There we were, preparing to split up and find help. Sawyer earnestly talked us through the route on his topographic map, placed it in Marshall’s hand with a compass, and after a quick refresher course in orienteering, told us we would probably not get lost since the trail was well-marked. Thanks. I hugged my sisters, waved at Sawyer, and Marshall and I set off. Marshall’s watch told us that it was already 8:00 a.m., and I shuddered to think of our parents’ distress. Had they gone looking for us? Perhaps they were on their way to the ranger station now. When they noticed that Caleb’s satellite messenger was gone, they would likely send out a group to find us. They would freak out when they saw it was lost in the avalanche. They’d follow the GPS coordinates of our messenger to the snowy aftermath of the avalanche and think the worst.
“You know, Marsh,” I started, “it was probably extra good that we left the others back on the ridge in case the rescuers track down our location from the satellite messenger.”
He nodded and for the first time, looked a bit reassured. As we made our way down the mountain, the snow changed into big boulder-sized chunks of snow. Up where Lydie and I landed the snow was packed tight and fairly level, but down here it almost looked like large rocks coated with snow. We hiked past several broken trees that looked as if they had been dragged a long ways down the mountain. “Maybe we’ll find your pack in this mess,” I said, but Marshall just shrugged and kept walking. I guess he was really beating himself up for losing his pack.
Then it occurred to me that I still did not know what his avalanche experience was. Although he was rarely in a talkative mood, I was curious, and I thought the conversation would help pass the time as we walked in the direction of the ranger station, which was at least five miles away. Five miles on the side of a mountain. On a long walk such as the one ahead of us, I would appreciate some chatter.
“Were you buried?” I asked. In response, Marshall stopped walking and looked squarely at me. “I mean, in the avalanche,” I added. “Did you dig yourself out or did you manage to escape the rush?”
He took a long, slow breath and then began, “Remember when I yelled at you to try to swim and stay on top of the surface?” I nodded. He continued, “Well, just before I said that, I looked up and saw the avalanche.” He stopped and the grim look on his face almost made me regret asking, but after a minute he went on, “Marlee, it was the biggest, fiercest act of nature I’ve ever seen. It was roaring down the mountain at us, and I thought we were all done for.” He looked down and slowly shook his head. “I honestly didn’t think I had any chance with a pack on my back, so I unbuckled it, shouted to you to swim, and started swimming myself. Miraculously I managed to stay close to the surface, but Marlee, I purposely let my pack go!” he exclaimed in self-disgust.
“Marshall, you did the right thing. Survival, Man! Your life is worth more than any pack!”
“But you all made it out with your packs on. And my pack had our emergency communication!”
“Marsh, who knows, maybe if you had worn your pack, you would have gotten snagged up by one of those trees we saw all busted up toward the bottom. Or maybe, had you worn your pack, you would have gotten stuck in the bottom of the snow and never climbed out! Please don’t beat yourself up over this. We’ll work through this together.”
He lifted his eyes, smiled his appreciation and quietly said, “Thanks, Marlee. I needed to hear that.” I smiled, glad that I had been able to encourage him – at least for now. We didn’t have time to hold a pity party.
“So, we keep going down?” I asked.
“Until we get to the end of the avalanche, where it runs out between those trees,” he pointed. “Then we should turn toward the west and keep just below the ridge at tree line until we hit the trail. Hopefully we can find the trail, and then a few miles on it and we should reach the ranger station. Assuming the ranger is at the station, he or she can call for help and hopefully send word to our parents.”
Our parents! I could not imagine how much trouble we would be in for this. Even though I did not want to think about it, I knew we deserved it. Sneaking off in the middle of the night to climb a peak this early in the summer when snow was still melting? We probably had a long lecture ahead of us when we joined up with them.
Climbing down is usually harder on a climber’s knees than climbing up, and this became especially true in the rubble of snow boulders. Keeping up with Marshall’s pace was strenuous, and I was nearly panting for air. Then I noticed my stomach growl, and remembered that none of us had had anything more than a handful of gorp since last night’s supper. I knew that between the five packs, we had enough gorp and granola bars to last a day, and thankfully Sawyer had packed one meal for us all. Good thing that one meal was in his pack. Before Marshall and I set out, we decided to wait to eat, just in case our ordeal became further extended.
As the terrain changed and we walked along tree line, the footing grew easier as we left the path of the avalanche. At least the hike had eased up in difficulty, but I needed a drink of water, so I called ahead to Marshall to ask him to stop for a moment. He looked annoyed and checked his watch, then checked the sky, and then squinted into the distance as he scanned for the trail. As I indulged in the icy water from my bottle, I noticed his brow wrinkle in concern. “Everything okay?” I cautiously asked as I quickly slathered a glop of sunscreen on my face. Sunburn is a big concern in the mountains since there is less atmosphere between climbers and the sun. I knew enough to take the precaution. Fried skin would not help our situation.
“We just need to hurry if we’re going to make it to help today. If we’re not there by 2:00, I think we’ll need to turn back and return to the girls and Sawyer.”
