Down the Valley of the Shadow    

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. 

  "Down the Valley of the Shadow" 

By Cassandra Hope 

(Copyright June 1997) Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of
the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied, -- "If you seek for
Eldorado! --Eldorado--Edgar Allen Poe 

As dawn drifted down into the camp on the Little Colorado awakening the
group camped there, a lone figure knelt in the soft sand by the river. His
hand gently traced the indentations of innumerable tracks left there by
the small nocturnal animals that made their home on or near the canyon
bottom. Benton Fraser rose to his feet and, wiping his hands on the seat
of his shorts, followed the tracks with his eyes. Spotted skunk, pocket
mouse, kangaroo rat, and the ring-tailed cacomistle, along with insects,
lizards, and scorpions--all were identified by the knowledgeable eyes of
the Mountie. During the heat of the day, these animals dozed in shaded
crevices, but at night, they came out to hunt and eat. 

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!" * * *  

August 13--We are now ready to start on our way down the Great Unknown. We
have but a month's rations remaining. The flour has been resifted through
the mosquito net sieve; the spoiled bacon has been dried, and the worst of
it boiled; the few pounds of dried apples have been spread in the sun, and
reshrunken to their normal bulk; the sugar has all melted, and gone on its
way down the river; but we have a large sack of coffee. 

We are three-quarters of a mile in the depths of the earth, and the great
river shrinks into insignificance. 

We have an unknown distance yet to run; an unknown river yet to explore.
What falls there are, we know not; what rocks beset the channel, we know
not; what walls rise over the river, we known not. 

With some eagerness, and some anxiety, and some misgiving, we enter the
canyon below, and are carried along by the swift water through walls which
rise from its very edge. 

August 14--The river enters the granite! 

We can see but a little way into the granite gorge, but it looks
threatening. 

About eleven o'clock we hear a great roar ahead, and approach it very
cautiously. 

...we must run the rapid, or abandon the river. 

The walls, now, are more than a mile in height-a vertical distance
difficult to appreciate. 

The gorge is black and narrow below...Down in these grand, gloomy depths
we glide, ever listening, for the mad waters keep up their roar; ever
watching, ever peering ahead, for the narrow canyon is winding, and the
river is closed in so that we can see but a few hundred yards, and what
there may be below we know not... 

August 15--And now we go on through this solemn, mysterious way. The river
is very deep, the canyon very narrow, and still obstructed, so that there
is no steady flow of the stream; but the waters wheel, and roll, and boil,
and we are scarcely able to determine where we can go...We can neither
land nor run as we please. The boats are entirely unmanageable... 

Early in the afternoon, we discover a stream, entering from the north, a
clear, beautiful creek, coming down through a gorgeous red canyon. We
land, and camp on a sand beach, above its mouth, under a great,
overspreading tree, with willow shaped leaves. ***  

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." 

In short order, the dories pulled ashore at Carbon Canyon. Only Ben, the 3
geologists, and the park rangers elected to accompany Phil on her trek.
Dave McMillian and his students remained behind using the time to examine
the riverbanks in more detail. Ray took one look at the nonexistent trail
and said, "No way, Benny." He stretched out in the stern of the Glen
Canyon and, pulling his cap down over his face, settled in for a nap. Ben
shrugged his shoulders and hurried to catch up with the small group led by
Phil. 

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." 

The rafts made the first run, bouncing from rock to rock as they plummeted
down the planned route. With Hance, speed counted, as did a precise point
of entrance. Running the dories through Hance with the boats moving in one
direction and the river moving in another was a lot like lobbing snowballs
so they would land on the hood of a moving car--difficult but not
impossible. The Flaming Gorge headed for the entrance angling around a
rock in the first chute. The Glen Canyon followed behind sliding over the
ledge and into a rush of sound as the bow dug down, snapped up, and waves
burst against Phil and the others in the boat. 

Greatly enjoying Ray's discomfiture, Phil forgot one of her own rules: pay
attention! A blue-green wave leaped over the stern of the Glen Canyon and
caught her unawares. Ray reached for her even as the water carried her
over the side of the dory. Bobbing to the surface, Phil struggled to keep
track of where she was in relation to the dories and the rocks in the
river. Hitting the Duck Pond, a relatively calm area, she waved to the
dories as they shot past her. 

