Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me; Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

By Cassandra Hope

(Copyright June 1997)

--Eldorado--Edgar Allen Poe

Others of the group joined Ben and soon he found himself the center of attention as he identified each track and described the animal responsible for it.

"Thanks, Ben, for adding another facet to this trip."

Squatting beside a series of tracks, Ben raised startled eyes to Phil. When had she joined the group? He rose to his feet and stammered an apology. "I'm sorry, Phil, if I've overstepped my..."

"Ben!" she gently interrupted him.

"Yes, Phil?"

"Shut up!"

His face relaxed into a carefree smile. "Yes, Phil."

"Everyone here," she waved her hand at the group clustered around them, "has benefited from your unique expertise. I certainly know I have!" Others murmured their agreement. "There's no need to apologize for enriching our perceptions of the Canyon, Ben. That's why we're here. Please carry on." And with a slow smile that reached into the depths of his eyes making Phil's heart beat faster, Ben did exactly that until the group was called to share Carol's famous blueberry pancakes.

* * *

Phil strolled with her coffee cup down to the river. She cradled the cup in her hands and inhaled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee recalling the abject apology tendered by the Hunter brothers. Honestly, all they had to do was ask her to make the coffee and she would've gladly done it. But...it had amused her to watch them suffer their own brand of self-inflicted punishment. She had never said that she wouldn't make the coffee, they had just assumed it. 'Serves them right,' she thought, 'after all the things they've done to me.' She momentarily felt guilty recalling the jokes she'd played on them, but she could honestly say that she had never made any of them sick. Now her brothers were a different story. She lifted her face to the freshening breeze and tried to judge the weather for the rest of the day--probably hot and dry, as usual--perfect river-running weather.

The clatter of rocks slipping and sliding beneath a foot indicated the approach of someone. Phil neither encouraged nor discouraged its owner. Let whomever it was make their own decision. If they wanted to join her--fine. If not--well that was fine, too. She just wished they would hurry and make up their mind. But the person refused to make his/her presence known. It was almost as if he/she was afraid to intrude on her solitude. The coffee cup masked Phil's snort. That in itself was unusual. Usually the participants were anything but worried about intruding on her solitude. That was why she treasured these brief moments to herself.

She smiled inwardly; there was no place for 'lone wolves' on her field trips. Everyone, including herself, got to know everyone else. Many friendships begun on one of these field trips had lasted past the final day.

She remembered back six years ago to her first trip with the Hunter brothers. Lost in memories of the friendships formed during that trip, a wistful expression flitted across her face. Too bad she hadn't fallen in love with Travis. He was a great guy, but each kiss they shared had been overshadowed by memories of Ben. He was a great friend, but she didn't love him enough and she had hated telling him that. He had smiled and said he understood before taking her in his arms and kissing her once more. Their friendship grew and Phil was there when Travis met Carol on one of the excursions two years later.

Memories of that trip brought a blush to her cheeks-how could she have lost control like that. Now they would never let her forget--calling her Spuds McKenzie after the mascot for that beer company. She sighed, maybe they would hold their collective tongues and not reveal that sordid piece of McKenzie history!

Her faint smile held a touch of sadness as she recalled the growing attraction between Carol and Travis that had, not surprisingly, led to marriage and she was there for their wedding. The happiness of her friends had only accentuated the loneliness in her life. She had turned to Lloyd Hope thinking that maybe he would be the one to replace Ben's memories in her heart. She loved Lloyd in a way she had loved no other man, not even Ben. It was like she had known him all her life. She could talk to him about anything, things she couldn't discuss with her brothers. But, their love was not the all-consuming, passionate, live-only-for-one-other kind of love. She'd only felt that kind of love for Ben but it hadn't been enough. Her love hadn't been enough for Ben.

A throat being cleared interrupted her reverie. She closed her eyes, shaking away the bittersweet memories. Glancing over her shoulder, she let the corner of her mouth lift in a curve hiding her disquiet behind the smile. "Are you going to stand back there all day?"

"I didn't want to intrude..." Ben dug the toe of his canvas shoe into the sand and kicked it forward, sending a spray of sand onto the back of Phil's legs.

"If you didn't want to intrude, Ben, then you wouldn't have joined me." Flicking the sand from the back of her legs, Phil turned to face Ben. He stood slightly behind her holding a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry." He motioned to her legs, his eyes drawn to their lightly tanned shapeliness. He quickly pulled his eyes away from her legs when he realized he was staring. His face became rosy with embarrassment and he stammered a short apology.

"Don't worry about it, Ben. I found out a long time ago that a little sand never hurt anyone, especially not me." She smiled at him over the rim of her cup.

Ben turned his own cup around in his hand, his eyes glued to the amber liquid within. He carefully took a sip of the hot brew. "I wanted to thank you for the tea. Travis said you made it for me."

"I know how much you liked a cup of hot tea. I had it in my supplies, so..."

"Thank you, anyway."

"You're welcome, Ben." Phil turned back to the river and Ben moved closer to her. They both watched the water flow past them on it's way to the rapids they would shortly be negotiating.

Ben cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. "I wanted to apologize for last night, Phil. I never meant for that to happen."

Phil shook her head striving to keep her features deceptively composed. "Don't apologize, Ben. I'm as much to blame as you are. I don't know why..." her soft voice faltered, "I just don't seem to be able to act rationally around you. It looks like I would have learned how to by now."

"Then you're not angry with me?" There was a double meaning to his question.

Phil brought her cup to her lips and inhaled its stimulating aroma before taking a small sip. She turned her head slightly and carefully scanned the face turned to her. She read the question that burned in the depths of his eyes. How easily she could once again become lost in those eyes--drowning in their glacier blue depths. She returned her gaze to the depths of her cup, taking another sip before answering him.

Ben watched the emotions flit across her face and held his breath as she shook herself and answered his question.

