reaching for the next hold, her body didn't move. She just hung there, locked into a one-arm pull up.
She didn't seem to notice the flash of blinding light that suddenly bathed them as she continued to fight her way across the roof. Tristan started counting out loud.
"One Missis " The crash of thunder drown out his voice.
"Okay, Darby! That's it!
We're out of here!" he yelled when the echo had subsided. The wind had risen another notch and much of Darby's long hair had worked its way out of her ponytail. It was fluttering around in the hazy white cloud created by the chalk being blown from the bag tied to her waist. She couldn't hear him.
"Darby!"
There was probably more than fifteen feet of slack rope whipping around in the wind behind her. The next clip was only a few feet away.
He saw her move her feet onto a small in-cut in the roof and hang there like a spider.
"Come on, Darby," he said to himself.
"Make the clip already."
She rocked herself back once, twice and then jumped horizontally through the air at the next hold. She missed it by a good two inches.
Tristan held the rope tight and fell to the ground as he watched Darby drop thirty feet through the dust-darkened air. When her body weight finally hit the rope, it pulled him five feet into the air. He relaxed his grip and let the rope slide quickly through the device attached to his harness, then stopped her about a foot from the ground with an enormous bounce. A moment later her feet were safely on land and she ran at him, pulling him against the cliff wall. She was laughing.
"Shit, Darby! Are you nuts?" The rain had just started and he had to yell over the dull thud of the drops hitting the loose dirt outside the cave.
She put her face in her still-shaking hands and let out a playful scream.
"I was so close! Two more clips and I was at the anchors! I feel strong, man. I'm gonna get that this weekend. Guaranteed." Tristan was helping her untie the rope from her harness when she suddenly grabbed his shoulders with both hands.
"Are you having fun yet!?"
"Jesus, Darby."
Tristan groaned quietly as he knelt next to the small ring of river rocks and blew at the fledgling fire it contained. Every muscle in his body was screaming, punishing him for leaving the sedentary life he'd been living and getting tricked into a climbing trip.
The storm had lost its will after he had spent about an hour out in it being dragged around the backcountry by Darby Moore. They'd crashed through bushes, waded through knee-deep mud, and forded creeks--all with Darby's excited promise that "one of the best rainy day climbs at the New is just up ahead."
He decided against trying to stand again, instead crawling to a small flexible chair he'd found in the van. Thankfully, it was within reach of the cooler and he was able to get his swollen hands around a cold beer bottle. He stared at the cap for a few moments, finally mustering the courage to grab hold of the serrated edge with what was left of his skin and give it a hard twist. The pain was just like he remembered it.
The sun was about halfway set and the reddish light was fighting its way around the clouds still lingering from the afternoon thundershowers. At the edge of the clearing they were camped in, the world seemed to fall away as the tree-covered slope turned steep and dropped a thousand feet to the New River.
Tristan took a deep breath of air that smelled strongly of decaying leaves and campfire smoke and then turned his attention to Darby. She was about twenty-five yards away, standing naked in a trickle of a waterfall coming off one of the cliffs that surrounded their campsite.
The flattening light heightened the contrast between the white skin of her breasts and hips and the deep brown of the rest of her. He watched her as she flipped her long hair over in front of her face and let the water run off it in a long stream.
Even after a couple of years to reflect, he still wasn't sure if he'd figured out their
She didn't seem to notice the flash of blinding light that suddenly bathed them as she continued to fight her way across the roof. Tristan started counting out loud.
"One Missis " The crash of thunder drown out his voice.
"Okay, Darby! That's it!
We're out of here!" he yelled when the echo had subsided. The wind had risen another notch and much of Darby's long hair had worked its way out of her ponytail. It was fluttering around in the hazy white cloud created by the chalk being blown from the bag tied to her waist. She couldn't hear him.
"Darby!"
There was probably more than fifteen feet of slack rope whipping around in the wind behind her. The next clip was only a few feet away.
He saw her move her feet onto a small in-cut in the roof and hang there like a spider.
"Come on, Darby," he said to himself.
"Make the clip already."
She rocked herself back once, twice and then jumped horizontally through the air at the next hold. She missed it by a good two inches.
Tristan held the rope tight and fell to the ground as he watched Darby drop thirty feet through the dust-darkened air. When her body weight finally hit the rope, it pulled him five feet into the air. He relaxed his grip and let the rope slide quickly through the device attached to his harness, then stopped her about a foot from the ground with an enormous bounce. A moment later her feet were safely on land and she ran at him, pulling him against the cliff wall. She was laughing.
"Shit, Darby! Are you nuts?" The rain had just started and he had to yell over the dull thud of the drops hitting the loose dirt outside the cave.
She put her face in her still-shaking hands and let out a playful scream.
"I was so close! Two more clips and I was at the anchors! I feel strong, man. I'm gonna get that this weekend. Guaranteed." Tristan was helping her untie the rope from her harness when she suddenly grabbed his shoulders with both hands.
"Are you having fun yet!?"
"Jesus, Darby."
Tristan groaned quietly as he knelt next to the small ring of river rocks and blew at the fledgling fire it contained. Every muscle in his body was screaming, punishing him for leaving the sedentary life he'd been living and getting tricked into a climbing trip.
The storm had lost its will after he had spent about an hour out in it being dragged around the backcountry by Darby Moore. They'd crashed through bushes, waded through knee-deep mud, and forded creeks--all with Darby's excited promise that "one of the best rainy day climbs at the New is just up ahead."
He decided against trying to stand again, instead crawling to a small flexible chair he'd found in the van. Thankfully, it was within reach of the cooler and he was able to get his swollen hands around a cold beer bottle. He stared at the cap for a few moments, finally mustering the courage to grab hold of the serrated edge with what was left of his skin and give it a hard twist. The pain was just like he remembered it.
The sun was about halfway set and the reddish light was fighting its way around the clouds still lingering from the afternoon thundershowers. At the edge of the clearing they were camped in, the world seemed to fall away as the tree-covered slope turned steep and dropped a thousand feet to the New River.
Tristan took a deep breath of air that smelled strongly of decaying leaves and campfire smoke and then turned his attention to Darby. She was about twenty-five yards away, standing naked in a trickle of a waterfall coming off one of the cliffs that surrounded their campsite.
The flattening light heightened the contrast between the white skin of her breasts and hips and the deep brown of the rest of her. He watched her as she flipped her long hair over in front of her face and let the water run off it in a long stream.
Even after a couple of years to reflect, he still wasn't sure if he'd figured out their
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