Paradise Thriller

Don't Look Down

It wasn't a difficult climb, but considering they were all novice climbers and Brogan hadn't seen fit to provide either climbing shoes with sticky rubber soles, or helmets, it wasn't exactly going to be a walk in the park, either. She fastened a rope at her waist, and studied the rock wall for a few moments before picking the best place to start her assent.

"I need someone on the ground here to handle the belay."

"The what?" Jolene asked.

"To let the rope out gradually, take out the slack, and lock it off if I start to fall."

"Ok," Jolene said. "Call me stupid, but how is one of us holding a rope at the bottom of the cliff going to stop you from falling off when you're climbing up it? I mean, doesn't gravity work in the other direction?"

Alison explained that, as lead climber, she would insert the steel wedges – chocks – into cracks in the rock face, and thread the ropes through the carabiners – oval rings with spring-loaded openings – that she'd attached. By putting these protections in every 10 feet or so, with the line running from the harness around her waist, through the carabiners, and then back down to one of them on the ground with a belay device attached to their harness, the distance she could fall was minimized.

"About 20 feet, depending on the slack." It was Luke who had spoken, and Alison looked over at him in surprise. He'd been silent, standing on the edge of the group like a shadow, and she'd almost forgotten he was there.

"They look like those plastic clips I used to hook onto my backpack when I was in school," Miranda said dubiously. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and didn't look like she was in any hurry to get up and try out the gear.

"Solid aluminum. And take my word for it," Alison said, "they're a lot stronger than they look."

She looked over at Luke. "I get the feeling you've done some climbing," she said, and he shrugged and looked away. Alison persisted. "So Luke, you want to belay for me?" Luke didn't answer. He was looking back down the trail they had followed, and Alison wondered if he'd even heard her.

"I'll do it." Travis said, reaching for the belay device.

"Have you ever done this before?" Alison asked.

"Just tell me what to do," he said. She explained while he put on a harness, hooked in the belay device, and ran the rope through it. She demonstrated how to "lock off" in the event she fell.

Daryl came over to stand beside her. "I can follow and test the top rope, once you get an anchor up there, if you want."

"Yeah, thanks." Alison began to climb, calling back to the others to watch the path she and Daryl took so that they could find hand and footholds easier when it was their turn.

She climbed slowly, more for the benefit of the other contestants watching her than because there was any particular difficulty involved. She fed the rope through the clip on her waist, belaying as she went, wedging the steel chocks into small cracks in the rock every 10 feet or so, then running the rope through the carabiners she'd carefully attached before leaving the ground. There was a small ledge about one-third of the way up, but fortunately no overhangs, and the uneven surface made for fairly easy footholds. She stopped on the ledge, and signaled that everything was fine, then continued.

Had Gwen made this same climb? She looked for any indication in the rock face that it had been climbed before, but found none. It would be hard to tell, though. Steel chocks were easily removed. It was common practice in traditional, or "trad" climbing, for a lead climber to wedge them into cracks in the rock, and their partner, climbing behind, to pull them out. A "clean" climb left no trace behind.

Before she'd owned her own business, Alison had spent her vacation every year on trips to various climbs with a small group of enthusiasts. Now she mostly kept up with their adventures online on a couple climbing forums she nostalgically visited. This trip to Reality Island was the first "vacation" she'd had since the year she opened the gym. Compared to the sheer granite walls she'd scaled in Wyoming, today's climb was child's play. But still, it felt good to feel the solid rock against her feet, to search for and discover a handhold, and to push herself ever upward. When she climbed, she felt like there was no obstacle too great for her to surpass, no challenge too tough for her to make it through. She'd treated her goal of building her own health club like it was a mountain to be climbed, and felt the same sense of exhilaration when she reached the summit.

Gwen had climbed with her a few times, but never really understood the satisfaction Alison found in the slow and careful ascent. Gwen far preferred skiing down the black diamond trail on a snow-covered mountain at breakneck speeds, or soaring off the northern California sea cliffs on a hang glider, to rock climbing, where progress was measured inch by inch and hour by hour. Still, Alison thought, this particular obstacle wouldn't have proved too much of a challenge to Gwen, especially if rather than being the lead climber, she had simply used a top rope once an anchor was established. She doubted very much if her sister would have volunteered to lead the climb.

Alison was about two-thirds of the way up when she reached a section of the wall that was completely flat and smooth. She stretched her arms out in both directions, but found no handholds or footholds within reach. If she was on a top rope it would be no problem, but as the lead climber she had no support except the protection she put in the rock herself as she climbed. She studied the rock wall; at least the climb had gotten a bit more interesting. She would have to go back down below the last spot where she'd put in a chock, far enough to rappel over about six feet to where the climbing surface was more accommodating.

Alison backtracked until she was sufficiently under the last chock to give herself enough rope to move laterally across the rock face, then leaned back, bracing her feet on the wall, most of her weight supported by the rope she was holding that ran from her harness up through the carabiner, then down to where Travis was belaying on the ground. She looked over her shoulder and gestured to Travis, pointing to the right to let him know what she was about to do, when suddenly the rope in her hands went completely slack and she dropped backwards off the face of the cliff.

She instinctively went into fall position. Her body relaxed, and she kept herself upright, facing the rocks, knees slight bent, while her mind rapidly calculated. She'd been about five or six feet under the carabiner that had snapped, which put her roughly the same distance above the next protection under it. So, even including the extra slack she'd had in the rope, the most she should fall was about 17 feet, which she should be able to handle with nothing worse than a few scrapes. That was assuming Travis had reacted quickly enough and locked off the belay device.

Because if he hadn't, she was dead.

Writer's Note

What do you think happened?