“So what’s the plan?” Sommer asked. “Water’s too deep to ford. How about the rocks up there?” She pointed upstream.
“I’d like to find something more substantial,” Marna said. “I really don’t want to take a swim tonight.”
Sommer reached around and pulled out her mini binoculars from her mesh side pocket. She looked up and down the waterway.
Marna was right. Here, the descent had the water running too fast for her to feel comfortable crossing with her pack, even though it was only about 25 pounds.
The three left the trail to wander upstream, stopping at a place with two fallen trees, one thin and bendy looking, the other thicker.”
“This might be doable,” Marna said as she bent and pushed on the trunk to test its solidity.
Abbie did the same, then climbed onto the trunk, spreading her arms wide. “Everyone shut up. I need to concentrate.”
Abbie took a few steps out, her left foot forward, her right foot sliding up to match it. Her left foot forward, again, not tempting a normal gait. “I think it’s fine.”
She made it all the way across, and now Marna climbed up. “Abbie, I swear you must be half goat. How did you get across this? It’s rolling under my foot.”
“Slide,” Abbie called.
Halfway across, Marna became unsure of her balance. “The trunk isn’t stable. I’m going to shimmy across.” With her backpack full, Marna bent her knees and put her hands on her thighs, then crouched, reaching for the log. “Am I close?”
“Another foot and a half,” Abbie called.
Sommer could only see Marna’s bright pink butt and her safety-orange backpack. And the wibble wobbling of the trunk.
“Agh!” Marna screamed as her hands shot out on either side as she tried to catch her balance.
When she did, the log rolled. Not even a quarter turn, but it was enough to launch Marna into the stream.
Abbie quickly shucked her packs so she was ready to help.
Marna took in a great gulp of air, then allowed herself to go under the water. A moment later, her face came up, and she pushed her pack toward Abbie.
Abbie held onto the branch of a nearby tree as she stepped into the rushing waters to snag a strap and pull it to shore.
Sommer was too far away to do anything.
As Sommer threw a leg over the log and lowered her chest to just above the bark, she hooked her feet on it so she could grip the log between her thighs.
The backpack was the problem, throwing off her balance. Sommer inched along, thinking snail thoughts, so she was slow and steady and not adding to the problem.
Marna gripped the smaller tree in front. She had one boot up beside her hand and was holding tight. Her head bobbed in and out of the water.
Coming down from the summit like that, the water had to be freezing cold. They’d have to get Marna out fast, then dried and warmed.
“Don’t let go. Keep pushing with your foot,” Sommer called as she inched closer.
Abbie was shin deep in the water at Sommer’s side, fingers gripping the handle on Sommer’s pack as she threw her leg back over safe on dry ground.
She shucked her bag and left it behind as she moved down to assess Marna’s situation.
“Marna, listen to me,” Sommer called.
“Yup.”
“That’s a sieve, so you don’t want to let your legs get dragged underneath.” Sommer moved downstream to see what she could see. The danger with sliding under things in running water was that they couldn’t see if there were rocks or limbs under there. If someone were to go under, they might not have enough space to come back out. The pressure of the water could trap a swimmer beneath the surface, and even very good swimmers could drown.
“You’ve got to keep pressing with your foot. Is there any way you can get up on the trunk? I know it’s skinny, but it’s solid enough to hold you without snapping.”