"No, Ben, I'm not angry with you." A slow smile began to creep across his face but was quickly extinguished as she softly added, "I was angry for awhile, but that passed. And I hated you, especially after..." She caught herself before she mentioned Lindy. She wouldn't make the mistake she had made with Cat Madden. How could she explain to this man staring so intently at her the daughter he had never known? In a flash of insight, she knew how it would affect him and how he would react. She would not cause him that kind of pain on this trip. Maybe after the trip was over and he could deal with his grief in private--maybe then she would tell him about his daughter.

"Especially after? After what, Phil?" As soft as it had been spoken, Ben had heard the words and saw the quick flash of pain in her eyes before the shutters slammed down. She had hated him--which was understandable. But what had happened, other than his betrayal, to cause the hate?

Phil turned her back on him taking refuge in her coffee. What could she say that was close enough to the truth to not be a lie? She had never been able to lie convincingly and Ben could always spot one when she trotted one out. She swallowed and bowed her head. "I hated you after I realized that you were never going to send for me, that you were never going to come to your senses and realize how much we loved each other, that you had lied to me when you said nothing would come between us. I hated you for dragging me out of my shell and making me feel things that I would never forget--experience things that would haunt my dreams for years. I hated you because I couldn't have you or the dreams we had shared." She turned back to face him all the hurt boiling to the surface. "But, mostly, I hated you for teaching me how to love and then taking that all away from me." She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I put all of that behind me years ago, Ben. I don't hate you. I guess I never really did. It just helped me get over you."

She turned back to the river and closed her eyes. In a voice barely above the sounds of the river she continued, "I stopped loving you a long time ago. I stopped looking for you each time I heard a particular song, or saw a flash of blue eyes, or heard someone say 'thank you kindly', or saw a Mountie." She stopped unable to go on. Why was she so near to tears? She had stopped loving him years ago, hadn't she? Why then did she feel like this when she was in love with Martin?

As softly as she had spoken, the words carried to Ben. Each sentence felt like a nail being driven into his coffin. What could he say that would change her mind? What could he do to change what had happened? How could he ever hope to reach the woman he had once loved? Cat had once told him to be patient, take each day one at a time, and not mistake passion or obsession for love. She had also said that he could reach the 'real' Phil, the woman he'd loved--if he wanted to. Could he patiently wait for Phil to let down her guard? Could he let her walk out of his life if that's what she wanted? Why was he so concerned about losing a chance with her?

"What's going on down here?" Ray joined them. He, too, carried a coffee cup.

Both Phil and Ben turned to greet Ray. After a moment of shared glances, Phil answered for the both of them. "We were discussing the rapids we'll be facing today." Ben shot her a grateful look.

"Yeah, I hear they're pretty bad!" Ray strolled right down to the water's edge and stared downstream.

"Depends on how you look at it, Ray," Phil smiled mischievously welcoming the chance to change the subject.

Ray spun around and shaded his eyes with his hand. "I hate it when you do that, Phil."

"Do what?"

"Say something that makes me think things aren't as bad as they really are."

"Phil is quite good at doing exactly that, Ray." Ben pursed his lips and nodded.

"Just what do you mean by that, Benny?" Ray turned inquiring eyes to Ben.

"Yeah, just what do you mean?" Phil jauntily cocked her dark head to one side.

He shrugged matter-of-factly. "Oh, nothing. I must have spoken out of turn."

"Oh no you don't, Benny. You never speak out of turn. So whatever you said meant something. So spill it and spill it now!" Ray now stood nose to nose with the Mountie, his back to Phil.

Over Ray's shoulder, Ben turned beseeching eyes on Phil. She shook her head. "Don't look at me, Ben. I want to know just what you meant as much as Ray does. So spill it!"

Ben coughed and, taking a step backward, stared across the river. Moments passed before he spoke. "I remember a mountain slope covered with loose rocks and a cliff at the base. I remember my partner telling me that traversing the slope was as easy as skiing." Ben's eyes sought Phil's then locked with hers as shared memories of Thunder Basin passed between them. Phil smiled first, then Ben.

"Okay...so...what happened?" Ray saw the looks shared between Ben and Phil. He just wished he knew what was going on.

Still maintaining eye contact with Phil, Ben continued his story. "I slipped on some rubble and slid down the slope and over the cliff at the bottom."

"What?" Ray's mouth dropped open.

Ben's eyes left Phil's and sought Ray's. "It's the truth, Ray."

Ray sliced the air with his hand. "Not possible. If you went over a cliff, how come you're here now and not splattered all over the rocks at the bottom of that cliff?" Ray faced Ben disbelief plain in his stance.

"Oh, I went over the cliff, Ray. I just neglected to tell you that my partner caught me before I fell."

"Your partner caught you? Well, if it had been me, I would have let you drop!"

"Now, Ray, you know you don't mean that!"

"You're right, Benny. After I pulled you up I probably would've punched you out for scaring me half to death."

"That's exactly what my partner did, Ray--punched me out. Good." Ben's hand stroked his chin in remembered pain as he once more locked eyes with Phil. She grinned openly at him.

Ray noticed that Ben wasn't looking at him but was staring over his shoulder. The suppressed laugh from behind caused him to spin about. Phil held a hand to her mouth as she tried to hold the laughter in.

Ray glanced from Phil to Ben and back again to Phil. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You're the partner he's talking about." Phil nodded. Ray glanced at Ben. "Is this the instance where she broke her hand? Or did she hit you some other time as well?"

"Now Ray, I'm hurt. You make it sound like I go around looking for an opportunity to hit people," she said, surprised that he would know about that incident.

It was Ray's turn to laugh. After his laughter finally ground to a halt he jokingly asked of Phil, "So you hit him for falling off a cliff?" Ray watched Phil's eyes slide away from his to Ben's.

"No, Ray, I hit him because he kissed me." A faint light twinkled in the depths of her brown eyes.

Ray stared at her, complete surprise on his face. "What? You hit him..." he turned to Ben, "...she hit you because you kissed her?"

Ben slowly ran his tongue over his lips while nodding his head. "Essentially, that is correct, Ray."

"Shit, remind me not to kiss you, Phil." Realizing how late it was to think that, he corrected, "Next time."

Phil quirked an eyebrow. "I'll remind you, Ray...next time."

Ben took a sharp breath. He hoped there wouldn't be a next time.