I nodded slowly, thinking about his proposition. He was right that we did not have the gear to camp out, so we would need to return to the group before nightfall. I had not even considered that we might not make it to the ranger station today, but as I looked over his shoulder at the map, I realized that it was quite possible we would not make it. Mountain miles take much longer than smooth-sidewalk-in-town-miles. Five miles could easily take most of the day, especially when we had so little food to energize our bodies. I grabbed a handful of raisins and peanuts for myself, passed another handful to Marshall, and then said, “Onward.” Marshall nodded silently, took another look at his watch, and resumed hiking, still looking concerned.
Marshall silently pointed out a rock cairn, which is a small heap of rocks that people have constructed to mark the trail. We headed toward it, assuming it marked the trail we needed to take.
After another twenty minutes, Marshall held up his hand and stopped. Not sure why we were stopping, I sent a questioning look his way. He shook his head and said, “The Worst Chivalry Award goes to me.” I shrugged my shoulders, not understanding what he said.
“You know, chivalry, it’s like manners, how a guy treats a lady,” he explained. I nodded slowly, still not sure where he was going with this conversation. “Let me carry your pack,” he clarified.
“Oh! I see. Yeah, that would be great if you would, Marshall. I’d appreciate the break. Then maybe I’ll be able to keep up with you,” I added. I happily shrugged the pack off my back. Even though it probably only weighed fifteen pounds since we had packed just enough for our night hike, I felt very relieved when Marshall lifted it out of my hands. “Thanks.”
Marshall mumbled, “I just feel bad that it took me this long to offer.”
“I probably would not have let you carry it earlier anyway,” I said. It was true. While I appreciated Marshall’s chivalry, I also felt a need to prove myself and to not appear weak.
Just then we spotted a game trail stemming off toward the south. Ironically, the game trail looked easier to follow than the common trail we were on, and I almost thought it was the hiking trail. I stopped, remembering Sawyer telling us the trail was well-marked so we probably wouldn’t get lost, and recalling a dozen times when I looked to Dad who seemed to know instinctively which trail to take. Marshall surveyed our surroundings and after a long, quiet moment, he motioned to an almost hidden branch on the side of “the” trail that clearly had a sawn edge. “Trail clearers last summer sawed that fallen branch,” he showed me. Then I saw the other end across the trail, also with a sawn edge. Phew. We weren’t lost. Yet.
“What are you daydreaming of eating?” Marshall broke my train of thoughts.
“Hmm?” It took me a moment to think. “Oh, cheese pizza sounds good.”
“Cheese pizza? Of all the millions of options for pizza toppings, you’d pick cheese?” Marshall challenged.
“What would you pick? What are you daydreaming of eating?” I prodded.
“I am daydreaming about eating two big beef enchiladas smothered in cheese and hot sauce. And for pizza, I would pick taco pizza any day, any time,” he declared.
My eyes widened. “Wow. Is the snow making you daydream about Mexico?”
“Nah,” Marshall casually explained, “but I love Mexican food. Any day. Any time.”
I laughed. The conversation definitely helped to pass the time. Speaking of food, I noticed that the sun was nearly directly above us, indicating that it was very close to noon. But my stomach had already told me that. My stomach, and a nagging headache that had been taunting me for the past mile or so. “Marshall,” I began, but stopped for fear of being a hindrance.
“Yeah?” he asked politely.
“Uh, I,” I planned to ask him if he had any pain reliever for my headache, but I suddenly felt very weak.
“Marlee, are you okay?” Marshall stepped toward me and put a supportive hand on my back, almost as if he expected me to collapse.
“I think so. I mean,” yikes, this hunger and headache are making me weak, I thought, and then tried again to ask for help, “Do we have any headache medicine? I just feel really weak all of a sudden,” I admitted.
Marshall quietly groaned to himself, no doubt thinking of the time. I hated to be a bother, but I knew that if I didn’t take care of myself, we would have two people to evacuate, which would be more than a bother. Marshall thought for a moment and then quickly looked at my forehead. “We forgot to take care of your cut,” he murmured.
I nodded, “Honestly though, I think this headache is due to hunger and stress more than the cut.”
“But what if you have a concussion?” he wondered aloud. I did not know what to say to that. I probably would remember a hit strong enough to cause a concussion, but then again, I was unaware that my forehead was cut until Marshall first commented. I’d never had a concussion before and didn’t know what it felt like.
Dealing with the issue at hand, Marshall took charge and had me sit in the snow. “Start sipping water,” he handed me one of my bottles out of my pack before reaching for our gorp, “and eat a couple handfuls of this.” Thankfully we had divvied up our remaining first aid kit from Ellie’s pack before splitting up, and Marshall quickly located a mild pain reliever, carefully measured the appropriate dose, and watched me closely as I swallowed the medicine with some more fresh water. “You’re not doing too well are you?” Marshall gently asked. Normally I would have been offended at the negative comment, but there was no use in pretending this time.
