Both of our packs were at least a third lighter, and I felt better about the load as I slid it out the door and onto the ground before following. Wes’s pack was still over fifty pounds, but mine was a much more manageable twenty-five or so, and I knew as we walked that some of that weight would go away as we ate the rations.
The bright light dazzled my eyes for a moment before they adjusted, looking out on the breathtaking view. Despite the cold, it was beautiful, and I looked around appreciatively at the mountains around me. I understood what Wes had wanted to do before this little trip went to hell, and I felt my heart swell. “Wow, it is a nice view,” I told him as Wes pulled his pack on.
He held my pack up for me, letting me cinch in the shoulder and waist belts until they were perfect before he kissed my cheek quickly and smiled. “It is, but I think I have the nicest view right here. Now, let’s get going.”
With a compliment like that, how could I resist?
Chapter 5
Wes
By mid-afternoon, Robin’s mood had changed. I knew it would, and I’ll own up to it that a lot of it was my own fault. Robin thought she was in pretty good shape, and so did I, but this was on another level.
Robin wasn’t a soldier, and she didn’t know how to move over the terrain. She didn’t know how to swing her arms or how to roll her shoulders so that the constant weight on her back would shift back onto her hips sometimes, letting her chest expand and take in the occasional deep breath. She was pretty tired before we stopped for our noon meal, even with us taking breaks, but by two in the afternoon, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on.
“Hold on, Wes,” she panted, stopping to lean against a rock. “I need to take a break.”
I nodded tersely and slung my pack to the ground. I was frustrated, both with her and with myself. I was kicking myself for picking such an ambitious route, nothing for a soldier, but a lot for an engineer. I had expected her to be slow, but not as slow as she was, and I knew that we wouldn’t reach the lake I had targeted that day. When Robin snapped at me, it surprised me.
“You know, not all of us spent four years being an Airborne Ranger.”
I felt a thousand little retorts come to my mind but bit them back, turning to walk away without a word. Instead, I walked into a grove of trees about a hundred meters away, losing sight of Robin. As I walked, I talked to myself in my head. We were in a situation that even I hadn’t planned for, far beyond the abilities I had expected her to use when we started out on this trip. She was actually doing her best to try and keep up, and she was doing pretty good overall. I had done about the same my first ruck march when I had been in basic training, dragging across the finish line of the ten miles while the drill sergeants looked like they could go another ten miles twice and still be able to crank out fifty push-ups.
I remembered early in our walk, about an hour after we had left the plane, I had carefully looped our cord four times to create a stronger line, which I used to help lower her down a ten meter rock face before tackling the same face freehanded. In hindsight, I should have taken the longer, shallower path, letting Robin rest more often and get her footing easier.
I thought about what was Robin’s biggest challenge as I walked through the trees, recognizing it was her footing. At least that was something I could help her with immediately. I reached for my hip where I had my survival knife, a much heavier duty Bowie knife that I had kept with me since my days in Iraq. Sure, I had taken some ribbing from the guys about copying movie stars, but the fact was, that knife had saved my life more than once. I looked around for what I wanted, finding it pretty quickly. It was the Canadian Rockies, after all, and pine trees were pretty much everywhere. I grabbed the sapling and cut at the trunk, hacking it down in about two minutes.
When I came back out of the grove, I saw Robin sitting on a rock with a worried look on her face, and I kicked myself again. She had to be frightened being left in the mountains by herself. I noted to myself not to ever do that again without telling her what the hell I was planning.
Carrying the sapling over, I showed it to her, alternating between the saw tooth back and the razor-sharp blade to trim it quickly to the proper length. “The wood is a bit green, so it’s going to be springy,” I explained as I handed it over to her, “but it should help with footing and stability on some of the rockier ground.”
Robin set the staff I made aside and got to her feet, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head on my chest. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I’ve just been so frustrated that I’m slowing you down so much that I let it out against you. You haven’t done anything wrong.”