Monday, May 31, 2010
Over the mountain, part five
Please note this is part five, if you've missed anything you'll want to backtrack to 1-4.
So I stood on top of that mountain, part of the Wasatch front, and surveyed what I conquered. Then, I looked down the other side. There was still daylight, why not head down the other side and see how far I got? I walked down a steep slope several yards. I came to where the slope glistened in snow. It stretched out downward so far I couldn't be sure of where it ended. I found a ledge to my right and walked out onto it for a better look.
It was easily as steep down as the rock slide I climbed, only much further down. Maybe even twice the distance. On either side, jagged rocks defied me to find any other path to take. Across the mouth of that steep drop I saw another ledge. It's then I'm sure my eyes began to play tricks on me in the growing shadows of the evening. With the sun setting in the West, the East side of the mountain began to grow dark. Out on that opposite ledge, I thought I saw bones, partially unearthed with some kind of skull. Was it human? I don't know. I had to try and go across to look. That meant stepping across that snow pack.
I thought, if I used my stick and dug my feet in like before, it would be easy to cross over and check out the mystery on the other side. The first stamp of my foot whipped both out from under me. I flew down the snow pack like a human rocket. I couldn't stop myself no matter what I tried. I couldn't get my heels to stop me or the stick. I'm sure if I could be heard up there my long sound off of YAAAAAAAA would have turned every head in town.
A pointed black rock grew in front of me and I soon realized I needed to steer. I put my feet out for it and when I hit that rock, it acted like a ramp and tossed me into the air. I came down hard, knocking the wind out of me. More snow and still sliding. Mercifully, I crashed into a thicket of brush oak. I gasped for air and turned over on my side. I hardly felt the cold of the snow for sake of adrenalin.
My little blue suitcase and stick were still with me. Slowly I pushed myself up from the ground. I stood, perhaps in a bit of shock, staring at the way ahead. I landed all the way at the bottom of the slope of snow. What seemed like a valley area opened up in front of me. Tall trees loomed all around. I looked up to the ridge. No way was I getting back up there. The bone mystery would have to sit for someone else. As I stared, I thought I saw someone on the ridge. I thought I saw someone making their way down toward the snow.
It was more than likely my imagination, but it snapped me out of my stupor. I grabbed up my things and made way into the trees. I walked until I couldn't look back up at the ridge anymore. But I couldn't see a lot of things, darkness grew.
I found a new little stream to follow, this time without any hindrances on either side. But I knew I needed to find a place to hide out for the night. That's when I found the little island where the stream separated and went around either side. On that little island was an arrangement of logs. I lay down and curled up in the corner of those logs, praying that they would hide me for the night.
In that, more than the rock slide, more than the snowy pitfall, I would know real terror. (coming in part six)
Labels:
autism,
bipolar,
memoir,
teen runaway
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