See John write

Stephen Jacobs awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes and looked around for his watch. He could tell from the light that he had fallen asleep for way too long. Certainly, Ethan hadn’t patiently waited outside the tent. He would have been banging on the tent walls or something to try to wake his dad up. I’m sure he’s gone down to the lake, he thought.

After pulling on his jeans and a sweatshirt, Stephen leaned down and kissed Samantha on the cheek.

“I’m going down to join Ethan for some early morning fishing,” he whispered.

“OK,” Samantha mumbled as she pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her shoulders.

Stephen tried to unzip the tent door as quietly has he could.

“Dad, wait,” Brandon whispered from the corner of the tent.

Stephen turned to see Brandon pulling on his sweatshirt too.

“I didn’t even know you were awake, Bud.”

“I told you I wanted to come too, remember.”

“Of course, I do.” Stephen smiled.

Outside the tent, Brandon stepped into his boots and was ready to tear off down the trail.

“Hey, little man. You better tie those boots before you take off in such a hurry,” Stephen said in his best dad voice.

Brandon immediately dropped down and hurriedly tied his boots. In a flash, he was back to his feet.

“Brandon? Forgetting something?” Stephen asked, holding up Brandon’s fishing pole.

Brandon gave a little chuckle and sprinted back. “C’mon, Dad, let’s get going,” he said.

Stephen yawned as he picked up his tackle box and pole. I don’t know if I ever had that much energy, he thought to himself. Brandon bounced down the trail toward the lake, jumping over tree roots and skidding around the bend.

~~~~~~~~

The steep slopes of the high Uintah mountains were formed as great glaciers slowly slid down, grinding down the rocks, churning the soil, and leaving depressions that thousands of years later would become a series of small natural lakes. Where the glaciers met with the deep layers of solid granite, the ice and rock carved each other in a battle of gravity and friction. These battles left randomly placed scars on the face of the mountains, scars of steep boulder fields where no vegetation could grow.

Ethan walked along through the towering pines. He had made his way over several ridges and small streams. He was certain that right beyond the large ridge he could see up ahead, he would drop down and find the trail that stretched between the campground and Peterson Lake. Ethan imagined taking the short hike up to the lake with his dad and finding themselves the only ones there, pulling big trout out of the clear waters one after another.

The slope grew steeper and Ethan quickened his pace to hurry and reach the top of the ridge. In a couple of spots it was so steep, he had to stop to find a good foothold. Through the trees, all he could see was the cloudy sky. Finally, he reached the top and stepped out of the trees.

Ethan took in a deep breath. The steep down-slope in front of him was an enormous boulder field. The grey and black granite boulders looked so desolate next to the evergreens that lined its edge. From the top of the ridge, the boulder field descended sharply for forty or fifty feet. And it stretched several hundred yards in either direction.

On the far side of the boulder field the trees were thick. Ethan studied the treetops. He could make out a distinct line that he was sure must be the trail. Taking a long look up and down the line of grey boulders, Ethan searched for a path down. He spotted an area where a couple of large boulders looked to have good footing. Excited to see if he had truly found the trail, he hurried down between the boulders. The slope was so steep, he had to sit and slide down the rough stone.

Below the large boulders, he slid along to his right until he found a slot to move farther down. Back and forth he made his way down the field. When he had descended half way down, the rocks became smaller and less stable. Several times, Ethan stepped on what looked like good footing only to have it slide right out from under him and tumble down, crashing against the other rocks. Ethan kept his knees bent and his backside close to the ground to keep from taking a hard fall.

Still fifteen feet from the tree line, Ethan stopped. The slope had turned almost completely vertical. The footing was loose and treacherous. He glanced up over his left shoulder and then down below.

Too far to jump, he thought.

He scooted farther to his right, searching for any good footing. Feeling unsure of himself, he turned around to face the rocks. Now crawling on his hands and feet, he slowly made his way down, a bit at a time, rocks breaking loose under him. The sharp edges of the loose stones scraped at his knees and the palms of his hands.

As it seemed that the whole pile of rocks was giving way and sliding down, Ethan’s left foot caught the top of a larger rock that brought him to a stop. He tested it with his weight; it didn’t move. With a large sigh, Ethan smiled.

OK, OK. That’s all I needed.

With both feet securely on the rock, he looked over his shoulder. It was still a good drop to the ground.

Sizing up the distance, he thought, It’s like when I jumped down from the roof after putting up the Christmas lights with dad. No big deal.

He carefully slid his body down until he was gripping the rock with his hands. He bent both knees and searched for footing that would allow him to push away from the rocks enough to land on the dirt.

Drawing in a deep breath, he began counting slowly in his mind.

One … two … THREE!

With all he had, he pushed himself away from the rock. Arms and legs flailing in the air and gravity sucking him down toward the rocks below.

Ethan’s right foot landed hard on the edge of a football-sized rock. The pain in his ankle caused his whole leg to buckle and he fell hard into the pile of loose rocks.

“Ahhhgg!” He screamed out. Rolling to his side, he grabbed his elbow and felt the warm blood oozing through the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He glanced at his hand to see the bright red blood. “Shoot!”

Writhing from the pain, Ethan slowly tried to sit up and get himself off the rocks and onto the dirt that was only two feet away. His ankle was already throbbing. Carefully he scooted over to the trunk of the nearest pine tree. He leaned against the trunk and gritted his teeth. He wanted to cry.

He spun his head around as if looking for someone to come to his rescue. Nothing but trees and rocks and sky. Ethan swallowed hard. Drawing in a quick, unsteady breath, he pulled his right knee up towards his chest.

All the confidence he had had when he walked away from Mirror Lake evaporated in an instant. Tipping his head back to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks, he looked up at the towering trees. Suddenly, he felt so small. He shoved his fingers through his hair and then wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

Oh, man. What am I doing? What if I can’t walk out of here? Crap!

He rolled his pant leg up to take a look at the damage. The kneecap had taken a blow, but there was no blood and as Ethan rubbed it with his fingers there was no sharp pains.

Then he tried to move his ankle.

“Ouch!” He screamed aloud.

As a soccer player, he had rolled his ankle plenty of times. He knew that often he could walk it off and that the pain would subside after a few minutes. He also knew that if he sat there the ankle would swell and tighten up.

OK, Ethan, he thought to himself. You could really be in bad shape if you don’t get up and get moving.

The elbow was still stinging. Ethan checked it again, still bleeding. Then gathering up his courage, he rolled onto his left knee and used his left hand to brace against the tree. Gingerly he stood up, testing his right ankle.

A sharp pain shot clear up his right leg. Ethan bit his lip. He wanted to scream … and cry.

Just walk it off. Walk it off. Gotta get moving.

Limping heavily, he headed away from boulder field.