the big shale mountain, its flimsy rock chips visible even from this far away. Ally stopped frequently. I imagined her thinking about the path she had been hiking and trying to figure out a way back, or picking up the odd-shaped pieces of shale, like I tended to, thinking they begged to be painted on. I never was much of an artist though so I always left the shale where it had fallen. It became more difficult to track Ally near the shale mountain because the ground was coarse bits of shale. I had to study carefully trying to piece together what little information the ground would yield. I was glad I hurried to the saddle because this was the kind of tracking that couldn’t be rushed. Landon walked to the bottom of a jagged looking ledge jutting up to the east.
“Don’t climb it,” I said. “It flakes away. If we were on the other side of the mountain you could see Elk Meadows from up there. The mountain overlooks a couple of miles of meadows and the campground is at the end of it.”
“Maybe I can see something from up there anyway,” he said and began climbing.
“The shale isn’t trustworthy. Test the rock before you put your weight on it.”
“You climbed up there and now you’re warning me about it?”
“The way I climbed up doesn’t require handholds and footholds. Go ahead, you have a little while. I won’t go far while you climb up and back. This ground is useless.”
I turned my attention to Ally’s partial track. I followed the direction it was pointing and looked for the next one. Maybe. Maybe this rock had been stepped on. It looked like it had been pressed into the soil fairly recently. I removed the rock and examined the indentation, imagined what kind of a step would make it press into the ground at that particular angle, then looked to the place where I imagined the other step would have fallen. I kept the last sure track in my mind so I could go back to it if necessary. Step by step I figured out Ally’s route. It felt like it took ages but finally she headed away from the shale and the ground became readable again. I didn’t want to leave Landon behind so I found a stick and drew a circle around the track. Then I dragged the stick behind me marking my trail back to the ledge.
“Landon!” I called. “Time to get a move on!”
I heard a motion from above and saw Landon descending the mountain, carefully feeling for footholds.
“I didn’t see anything but empty forest from up there,” he said.
“I got past the tough part.”
“Okay, give me a minute, I’ll catch up.”
“Follow the stick mark in the dirt.”
“Okay.” I knew he’d catch up to me quickly, so I set off again to find Ally’s last track.
Fifteen minutes later Landon still hadn’t appeared. He’s a big boy, Cass, he can take care of himself, I told myself. He’s been doing this a lot longer than you have. But then I thought that even if Landon was a big boy, he’d never considered me to be a big girl and wouldn’t have let me go this far alone. So, again, I went back expecting to meet him hiking down my clearly marked trail. Instead I found him at the bottom of the ledge surrounded by a small pile of handholds and footholds that had been truly untrustworthy.
“It’s about time,” he said.
“I won’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“I told you so.”
“Thanks, now help me. I did something to my leg. Is it broken?”
“You, the EMT, are asking me, the tracker, if your leg is broken? If I saw your tracks and you fell I’d say, ‘Ouch, bet that hurt! I bet that guy’s leg is broken.’ But show me a leg and I have no idea.”
I gave him a hand up. He stood without putting any weight on his leg. He put an arm over my shoulder and I helped him to his pack, then lowered him back down. His blonde hair was a mess and his blue eyes reflected the pain.
“Did you call Strict?”
“No, I was waiting to make a decision.”
“Well, you aren’t hiking anywhere in this condition.”
“Open my pack. I’ve got splints in there. It’s a little plastic bag.” He began poking at his leg, not the gentle feeling motions he used on other people. He’d checked me over for broken bones before and had been very gentle. When he found the most painful spot he began running his fingers over the area but didn’t come to any firm conclusions.
“If you’re in too much pain to put weight on it you can’t hike. I may have miles to go. We can’t tell from here. If you call Strict and he sends a copter in for you maybe Alisondra will hear it and head this way.”
“You’re not going by yourself,” he said determinedly.
I shot him with that look and said with the same determination, “I’m not quitting. Maybe Strict can get someone else to come in on the helicopter. Is this it?” I asked, holding up a little packet of clear plastic.
“Read the label. I’ve got different kinds in there.”
I read a few little plastic packets before I found it.
“Okay, lower leg, got it. This is a splint?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not the kind of splint I learned to use in school.”
“That’s because in school you didn’t have to pack several of them in a backpack.”
“True.”
“Find the scissors.”
I followed his instructions and located the scissors. I cut away his pants leg just above the knee because the leg could be x-rayed though the splint if the material wasn’t in the way. While I worked he radioed Strict. Strict wasn’t very happy. There was a long discussion where Landon told him I wasn’t coming out and that Strict should call Victor. Strict informed us that Victor wasn’t available. How about Rosco? Thez? I untied Landon’s shoe and loosened the laces. I pulled his shoe off as gently as I could and he stiffened with the pain.
“We still have the sock to go. Ready?” I gently pulled off his sock making sure it didn’t catch on his heel.
The splint was like a giant inflatable sock. I opened it and got all the creases out then made sure it could be pulled onto his leg without putting undo pressure anywhere. I slipped it on. Now what?
“Just blow it up,” he instructed. “See the valve?”
“Yeah, I’m just imagining how this is going to get back to Rusty. If I know you…”
He gave me a mischievous smile. “Guess you’ll have to tell him first. Wouldn’t want him getting any wrong ideas. Pinch it a little, then use long, slow breaths. Release the valve to keep the air in between breathes.”
I