"I've got some things I need to check on. So I'll leave you two to laugh at me!" She downed the last of her coffee then headed back toward camp.

"That's some woman, Benny!" Ray's voice shone with admiration.

"Yes, she is, Ray." The sour note in his voice brought Ray's attention back to his unofficial partner.

"What is it, Benny?" As if he didn't already know.

"There's nothing the matter, Ray." Ben sipped of his tea.

"You don't like my attraction to her, do you?" Ray smiled slightly; maybe a little jealousy would get Benny moving in the right direction.

"I have nothing against your liking or disliking of Phil. I just want..." His words faltered as he drew in a deep breath and exhaled noisily. What did he want? He had vowed to himself over a year ago not to divulge his love of Phil to Ray. Yet, here he was on the verge of doing exactly that. Did he still love Phil? "I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that...seeing her again after so many years...I want...I..."

Ray smiled again. The confusion on Ben's face was priceless. "Let me take a stab at it. Seeing her again has awakened memories of feelings you two once shared. You're both too afraid of hurting each other to try and rekindle the fire that existed between you. At the same time you're both still attracted to each other and don't know how to deal with those feelings. Am I right so far?"

Mouth agape, Ben stared at Ray wondering how his friend could be so perceptive. Was he that obvious around Phil? Did he want to rekindle that fire that had burned between them so many years ago? No, he didn't want to make that kind of mistake again. But this was Phil. She had never treated him the way Victoria had. What did he want? It was time to be honest with himself. He closed his eyes and bowed his head giving a short nod in the process.

"And you don't like me making time with your girl, right?" Another nod. "So what are you gonna do about it? Aside from punching my lights out, that is!"

Ben shot a startled glance at Ray. He didn't like the knowing smirk plastered across his face. "I would never do that, Ray."

Ray just grinned. "Yeah, sure. So...what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know, Ray, I honestly don't know. She...she's involved with someone else." It was difficult to hide the longing in his voice.

"Someone else? She never said nothing to me about someone else." Ray turned to watch Phil move about the camp talking to various members of their group.

"She told me that first day."

"Funny, she doesn't act like she's in love with someone else. Are you sure she didn't make it up? Maybe just to keep you at a distance?" Ray glanced at his friend once more.

"No, I'm quite sure she hasn't made up a story about a nonexistent lover."

"And just how do you know that?"

"Cat told me weeks ago." 'As did Lloyd,' he added to himself.

Ray thought back to that time several weeks ago when Ben had begun to unravel. Was the news that Phil was no longer available the straw that broke the camel's back? Was Phil that important to Ben? If she was then it was imperative that she and Ben resolve their problems. Right now, though, they had almost two weeks to work on Phil. Two weeks to make her forget this man she thought she loved. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Well, it looks like we got our work cut out for us."

"What do you mean, Ray?"

"We gotta make Phil forget this other guy, right? So, we got two weeks to work on her."

"But...but..."

"Don't worry, Benny, I'm right behind you all the way. I don't like the idea of some other shmuck walking off with a prize like that without a fight either."

"How?"

"You'll think of something, Benny." Ray gently squeezed his shoulder, "You'll think of something." They smiled at each other and joined the group as breakfast was finished.

Phil had joined the geologists and was deep in a discussion that had Ray gagging. He groaned as Ben settled beside Phil and listened intently to the discussion. Shaking his head he joined the group after one longing glance toward the group where Mara was holding court. 'The things I do for friendship,' he thought.

Shortly thereafter, Terry approached their group and spoke to Phil. "Are you planning on hiking Carbon?"

Phil answered, "I'll check in a little bit and see if there's any interest. But to be on the safe side, I'll plan on leading a small group up Carbon. Do you and Josie want to join us?"

Terry waved a hand in denial. "Been there, done that several times this year already. However, we will be climbing up to scope out Unkar. Care to join us?"

Phil tilted her head back and squinted up at the man standing over her. "Just try and stop me. I haven't made that climb since..."

"Since the last time you came along," Terry finished for her.

"Mind if I join you?" Ben asked.

"You up for it?" Terry glanced down at Ben then broke into a grin as Ben climbed to his feet.

Ben stretched carefully assessing how his back felt then raised an inquiring eyebrow at Ray.

"Well don't look at me! I have no intention of climbing any cliffs in the near future." Ray peered over the rim of his coffee cup. "If I know what's gonna happen I might just chicken out. I think I would rather be surprised by what the rapids throw at us rather than know beforehand!" Muffled laughter came from the other men seated with him.

"Agreed!"

"Smart thinking, Ray!" they chimed in.

Phil chuckled, too. "I'll remind you of that...later!"

* * *

Phil closed the small book and placed it atop her backpack. "Before we hit the rapids of this stretch of canyon we will be taking a little hike up Carbon Canyon about 3 miles downstream from here. The hike is fairly strenuous but it's worth the effort. We'll get a close-up look at the Great Unconformity and some striking stromatolites. As always, the hike is purely voluntary. Those that don't wish to climb the canyon walls can stay behind and meet us at Lava Canyon. I'll be leading this hike while Travis and the others take the dories on down to Chuar Creek."

As the small group entered the canyon a collared lizard flowed up a block of sandstone a few feet away from them like a steak of light. It halted atop the block and swiveled his ferocious head to nail the group with a suspicious gaze then, in a show of territoriality generally reserved for other lizards, did three jerky push-ups. His black and white collar above his tan back looked like war paint. Abruptly, the lizard disappeared from view, vanishing down the other side of the rock. He appeared on the other side racing across the graveled slope on his hind legs like a miniature dinosaur. He vanished as quickly as he'd appeared.

In single file, Phil led the small group of explorers into the labyrinth of Carbon Canyon. The walls climbed hundreds of feet above the floor where giant, angular boulders, some the size of houses, littered the narrow defile. The shade cast by some of these rocks provided patches of welcome coolness in the baking heat. Clambering up short cliffs, squeezing and oozing up chimneys between house-sized boulders, climbing dry waterfalls, Phil led the group deeper and deeper into a no-man's land.

