10

"Sure, but don't you have enough to carry already?"

"I'm OK. I could carry more."

Suddenly I was suspicious, "Is this your good deed for the day? Is this like helping an old lady across the street or something?"

"Well, maybe," he grinned at the idea. "It's just that you are going pretty slow now, and we don't know how much more walking there is to do. If it will help you to go faster I would be glad to carry some of your stuff?"

Well, I was touched and outraged and, at the same time, I saw that there was truth in what he said. I was holding everyone back a little. Maybe I should take him up on this kind offer.

"Who put you up to this?"

"Nobody."

"You thought this up on your own?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think it's great. This is like something a Boy Scout in a book might do. How about carrying my sleeping bag?"

"Ok. How much does it weigh?"

"About 4 pounds, but where will you put it?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," and so saying he took the sleeping bag, tucked it into his pack and started to walk away.

"Hey, wait."

"Yeah?"

"Here," and I gave him a 30-ought-six slug I had picked up the day before. "Keep this to remind you sometime of your good deed and how much I appreciated it."

He thanked me and soon we were under way again. I don't know if it was the 10-percent reduction in the weight of my pack, or just my amazement at the whole episode, but my spirits revived and I trudged doggedly on. The day faded around us, and the mountains slowly changed to mere silhouettes against a sky filled with roiling clouds.

"Road ahead!" was the excited shout from the front of the line. Shortly we were standing on it, just a dirt road in the twilight, but one that was obviously still in use. Our gamble had paid off. We were somewhere, but where that somewhere was was anyone's guess. The abandoned road ended here. To the left the new road seemed to be a continuation of the abandoned one and stretched away as far as the eye could see. To the right, it headed steeply up the hillside, more or less back toward the way we had come but at a higher level.

"Which way?" I was dazed and confused, but Clay took one look at his compass and said with great confidence, "That way" and pointed up the hill. Some of us groaned. More uphill walking? We are out of water. We don't know where we are. The rains must surely be coming. Isn't it time to make camp? More than one scout was near the limit of his endurance. We talked briefly about just camping there in the middle of the abandoned road. That brought tears of apprehension to one Scout's eyes. He did not want to sleep in the middle of a road, even if it was an abandoned road. Still, it was that or one final push.

We talked it over and decided that the stronger scouts would sling on ahead and find the best possible campsite up on the top of the ridge where the ground would be more level, then they would look for water while there was still a little light. Those of us who were worn out would continue up at a slower pace, and meet them at the top.

So the tired bunch began the climb. The last of the daylight faded and occasional raindrops plopped on the dry, dusty road. We worked our way up and up. I kept them talking, rested frequently and promised that when we reached the top that would be the end of hiking for this day. Mike was limping badly, and I could tell that he needed to get his pack off his back soon.