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. 

She recovered her camera and took another shot letting the current carry
her down to the boats waiting for her. Soon she grasped one of the oars
held out to her from the Glen Canyon. Using it, she pulled herself to the
side of the boat where she clung and grinned at the men in the boat.
"Horrible!" she said as she shook water from her hair. 

The other boats clustered around the Glen Canyon and as people inquired
after her well being.  

"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!" 

Carol waved a hand as her raft drew near the Glen Canyon. "I'm not
surprised. We're almost to Sockdolager. I'll take care of Spuds there." 

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.  

My relationship with Ben goes beyond this life. It's an essential part of
both of us and it has no bearing, none whatsoever, on the love he feels
for you. And yes, I do mean feels for you--present tense. 

Ben loved you because of exactly who you are. Make no mistake, he knows he
blew it with you. I made sure to tell him, but he knew it himself anyway. 

Both of you have carried this around for so long now and knowing about
this may well help you come to terms with it, give you another
perspective. Phil, I'm concerned that if you don't resolve it now you'll
end up a bitter old woman, always alone. If you still have feelings for
Ben then own up to them, otherwise let it all go and move on with your
life.  

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. * * * 

Journal entry: 3 September 1997  

Powell's 'Great Unknown' was encountered today and overcome. So far we
have not had to portage any of the rapids, although that possibility
exists. Looking back perhaps we should have portaged around Hance. When
Phil went over the side of the dory, my heart stopped. I was filled with
such fear for her until I saw her bobbing in the current. She seemed to
take it in stride. I saw the camera in her hands and wondered how she
could even think of taking photos when she could have been smashed against
a boulder at any moment. How could she know the fear I had at possibly
losing her to the raging river? It took all my control not to sweep her
into my arms when she was finally, safely back in the dory. Even now I am
amazed at the strength of my fears. If it had been someone else, would I
have felt this way? What if it had been Ray? 

Who am I trying to fool? Myself, I think. Will I be satisfied with just
her friendship? Or do I want more? I only know that I was complete when
she was mine. Now I feel hollow--as if something is missing. Am I missing
her love? Why can't I get rid of these feelings? Why can't I fill this
hollowness inside? Why can't I move from the outskirts of life into the
main current? I want to be whole once more. Surely the presence or absence
of one person in my life cannot affect me as much as it appears to do. 

I see Phil and I want her. There is no polite way to put it. I want
her--physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I hunger for her. I long to
kiss her lips and breath in the scent of her skin and hair. I want to run
my hands over her body touching her breasts, her stomach, her woman's
flesh. I want to bury myself in her arms and soar once more to the heights
that I only found with her. I want to whisper in her ear and feel her soft
laughter against my chest. I want to fill my senses with her presence
until all the loneliness and heartbreak I've felt is smothered and I am
free to love her once more. I want her to love me in return but I am
afraid that that might no longer be possible. Cat said I could change her
mind about this man she says she loves. Could Cat be right? Can I make
Phil forget Martin? Do I want to interfere in Phil's life once more? Do I
have that right?  

She has changed--she's more confident of herself. I see little indications
of the shell she existed in before. She's more open with people and they
respond in kind. But, the Phil I loved, the Phil that I found behind that
wall of protection, does she still exist? And if she does, can I reach her
again? Will she let me reach her? Do I want to reach her? What do I want? 

I held her hand today and she did not pull it away. We shared a moment of
sadness and regret and she didn't pull away from me or distance herself by
throwing up those shutters in her eyes. I felt happy in that moment. 

It's ironic, I came on this trip to exorcise her ghost and I've found that
her presence has invigorated my perceptions of her. I look at her and I
remember things we did, things we planned, and I don't know why or how I
could have ever wanted someone else. 

   

To be continued (?) 

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

John Wesley Powell 

Copyright June 1997 by Cassandra Hope 

Comments are welcome at  baktrak@earthlink.net 

Visit my website at http://www.geocities.com/baktrak1 for Book 1 and Book
2 

Second Chances (Book 3 of the Ben & Phil Saga)	On a Collision
Course--Redux Second Chances A Cop, a Mountie, and a Dory Canyon Interlude
by Carol Trendall Rhyme of a Not-so-Ancient Mariner Down the Valley of the
Shadow