Two-thirds of the way of Carbon, Phil called a halt. Ben, Kim Walker and Brad Jones, the park rangers, watched as the geologists seemed to have reached a state close to Nirvana as they clambered over the rocks at this inconspicuous site. Puzzled, Ben approached Phil and broached the subject. Kim followed close behind.

Chuckling, Phil answered Ben's query. "This is the Great Unconformity, Ben. It's one of the most important erosional gaps in the Earth's geologic record." Grasping his hand and motioning to Kim and Brad, she led him over to a spot separate from the other men. Dropping to her hands and knees, she brushed away the accumulation of dirt and debris that covered the rock face. Motioning for the three to join her, she continued to speak after they were seated beside her.

Patting the rock Ben sat upon, she said, "This is the Tapeats Sandstone, Ben. It's 570 million years old. This stuff here..." she patted the rock she sat on, "is the Dox Sandstone. It's more than a billion years old. Downstream from here the Tapeats sits on the Vishnu Schist. The Vishnu is nearly two billion years old. The Great Unconformity represents a gap in time of roughly 1.4 billion years--nearly one-third of the planet's history. During that time a mountain range the size of the Himalayas was eroded down to its bare nubbins and the seas washed in and deposited more sediments over them." Glancing sideways at Ben, her discourse died. Self-consciously, she chuckled. "It's hard to really describe what something like this means to a geologist, Ben. I'm sorry if I..uh..."

Ben returned her smile. "No need for apologies, Phil. Even I can understand the awe that this unconfomity produces." Ben was rewarded by one of Phil's lopsided smiles.

"Don't apologize, Phil. That's what we're here for, to learn about the Canyon." Kim smiled and Brad nodded as well.

Rising to her feet, Phil called to the others, "Are you ready to move on? There's more to see."

Phil led the group into a deeply carved and sinuous trench in the Tapeats Sandstone. Each one of the small group felt compelled to touch the canyon walls as they passed. Upper Carbon Canyon is such a narrow, shady, cool world in itself that more than one person glanced upward expected the canyon to narrow and vanish altogether near the top. Phil smiled as Ben and the others discussed the illusion of the walls. She continued to smile as she turned to watch the others stop and stare gape-mouthed ahead.

"What happened?" Ben asked.

"Is this the Butte Fault?" Blake Johnston asked.

Phil nodded her head and motioned toward the scene in front of them. The Tapeats made an abrupt ninety-degree turn upward from the horizontal as if the rock had suddenly turned to rubber. Truncated by the Butte Fault, the broken ends of the sandstone jutted into the sky like the fossilized ribs of some prehistoric animal. Beyond the break, the vista opened out into a wide and desiccated region. An hour from the river Phil and her group discovered the size of the Grand Canyon.

Phil glanced at the others. For a moment they simply stood in the last patch of shade to stare across the vastness of the inner Canyon. The gently rolling blue and purple hills of the Galeros Formation stretched a half dozen miles under a cobalt blue sky to end at the familiar red of the Paleozoic sequence--a 5,000 foot cliff whose base was the Tapeats and whose cap was the Kaibab Limestone. The expanse of almost normal landscape between the cliffs in the distance made this valley seem like a lost world.

"I suppose you're wondering why I brought you all the way up here today," Phil started.

The others grinned at Phil, rolling their eyes in amusement. "No, Phil, I guess we don't have any idea whatsoever," Blake added.

"Well, not too far from here are a bunch of coprolites."

Blake and the others groaned while Ben asked, "Coprolites?"

"Fossilized dino turds, Ben," Matt Hamm supplied.

"Dino turds?"

"Coprolites, Ben, named after a famous geologist by his arch rival," Phil added as she skirted some boulders and beckoned the others to follow.

"Phil!" Matt knelt and studied the rocks, "these are not coprolites."

"Okay, they're not dino turds. They'e stromatolites."

Thoroughly confused, Ben could only mutter, "Stromatolites?"

Taking pity on Ben, Matt explained, "Stromatolites are fossilized colonies of one-celled photosynthetic bacteria. These here are probably a billion years old?" He glanced at Phil. Phil grinned and nodded her head.

"But why call them coprolites when they aren't?" Ben persisted.

Lifting an eyebrow, Phil asked, "Which would you rather look at, dino doodoo or fossilized algal mats?"

"Well..."

"Don't answer that, Ben," she laughingly replied.

"A billion years old?"

"Close, but that's not particularly old for this fossil type. There are others that are a lot older than these."

Jim Trexler, the third geologist, joined Phil and motioned with a hand toward the landscape in front of them. "So this is the Chuar Group."

"Yeah, fantastic isn't it."

"What's so great about this rock, Phil?" Ben asked.

Removing her hat, Phil pushed her bangs up out of her face. "Let me see if I can explain it to you, Ben. The Butte Fault is a major ancient fault. This break here was caused by uplift along the western side of the fault. More was accomplished by erosion. What's so unique about this area is this rock right here in front of us--the billion year old Galeros Formation, four thousand feet thick. In fact, this, plus two thousand more feet of other formations in the Chuar Group, exist only here for a few miles along this west side of the fault and nowhere else in the Grand Canyon let alone the rest of the world."

Ben let out a low whistle.

"You'll see as we head down river that this six thousand foot thick series of rocks is missing from every place it should be beneath the Tapeats. It's gone--vanished. Erosion took it all away between six and eight hundred million years ago."

"So why is it still here?" Brad asked.

"Well, Brad, that answer has to do with tectonics, fault reversals, and other things that I don't think you really want to hear about. Besides, it's time for us to head back if we're to keep our date with the rapids." Phil took a long swig of water from her canteen and said to the others, "If you still have water, drink it now. There'll be water in Chuar Creek." Everyone drained his or her canteen. Phil replaced her hat and led the way out over the Galeros into Lava Canyon.

Single file they tramped parallel to the fault and up a low rise in the Galeros. They dropped down into the head of a wash and descended its dry bed. Phil spoke over her shoulder to the others following her lead.

