Halfway down, he turned to cut across the mountain at an angle instead of heading straight down.
A small meadow spread before us, and for the first time I had a chance to really look around. I realized that we were in one of the canyons that cut east of my house. Looking west, way down to where the sides of the canyon came together, I could see a small portion of the Salt Lake Valley. I was startled for a moment. We weren’t that far from my home! Looking down on the valley, I could see the dark outlines of tall buildings, roads, and freeways. Though all of the details were lost in the distance, the city didn’t seem that far away. I looked up at the blue sky. Not a hint of clouds or rain. The sides of the mountains were mostly dry now, though there were occasional patches of weeds that dotted the canyon with spots of green. The south face of the canyon—the one opposite me—was scattered with trees and outcroppings of rock.
Looking at the rocky slope that lay below us, I realized a couple of things. First, it was going to be very hard to climb back up the mountain, for it was steep and hard-going. Second, Mitchell had been very smart in where he had placed his camp. Because it was halfway up the side of the canyon, there was no easy way to get to it from either the top or the canyon floor. And it was high enough up in the mountains that no one was going to stumble upon it unless they knew exactly where it was.
Turning, I looked back toward our camp, but it was completely hidden among the trees. In fact, I saw no trace of any human passing, for Mitchell had been careful not to ever walk the same path so as not to make a trail.
I only had a minute to look around before Mitchell tugged on my cable to get me moving again. We continued down the mountain. The ground turned bare and started to get very rocky as the terrain became steeper and more exposed. We continued at an angle, the slope far too steep to hike straight down. After a while, we had to use our hands to keep from sliding. It was treacherous and we were going very slowly. Eventually, it got so steep that Mitchell had to let go of my cable. He wasn’t worried. It was obvious I could not escape, and he needed both hands to keep from sliding. Afraid that I would trip on my cable, I coiled it up and held it in my left hand, using my right to keep from falling as we slowly worked our way down.
Over the coming weeks, I would learn that they called this part of the trail the crucible. And that’s exactly what it was: a severe test created by a miserable and exhausting trail. The crucible was steep and dangerous. It was on the side of the mountain that faced south, directly into the summer sun. No trees to provide any shade. Steep and rocky. It was difficult for any man to hike along the crucible, let alone a fourteen-year-old girl, let alone a girl who was dragging a steel cable and carrying a thirty-pound container of sloshing water.
I grew to hate the crucible. And I hiked it many times.
Eventually, we scratched and clung our way down to the bottom of the canyon. Here, there was a small spring that seeped out of the canyon floor. For a moment, Mitchell seemed to take a look around, listening for the sound of any voices. He stared up and down the stream as he listened, then looked around the soft earth for any signs of any footprints. Barzee waited patiently while he did his security review.
It was cool in the shade, and the stream was tucked inside a pretty glade. It flowed gently downhill, gathering a little more water out of the aquifer as it descended, but it was never more than a trickle meandering across the soft ground. Along the stream, the trees were green and full, lots of hardwoods, pines and oaks. The grass along the stream was thick, with peppermint and watercress mingled in.