened in a knot as I turned my back to the cliff and shuffled one foot at a time over the narrow trail. A baseball-sized rock slipped under my foot—crashing its way over the rocky cliff and sending a smattering of other rocks in an avalanche with it. It sounded like the entire side of the mountain would give way.

I clutched the slick, wet cliff behind me, trying to dig my nails in for traction. There wasn't anything to grab. My backpack scraped along the rock. One of the trekking poles grated in the side pocket, making a sound like nails on a chalkboard. I tiptoed carefully, wanting to sprint and stay frozen at the same time. Finally, my foot landed on solid, syrupy mud. I'd made it to the other side.

Relief washed over me, followed by a new thought—this was the only way down. Last night I read that climbers who summit Everest often die on the descent. Not a comforting thought. It made me feel even worse for Mitch. This was the kind of assignment he lived for.

The landscape shifted again. This section of the trail had burned in a forest fire. Snags, partly dead trees still standing, and burnt trees littered the side of the cliff. It gave me an eerie feeling, like walking through a tree cemetery. I quickened my pace and scurried along the wider trail.

Around the next bend, I heard voices. Fighting voices? Was someone coming? I stood absolutely still. Nothing.

Maybe it was the wind, I thought, slugging along.

Or maybe I'm paranoid.

I could feel my heels rubbing against my wet socks. They were raw and I had a sinking feeling they were bleeding. I thought about stopping to adhere Band-Aids, but didn't think they'd do much good with wet socks. I should have thought to pack extra socks.

No wonder I never hike. This was miserable and creepy. I'd never been alone in a forest without Pops. The quiet was making it impossible to stop thinking about him.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement and the flash of bright red. A deer trail darted off from the main trail, winding its way deeper into the forest. I peered into the woods and saw what looked like a person in a red jacket crouched in a dugout.

“Hey! Who's out there?” I shouted.

Someone or something bolted in the woods.

“Hello?”

I grabbed the camera from my pack and tried to zoom in. I couldn't see anything. I snapped a couple shots anyway.

Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me? I rubbed them and checked again. Whoever or whatever it was, was gone. Why would someone hide in a dugout? There was no way I was venturing any deeper into the woods to find out.

I panted my way up switchback after switchback, stopping every ten minutes to catch my breath and slug water. The trail opened onto another rocky ledge of slate and basalt. I heard the sound of voices again. But this time I recognized the voices.

I'd made it. Whew!

A sweeping view of the Columbia River Gorge made my head spin. Both Oregon and Washington were visible from this vantage point. The brilliant blue waters of the Columbia River cut between the two states, weaving past an island in the middle and continuing west toward the ocean. Boulders scattered in various shapes and sizes up to the tree line.

From there trees dropped away—straight down to the river. A collection of backpacks, water bottles and gear was strewn about. The sun appeared from behind the cloud cover, heating the rocks. Alicia, Dave, Lenny and Leaf all lounged on the sizzling rocks. My body felt like strawberries dumped into a blender—pulsing and swirling together.

Dave noticed me first. “Hey there, Meggie. We were wonderin' where you got to.” He was precariously perched on the top of a huge overhang—a slab of rock that protruded over the side of the cliff. His feet stuck off the edge. I tried to look away from the crumbly rocks below.

“Yeah, I stopped a bunch to take photos and notes,” I lied.

“Didn't happen to see my hat by chance, did ya?” Dave patted his silver hair. He looked bald without the hat.

“No. Did you lose it?”

“Must have fallen off. It'll turn up. No worries.”

Alicia looked like she was asleep on a cluster of smaller rocks at the base of the trail. Her head rested on her backpack and her tight stomach was exposed in the sun. Leaf stood upon my arrival, stretching and bowing to the sun. Lenny gave me a leering look, and jumped to his feet.

“Let's roll!”

I couldn't tell if Alicia opened her eyes behind her sunglasses. Her body betrayed no movement as she said, “What's the plan, Dave? That was hardly a warm-up.”

Dave sat straight on his ledge and pulled a map from his pocket. “Wanna head to Multnomah Falls? It looks like it's a quickie eight or nine. I can radio Krissy and tell her to pick us up there. What d'ya say, Meggie?”