"At noon on June 30, 1956, on a reasonably clear day, two airplanes flying east from LA collided above Chuar Butte. That's that butte back there." She pointed back along the path they had just traversed. "Anyway, pieces of the planes ricocheted off the cliffs and slopes and scattered down into tributary canyons and the river. All 128 people were killed. That was the worst peacetime aviation disaster to that time. Most of the wreckage has since been removed."

"I heard about that from one of the other rangers. So this is where it happen." Kim stopped and shading her eyes studied the terrain.

The route back was dissimilar to the route they had followed into the canyon. The flat-packed coarse sand in the dry wash reminded the hikers of a trail in a city park. Purple, blue, and orange member of the Galeros passed and the tiny group rubbernecked to gaze at the ramparts of black basaltic lava looming between them and the river--pillow basalts, formed from lava erupted into a shallow ocean long before the Galeros was deposited.

Halting on the brink of a 50-foot waterfall that ended the too-good-to-be-true trail, the group debated the best way to continue down. Opting not to take the suicide jump off the falls, the group detoured around it via a steep traverse. They soon reached Chuar Creek and followed its gurgling course to the river between wall of bright rust-colored Dox Sandstone.

The dories were not waiting for them when they reached the Colorado. "We must be a little bit early, although I expected them to beat us here so they could get in their baths before we got back." Phil stared upstream searching for the small craft.

"Bath?" Ben asked as he scratched an itch beneath the collar of his T-shirt. The others echoed the word.

"Yeah, this is your chance to get a warm bath instead of an arctic one from the river. Mind you, we'll need to wait for the boats to get here cause you don't bathe in the creek. You'll need to get one of the bailing buckets and take it well away from the water but I think you'll find the idea of a 90-degree bath much preferable to a 52-degree bath. In the meantime, I'm just going to soak a bit." She strode across the sand and slipped into the water.

The others joined her in the warm water of Chuar Creek, soaking the aches of the strenuous hike they'd just completed. Ten minutes later the dories arrived and the quiet companionship of the hike up Carbon Canyon disappeared. When the rest of the group were informed of the bathing arrangements, a cheer went up. They cheered as if a case of ice-cold beer had magically appeared to quench their thirsts. The waters of the Colorado are that cold.

"I could use some help," Mara crooned to Ben as she filled a bailing bucket.

Ben's eyebrows rose in question. "How might I be of assistance, Ms. Taylor?"

Mara's mouth drew into a soft O. "You could call me Mara, Ben," she pouted.

"Very well, Mara," Ben agreed then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Mara cried as she grasped his arm. "That's not what I meant."

Ben cocked his head and waited for the girl to continue.

Tossing her auburn locks, she batted her eyes and lifted the bucket for his inspection. "I could use some help with this."

"Let me be of assistance then." Ben relieved the girl of her bucket and motioned for her to precede him.

Mara smiled as she strolled away from the creek and the prying eyes there. Speaking over her shoulder, she said, "It's so nice of you to offer to help me, Ben. I can't seem to reach those spots on my back and..."

Ben stopped dead in his tracks. Reach those spots on her back? Just what kind of help did she need? "Ms. Taylor?"

"Mara," she simpered as she turned to face the Mountie.

"Ms. Taylor," Ben said firmly, "what do you need my help with?"

Mara batted her eyes once more. "To scrub my back, of course."

Ben's mouth dropped open. Recovering quickly, he set the small bailing bucket on the ground between them. "I'm sorry, Ms. Taylor, but that will not be possible."

Mara glared at his departing back wondering how he could refuse such an opportunity.

Not too many minutes later, the small group reformed near the dories, a little cleaner, and a whole lot happier (with one minor exception). The small crafts were quickly loaded and made the short journey to Unkar Rapids. Beached above the whitewater, a small group consisting of the Hunter brothers, their wives, Ron and Brian, and Ben and Phil followed the faint trace of other feet up the incline and soon stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the river below and to their right.

The boatmen studied the rapids, gestured wildly with their arms, and made their decisions. Ben and Phil stood to one side and shared the view. The canyon was fairly open here but would soon close in as the group of dories reached the Inner Gorge.

"This is beautiful, Phil." Awestruck, Ben stared in obvious pleasure at the scenery.

Phil lowered her camera and turned her face toward the man standing beside her. So far, except for that incident last night, she had handled Ben's presence fairly well. Maybe she could leave the past behind and get on with her life with Martin. Maybe she could finally put him out of her heart and let Martin fill that emptiness.

Conscious of Phil's considering gaze, Ben turned his head to meet her eyes. He nervously ran a thumb over his left eyebrow. "Do you remember the plans we made to make this trip together?"

A quick bob of her head was the only answer she gave. How could she forget? They had made so many plans together. The tiny ache passed quickly but not before Ben noticed the fleeting shadow in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Phil." Spoken so softly, Phil barely heard it, yet she read it in his eyes--glacier blue eyes that carried a message of sadness, pain, and regret.

"I'm sorry, too, Ben." Breaking eye contact, she lowered her head. She couldn't gaze into his eyes without feeling her own sadness, pain, and regret rising. She remembered what Cat had said about not being too hard on Ben because he had already been hard on himself. There really was no good reason to get emotional over something that had happened a long time ago. She turned away from him as Travis suggested they head back down.

"Let me get a group photo first," she said as she sat the camera on a rock. Motioning for each person to scrunch together, she set the timer then hurried over to join the group.

Ben caught her as she slid onto the ground in front of the small group. A startled look passed between the two as the camera shutter opened and took the picture. Ben helped Phil back to her feet and watched her collect her camera. That definitely wasn't hate or indifference he had seen in her eyes. 'Just take it slow,' he told himself.

* * *

Casting off from the shore, the tiny group of dories set out to run the distance from Unkar Rapids to Clear Creek. In that stretch were several rapids that did their best to justify any fears the small group of explorers had. Five of the rapids--Unkar, Seventy-five Mile, Hance, Sockdolager, and Grapevine--dropped for a total of 107 feet. Three of those rapids, depending on the level of the river were in the 'maximum recommended' category and Hance was generally acknowledged to be one of the toughest rapids in the Grand Canyon.

