Taylor Neff, the Fisher Guy Chapter 2 – Rappelling

It was a hot, dry summer day and Taylor was sitting in his Adirondack chair in the shade of the east side of the store. It was his second break of the day, and his wife Nel was inside helping customers. In his hand he held a can of Cola, and another sat in a cooler by his feet. As usual at this time of day, he heard the crunching of feet on gravel walking his way. He lifted the bill on his Ranger cap and looked up the road.

“Hola, welcome to my casa,” he said.

“I can see those Spanish lessons are paying off,” came the reply.

Walking down the shoulder of the road, as he did every weekday on his break, was Taylor’s friend Greg, whom he had known since they were children.

“Have a seat and grab a Cola from the cooler,” Taylor said.

Greg pulled a drink from the cooler and sat down in Nel’s Adirondack.

“Man, it’s hot today,” Greg observed. “If I wasn’t afraid of the itch, I’d go down and jump in the lake.”

“In your clothes? You know we aren’t in middle school anymore. Skinny dipping is out. The last time I went swimming naked off the dock, the fish all went to the west end of the lake until winter. It’s bad business for a fishing resort.”

“Yeah, I wondered where all the ducks had gone too,” snarked Greg.

Taylor stared up at the face of Mt. Erie. On the south and south-west walls he could see rock climbers going up and down the faces. Some were recreational climbers and others were training with organizations like Search and Rescue or the military.

“You know,” Taylor said, “we always sit out here watching the climbers. We’ve done it for years. We’ve watched them climb up, and rappel down. Sometimes they practice pulling bodies up by hand in a stretcher. Sometimes they practice pulling bodies out with the Navy chopper, but they always tend to favor the south and southwest walls. Nobody ever climbs on the west side here.”

Greg thought about that statement for a moment and then replied. “There’s too much junk on this wall. Too many old dead snags, blackberries, and this time of year, ticks. Why climb the west wall when the south walls are so much better?”

“That is a fair observation,” noted Taylor. “I have been scanning this west side for years, looking for hawks and eagles. I want to show you something I’ve been looking at.”

He pointed.

“Up above the tree line, above that dead fir missing its bark. Go straight up the wall from it, about 70 feet down from the top. You see there is a little triangle of growth, some brush, and some rocks. Maybe I see it because I want to see it, but does that look like a cave to you?”

Greg squinted up at the west face. “You know, I think I see what you are seeing. It could be or it may just be shadows. Have you looked at it with binoculars?”

“Good idea. Hold on a second.”

He got up and entered the side door of the house, coming out a short time later with binoculars. Sitting back in his chair, he found the dead fir through the lenses and traveled up the west face.

“Hmm. I found it. There must be a ledge and soil because I can see grasses, some brush, the partial trunk of a dead tree, some rock that has sluffed off from someplace, and a dark area between two large slabs on the face. I don’t know how deep it is, but it could be a cave.”

Handing over the binoculars, Greg found the spot and confirmed everything that Taylor was seeing.

“For 50 years we have lived in this valley and to my knowledge, nobody has ever noticed a cave on the west side of the mountain. You would think that someone would have stumbled upon it in the last 200 years,” Taylor said. “Somehow, we have to find out what that is.”

“Isn’t Jason always flying that drone of his over the lake?” Greg asked. “Have him fly it up there to have a look.”

“Brilliant!” Taylor said excitedly. “Go in the store and get a package of powdered Hostess doughnuts for your reward. I’ll find Jason.”

15 minutes later, all three were together again and Jason had his drone.

“Do you see that dead fir which is missing its bark?” Taylor asked. “Straight above that, about 70 feet down from the top is what we’re looking at. We want you to fly the drone up there to see if that is a cave we are looking at.”

“Ok, I see it,” Jason said. “I’ll get as close as I can, but I’ve got to be careful with the breezes up there. I don’t want to crash the drone into the wall. Then you’ll owe me a new one besides replacing my tackle box which went to the bottom of the lake.”

“Yeah, I owe you. I nearly drowned,” Taylor growled.

Jason lifted the drone into the air and watching through a monitor, flew it up the west face until he found the spot. Because of the warm afternoon updraft, he fought to hold it in position.

“I see a couple of ledges going horizontally along the face from the spot which we can’t see from the ground. There is a landing with grass and brush growing. Some rotten chunks of wood and let me zoom in on your cave. It is a cave! There is a cave there! I can’t see how deep it goes.”

Jason brought the drone back to earth.

Taylor continued to stare up the mountain.

“I don’t know how, but somehow I need to see what’s inside that cave. I mean, we might be the first people to have found it.” Taylor said with excitement in his voice.

“Well,” Greg said, “we aren’t in high school anymore. That’s a long hike up from the store and then, if there is a ledge, I’m not sure I want to shimmy along it to get to the cave.”

“True,” Taylor replied. “What if we came down from above?”

“Rappelling?” Jason asked. “You’ve never rappelled before. You can’t do it dad. It will kill you. I do know a girl named Jen who teaches rappelling on the mountain. Maybe she could teach you.”

“Yeah, thanks Jason. It’s something to consider,” Greg said looking at Taylor who appeared not be convinced that he was incapable of being lowered down a rock face.

Jason took the drone back into the house.

“We can do this,” Taylor said, trying to convince Greg. “I’ve got a rope in the shed. We’ll toss it over the roof of the house. I’ll climb up on the roof while you tie the end on the ground around your waist and anchor it. Then, I’ll rappel over the west side of the house to the ground. I’ll show you how easy it is.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing to lose,” Greg said. “Plus, I can add anchor to my work resume.”

Taylor left and returned from the shed with 80 feet of 1″ diameter Manila rope. He then left to bring back an aluminum ladder which he stood up against the house roof. Handing Greg one loose end of the rope to tie around his waist, Taylor then climbed the ladder with the rope looped over his shoulder. Once on the peak, he wrapped the rope around his waist twice and threw the excess off the west side of the roof.

“Are you tied off good?” he shouted to Greg.

“All ready!” came the reply.

“Okay, I’m going to walk down the roof line and when I get to the gutter, I’m rappelling over the edge.”

He got a thumbs-up from Greg.

Taylor backed down the roof line letting the double wrapped rope slide around his waist. Reaching the gutter, he leaned backwards placing his full weight on the rope. Upon reaching a position 90 degrees from the outside wall, he lost his balance, flipped upside down and dropped over the edge. The sudden jerk on the rope caused Greg to lose his footing and he was pulled into the air only to get jammed under the gutter on the east side of the house. Taylor meanwhile did not go all the way to the ground but instead swung upside down outside of the kitchen windows.

Nel, standing at the kitchen sink looked up into the face of the inverted Taylor and screamed angrily, “Taylor Neff!”

“Um, hi dear . . . Could you ask Jason to bring the ladder?

Next Week – The Cave

Click here for Chapter 3.

Click here to return to Chapter 1.

** This is a work of fiction and all characters are fictional, unless of course, they are my cousins.

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