A quick eight or nine more miles? No way!

I found a solid looking rock at the top of the trail, as far away from the edge as possible, and parked myself on it. “You guys go ahead. I'm going to go through my notes, and get more pictures from the summit here.”

“Summit?” Leaf asked. His bare feet were caked in mud. I wondered if they hurt.

“Yeah, I think it'll be important to have a photo and write-up from here.”

“This isn't the summit,” Leaf said, twirling a dreadlock.

“Huh?”

“That's the summit,” he said, pointing to a collection of car-sized boulders above us that looked as if they'd been tossed in the sky by a giant.

No. Oh, no. No.

To him I said, “Oh, yeah. I know. I just meant this might be a better spot for photos.”

“Right-o, Meggie. That's why we waited for ya. Thought ya might want to see 'em all scramble to the top,” Dave said, grinning and getting to his feet.

My heart pounded so fast, I was sure they could see it pumping through my shirt. Andrew came around the corner with a red sweatshirt tied around his waist and a camera over his shoulder. His backpack looked as if it had exploded. Cords and cables were twisted together and spilled from the sides.

“Hiya!” he greeted me, and to Dave he said, “Got it! Good footage from that angle. Took a little spill, though. Gotta get this all sorted out.”

“Were you on a deer trail?” I asked him.

“Deer trail?” he asked as he untangled a mess of black cables longer than me.

“You know those side trails, carved by deer going through the woods.”

“Hell, no! You won't get me off the main path without bonus pay. There are probably all kinds of spiders in there.” He mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Won't get you much of anywhere, Tubby.” Lenny leered at Andrew. “Maybe if Dave hired a real professional we'd be getting somewhere with this show.”

“Knock it off,” Andrew said, glaring at Lenny. He rummaged through a hard black case of gear.

“You get me my airtime or I'll knock you off.” Lenny flexed his pecks.

“This is the most insane production I've ever seen. Can you say imploding?” Andrew said, stalking over to the rocks near me. He adjusted his earpiece and tapped at the microphone mounted in front of his mouth.

Leaf stopped stretching and said to Lenny, “Man, stop with the airtime thing. We're all getting equal time. It's in the contract. What we should be concerned about is the lack of sustainability. An eco-show and look at this.” He motioned to a Clif Bar wrapper and Gatorade bottle on the rocks. “No one's green.”

“Whatcha been smoking, hippie? This show ain't green and I'm not sharing my airtime with you and your pot-smoking following,” Lenny said. “I'm here for the million bucks. This show's gonna make me a TV star.”

Leaf looked like he was about to say something, when Dave clapped his hands. “Enough!”

He flitted over the rocks to Lenny and put an arm around his shoulder. “We'll get ya airtime, mate. No worries. All righty! Let's get Andrew here up the cliff first. He can shoot from there. Let's race.”

Alicia yawned and slowly sat up. Leaf gathered his pack, keeping an eye on Lenny the entire time. Andrew did a check of each contestant's camera and the microphones.

“I need to switch your audio settings. They're not working,” he said, sitting next to Alicia.

She fiddled with a piece of grass, wrapping it around her finger.

Once he finished checking her microphone he looked like he was trying to talk to her about something. She kept her gaze forward toward the river.

Andrew gave up, slung his camera over his shoulder and started the dangerous ascent up the side of the rocks toward the summit.

I needed to stall. They had to go ahead of me.

Think, Meg, think
.

“Hey, guys, do you think I could do a quick interview with each of you before you head out again?”

“Here?” Alicia asked with a doubtful expression on her face. She pushed her sunglasses up on her brow with her middle finger.

“Sure. You know, I'd love to hear your first impressions of the climb, and the Gorge,” I said, pointing out toward the river below us.

“Great idea, Meggie!” Dave said. “Go ahead and do a quick interview. I'm gonna catch up with Andrew.”

Before I could blink, he was halfway up the cliff. I watched him expertly maneuver over the rocks. He grabbed the camera from Andrew and disappeared.

I turned to the remaining three contestants. “Who wants to go first?” I asked, grabbing my notebook, camera and a pen from my pack.