The first of that series of rapids was Unkar. It was dangerous due to the sheer wall on one side and the tendency for the current to slam everything into it. The group of dories quickly negotiated the 25-foot drop of Unkar Rapids, avoided smashing into the wall, and headed down the 2-mile stretch to Seventy-five Mile Rapids.

A general uneasiness developed among the voyagers and it was finally Ray who voiced that uneasiness. "Phil, tell me my eyes are playing tricks on me! Surely we can't be moving as fast as it looks and I know, or at least I think I know, that the river can't possibly be tilted that much, can it?"

Phil's grin reassured the people in her dory. "The answer to both your questions is no, Ray. The explanation involves the geology of these rocks." She pointed to the banks of the river where the layers of rocks were no longer laying parallel with the surface of the river. Phil waited while the rest of the flotilla closed in on her dory then went into a brief explanation of the optical illusion created by the rocks.

Using her hands to illustrate her point, she motioned toward the canyon walls. "This section of the river has a new layer of rock called the Shinumo Quartzite emerging from the river. The layers are tilted by an angle of about 15 degrees and when you look at the sloping lines in the walls of the gorge, the gradient of the river is exaggerated and it tends to give you the alarming impression that your boat is rushing downstream much faster than it really is. Hence the optical illusion that most of you have been experiencing." Sighs of relief were heard from the other dories as well.

The dories made their obligatory stop to scope out the rapids then settled themselves in a straight line and shot through Seventy-five Mile Rapids. No casualties this time. However, as the river pounded and tossed the dories, it became apparent that sooner or later their run of good luck would end. The dories might well be unsinkable but they were not unflippable. The Colorado River was just too wild and too unpredictable to permit all the dories to traverse it's length without mishap. Each occupant in each dory instinctively knew that. The river taunted them with that knowledge.

Ray clung to the sides of his dory as it circled the small eddy at the base of Seventy-five Mile. Even though it was one of the smaller rapids it packed a quite a wallop and he had thought for a moment he was a goner. Thankfully, he was sitting next to Ben, and as he felt himself lifted by the wave that crashed over the gunwales he also felt the strong grasp Ben maintained on his life jacket. So, he had bumped around a bit but had not gone over the side. He shivered; it had been a close call, though.

Already the roar of Hance Rapids reached them. The booming overwhelmed the roar of Seventy-five Mile receding behind them.

Travis adeptly wielded the oars as he spoke to Ben. "We're approaching Hance Rapids. It's one hell of a mess to try and negotiate."

Leaning forward from his seat in the stern, Ben questioned Travis. "But you've done it before--so there must be some trick to passing it." As with anything he attempted, he wanted to garner any information he could on handling the dories.

Travis glanced over his shoulder as he stroked once more with the oars. "Yeah, we've run Hance more times than I can remember. I can also remember a time when we were called in to rescue someone who rafted through the Land of Giants. It ended up being a body search." Travis shook his head then answered Ben's question. "The trick to running Hance is to stay way to the left to avoid the big stuff in the middle. We'll stop above the rapids for a short reconnoiter and I'll show you the route we usually follow."

"Thank you kindly."

"Yeah, thanks a million." Ray grumbled.

"Ray, aren't you enjoying yourself?" From the bow of the dory, Phil had listened to the conversation between the men behind her.

"I'd enjoy it more if I could sit by you," Ray pouted.

That brought a laugh from Steve Felderman, one of the graduate students. It was his turn to share Phil's dory and so far had spent most of the time pumping her for information about the Canyon.

The dories dutifully stopped and the boatmen studied the rapids intently. Hance, long and tricky, rated the ultimate 10 in high water. Today, in low water, it rated a respectable 8. The rapid was a fury of rock and blasting waves, whitewater wall-to-wall for hundreds of yards, dropping 30 feet. The boatmen scouted first one bank then the other.

"We've checked every channel we could find," Travis confided in Ben. "There's a rock at the bottom of every single one. We're fortunate, however, that they're letting enough water out of the dam to allow us to negotiate the rapids. I hate having to sit here hours on end waiting for enough water."

Terry joined Travis and Ben casting a worried glance at the river. "I don't like the looks of that hole in the middle. Do you think we can sneak past it on the far side?" The boatsmen plotted their path through the seething maelstrom. Finally they were satisfied with their planned route.

Ray joined Phil as Ben joined the boatmen as they scouted the rapids. "Any words of wisdom for someone who's scared shitless?"

Smiling sympathetically, Phil knew exactly what Ray was feeling. She'd felt that same way the first time she'd faced Hance. She turned to face Ray. "If you're thrown from the dory, the best way to swim a rapid is to relax. Just sit back and assume the 'Lazy-Boy' position. You know, like this." Phil demonstrated as best as she could on dry land.

"So, I just sit back on my butt and float through that mess?" Ray stared wide-eyed at the boiling mass of whitewater.

"Yeah, pretty much so." Phil nodded her head in short jerks.

"Somehow that don't make me feel any better."

"Don't worry, Ray. The dories are really quite safe. We made it through Unkar and Seventy-five Mile without any mishaps. We should make it through Hance as well. Just keep your fingers crossed."

Travis motioned with his hand and Phil recognized the signal. They would pick her up after everyone negotiated the rapids. It was too dangerous to try to retrieve her in the fury of whitewater.

Taking advantage of the relative calm, she quickly snapped a photo. 'Give everyone a unique perspective of Hance,' she thought.

Phil snapped a shot of the dories as they maneuvered on the Highway past Whale's Rock and steered left around the downstream rock fence, the Land of Giants, then take the big chute that had had everyone worried. The water was deep enough to cushion the boulder at the bottom and all the dories bounced safely out.

Phil stuffed the camera down inside her life jacket almost choking on the tightness of the cord around her neck. Letting the current take her, she rolled through the boulders and followed in their wake. This wasn't the first time nor likely to be the last that she had traversed a rapid without a boat. She choked as another wave buried her and pulled her further out into the current where she was tossed and spun around. Shooting to the surface, she gasped for air as she rode the wave past the rock fence and down the chute. The water grabbed her and flung her onto the rock at the bottom then spit her out on the downstream side. Phil swirled around in the slight eddy catching her breath and searched ahead for the dories. She grimaced as the cold water sent a stinging sensation along her nerve endings to her brain. 'I must have one hell of a scrape!' she thought and smiled as she saw the dories and rafts bunched not too far ahead of her.

"I'm fine! Really I am! This isn't my first time without a boat!"

"That's for sure!" Travis chuckled. "But you usually wait until Lava Falls to do it solo!"

"Maybe this time I'll make it through in a boat!" Phil had yet to run Lava Falls Rapids without being tossed from her dory. Maybe this year would be different.

Ben extended an arm down for her but Phil drew back. "Sorry, Ben, not just yet!"

Hurt by her withdrawal from him, that soon changed to puzzlement as Phil steadfastly refused to accept anyone's help back into the boat.

"Phil! Get your skinny butt back into the dory now. We've still got a ways to go today and several more rapids to run." Travis glared down at her.

"I will, Travis. I just need...uh..." Phil's face took on a rosy hue.

"What are these?" Jim Trexler snagged something from the river and held up what appeared to be a pair shorts. Several pairs of eyes turned to Phil.

"Yeah--and I lost my shoes, too!" She wished now that she'd packed some of her teddies. No way was she going to let the men know that she lost her panties as well. Next time, those teddies would be an integral part of her supply of clothes. If she had included them, she wouldn't have to worry about losing her undergarments to the river.

The shorts were passed from boat to boat and finally handed to Phil. She struggled briefly with them then reached an arm up to Ben. "I'll take that hand up now, Ben."

Aided by Ray, Ben pulled Phil back into the dory and settled her in the stern beside him. The dories continued on their way down the river toward their next challenge.

"What happened?" Ray was very curious to know how she had lost her clothes.

Phil's rosy hue deepened as Travis grinned at her. Glancing over his shoulder at Ray in the bow if the dory, he answered the question when it became apparent that Phil wouldn't. "In some of the rapids, Ray, the current is so savage that it can literally tear off a man's clothing, including belt, shorts, shoes." Phil studiously avoided Travis's eyes as they again focused on her.

"If anyone would know about that it would be Phil," Travis chuckled.

"And just what does that mean?" Ray was even more curious.

Travis continued to chuckle as he plied his oars. "Phil's first time through the canyon..."

"Travis! That's enough of that!" Phil lightly tanned face was beet-red with embarrassment.

"Ah come on now, Phil! What happened?" Ray turned to the boatman. "Travis, you can't leave us hanging like this! What happened?" Both Ben and Steve joined Ray's pleas.

"Ben! Not you, too?" Phil nudged Ben with her elbow.

Grinning wickedly at her, Ben replied, "Why not, Phil? I'd like to hear the story, too."

"Looks like your overruled, Phil," Travis' eyes crinkled and he proceeded to tell the story of Phil's first trip down the Colorado. Lava Falls Rapids had been her downfall. After being tossed from the dory and being whipped back and forth, around and around, Phil had emerged at the bottom of the rapids clad only in her life jacket and T-shirt. The rest of her clothing was never found.

"You were a sight!" Travis laughed again.

"Well, I don't appreciate you reminding me of it and telling everyone about it!" Phil crossed her arms and stared over the side of the dory, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Travis loved to tease Phil and he knew exactly which buttons to push. If she hadn't been such a good sport about things, he would never tease her in the manner that he did. But Phil could take as well as she could give and he knew that he would eventually pay for his indiscretion today. Trying to improve his standing in her sight, he said, "I didn't tell everyone, Phil. The people in the other boats don't know about it."

"Yeah, but how long do you think it will be before they do?" She glared at the faces turned towards her. Ray and Steve sat in the bow and grinned at her.

Ben sat next to her and watched her, a slight smile playing about his lips. He remembered well what she looked like sans clothing. He shuffled uncomfortably on the seat as he felt his body responding to his mental images.

"Spuds, we need to tend to those scrapes as soon as possible," Travis gently reminded her. The others had also seen the livid welt running up her leg and beneath the shorts she wore.

Phil glanced down at her injury, casually running a finger across the welt. It stung more than it hurt and she doubted that it would even bruise but it was always best to let Carol check over these small injuries. "I know, I know. Carol can tend them when we stop above Sockdolager."

Travis nodded his head in agreement and called to his wife, "Carol, first-aid stop!"

There was that name again. Ben's curiosity was piqued and he turned first to Phil to have it satisfied. The rosiness of her embarrassment still lingered on her cheeks and he doubted that she would reveal anything that personal to him. Travis, on the other hand, probably would. "Okay, I have to know. Why do you call Phil, 'Spuds'?" Ben inquired. Maybe he could get that question answered now.

"Don't you dare, Travis!" Phil's lazy sprawl in the stern disappeared as she straightened and glared at him. "If you value your hide, you'll keep you mouth shut!"

Travis threw his head back and roared with laughter. Some minutes later, he paused his rowing and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Sorry, Ben, but I've grown attached to my skin. Maybe some other time I can tell you story of 'Spuds McKenzie'!"

Ben turned his head and grinned at Phil. "I can hardly wait to hear it." Phil glared at him as well.

* * *

Half a mile past Hance the river entered the forbidding, narrow V-shaped corridor named Upper Granite Gorge. The voyagers found it's crags and buttresses and the grey to black colored rocks depressing. A heaviness seemed to press down on them as they stared upward at the tiny slice of sky permitted between the close-set walls.

Phil shivered with a chill born of the somber colors of the canyon walls. Every time she made this trip this was one of the things she looked forward to. A tiny smile played about her lips as her eyes roved over the rock walls that had been fluted by the erosive power of the river.

Ben, too, felt a chill as he watched the canyon walls creep closer and closer together. A casual glance at Phil beside him caught the expectant look on her face. He turned his attention to her and studied her reactions. When she closed her eyes and smiled slightly, he asked, "What is it, Phil?"

Phil's eyes flew open and moved from the rock walls to gaze into his face. She looked back at the rock wall and motioned with her hand. A note of awe crept into her voice as she answered him. "Remember what I said back in Carbon Canyon about the Great Unconformity? This is the Vishnu Schist--the oldest rock in the Canyon. It's over 2 billion years old, Ben. Every time I come face to face with it..." she caught her breath, "...it's strangely chilling. It's one thing to read about it in a geology text or stand on the rim trying to get a glimpse of it, but to actually see it--touch it." She turned helpless eyes to him. "I know I'm babbling, Ben, it's just so hard to explain to a layman just how awesome this formation is."

"Why don't you try?" There was tenderness in Ben's voice. "You did that once before, Phil. Remember?"

Phil studied the expectant look on Ben's face. Once, a long time ago, she had taken him on a field trip and showed him something of the wonder she found with her studies of the Earth. 'That was the day I realized I loved him,' she thought. She mentally shook herself, that was not something she wanted to remember. Instead, she smiled and softly asked, "Do you really want to hear about that?"

Ben took her hand in his. "Yes, Phil, I do."

She knew she should remove her hand from his, but it felt good--right, and what possible harm could come from it. She looked up into his eyes once more then stared across at the rock wall. "The Vishnu is one of the oldest know rocks in the world. No trace of life of any kind, not the smallest fossil fragment is preserved within its layers--nothing to suggest that living things had ever existed or might ever exist. For me--that fills me with a sense of unspeakable loneliness and sadness." Her voice trailed off.

"I know the feeling, Phil. I've experienced episodes of intense loneliness and sadness, too." He gave her hand a squeeze. Their eyes met and for a moment all time was suspended as they shared those memories of loneliness and sadness.

Phil was the first to break eye contact. What she had read in the depths of his eyes confused her. She closed her eyes and recalled the things Cat had told her about Ben.

Snapped out of her reverie, Phil turned to Ben to regard him in a different light. Did he still love her? Did she still love him? Did she want his love? Could she forgive him for the living hell he had put her through? She turned confused eyes away from him. What did she want?

Martin was so different. He was in his element in the city. He thrived on the fast pace of Chicago. Phil recalled his joking reference to his outdoor experiences-hiking (around a golf course), horseback riding (polo), and studying wildlife (Chicago's nightlife). How would he fit into her outdoor world? Strange that she hadn't considered that before. But Martin was considerate and so gentle and she loved him. Didn't she?

The roar of another rapid reached them and, soon, the dories beached and all members trooped out to reconnoiter Sockdolager Rapid. Carol and Phil stayed behind to tend Phil's scrapes.

Ben noticed Ray's interest was not on the rapids ahead but on the dories behind them. Following Ray's direction of sight, Ben saw what had Ray so captivated.

Carol knelt beside Phil her dark hair cascading around her shoulders. Phil had dropped her shorts and stood with her T-shirt hiked up as Carol ministered to the series of scrapes that ran from just below her knee to above her waist. Even turned sideways to them and partially blocked by Carol, the two men could tell that Phil wore no undergarments, most likely lost to Hance's savage blows.

"Is that a tattoo?" Ray asked as he squinted, trying to make out the tiny mark on Phil's hip.

"Hummingbird." Ben pictured the tiny tattoo in his mind. Walela, Lloyd had called her. Had they been lovers? Is that how Phil became Walela to Lloyd? A shaft of pure jealously shot through him.

"That's one mean looking scrape." Both men jerked around as Josie came up beside them.

Beet-red, Ben coughed, "Yes, it is." Ray simply grinned.

The group trooped back to the boats. Phil was restored to normal, but both Ray and Ben had trouble meeting her eye. Wondering what had happened to cause the blushes that started each time they looked at her, she soon forgot them as they found the tongue and shot through the rapids. Named by Powell, the word meant a knockout punch and that's exactly what Sockdolager gave them.

Grapevine Rapids were negotiated with little hassle then Eighty-nine Mile Rapids and as afternoon waned the group beached the dories below Clear Creek Rapids for their fourth night of their trip.

* * *

The camp below Clear Creek Rapids, on a boulder-strewn sandy beach, was fairly close to the rapids. More than one of the small group of people huddled in their bedrolls thought the sounds of the rapids would make sleep difficult.

Ray lay awake in his tent staring at the night sky through the flap and listening in awe to one of the most powerful and complex natural sounds on earth. It reminded him of the EL back in Chicago. No, it was more like a freight train rumbling down a track making a multitude of sounds all at once. The roar of the rapid was not steady and monotonous. It was alive--pulsating with unaccountable sounds. Ray swore that he could hear the iron groan of a train on a curve. He listened to the continual faint clicking of cobblestones ricocheting off boulders. 'Sounds just like train wheels on track joints,' he mused.

He wasn't the only one listening to the noises of the rapids. Ben sat near the dying embers of the fire and wrote in his journal, occasionally lifting his head to stare into the dark or over in the direction of the raft where Phil slept.

Phil lay on her back in Carol's raft, gently rocked by the waters of the river. She stared at the stars above her then rolled over and, easing herself up on one elbow, caught a glimpse of Ben sitting near the remnants of the fire. Even in the dark she could feel his eyes on her. She closed her eyes and relived those brief moments of understanding she had shared with Ben that day. What did he want from her? What did she want? They couldn't go back to what they had shared

so many years ago, but could they go forward? Did she want to go forward? What about Martin? She sighed and as sleep claimed her, her mind sought answers to questions she had thought would never arise again.

Ben finished his journal entry and spread his bedroll out. He lay down and, looking up at the night sky, listened to the symphony of the rapids. He listened to the clanks, the poundings, the hissing and seething of the water as it fought it's way over the boulders in the river.

Surprisingly, the noise of the rapids was also soothing, and when full darkness finally descended in the Canyon the whole camp had fallen asleep. All worries about what the Colorado River might do to them on the morrow were lulled by the sounds of the rapids.

* * *

To be continued (?)

***Excerpted from 'First Through the Grand Canyon' by Major

John Wesley Powell

Copyright June 1997 by Cassandra Hope

Second Chances (Book 3 of the Ben & Phil Saga)