On the highest edge above the Root Cave stood one of the biggest of the giant Douglas firs. None of these trees had any branches on their arrow straight trunks until way above the ground, sometimes forty feet up or even higher.

From the first huge branch that jutted out, perpendicular from the trunk, hung a thick rope, tied there by the big boys years before. This rope was a wonderful thing to ride. You stood at the edge of the cliff, put your shoe into the loop tied at its end, clutching the rope in your hands.

Then you pushed off, swinging way out in a huge, wild arc over the deep, green precipice towards a precarious shelf next to the Root Cave.

After you’d landed, you would walk the rope back to the huge fir. Then it was the next kid’s turn.

Marty and Susan had been in second grade together. He lived in Diamond X Ranch, a nearby development of ranch-style homes that shared corrals and bridle trails. After he found out how close Susan’s house was, he began to visit often.

They’d all been swinging every possible minute for days. They let their heads fall back to view the world upside down, dizzyingly approaching the Root Cave, but after a while, even swinging off the edge of the world began to get old. Marty started mumbling about lunch.

“You could come over to the ranch, Susan. We just got another horse.”

“I’m s’posed to help my dad pack the van. We’re going campin’ tomorrow. What’s your new horse’s name?”

“Molly. She’s seventeen, which sounds young, but my dad says it’s old for a horse.”

“Well, I can’t meet her today, ’cause I have to help my dad.”

Susan completed one last, death defying arc through space. She landed gracefully, hopping on one foot while pulling the other from the noose before calling over her shoulder to her friend:

“Last one to the ranch is a rotten egg!”

“Wait for me, Susan, you cheater!”

She raced ahead, up winding, narrow deer trails through the lush woods. Even at top speed, she was mindful of the wonderland blooming around her, leaping nimbly over star flowers, careful of the tiny pink twinflowers creeping along the ground. Huge sword and bracken ferns brushed her sides as she galloped along, a pretend horse rushing to meet a real horse.

Suddenly, she felt a bump on her side. It was Marty, barging past, hooting with insane laughter. They raced across the bridge over Skookum Creek, through the woods, across the fields. They walked the rest of the way, ducking under white fencing enclosing muddy bridle trails leading to Marty’s long, low, ranch house.

They attacked the refrigerator, grabbing bologna, carrots, and apples, stuffing the bologna into their mouths. Marty led the way outside to a stable. He ran to greet his horse, who was gazing into the backyard, lost in horsey memories. White hairs clustered around her mouth. One eye was milky white, but she saw the apple Marty held out to her just fine.

“Gee, Marty, isn’t she a little old?”

“Yeah, well, I told ya she’s seventeen.”

“Is she blind?”

“Just in one eye. Want to ride her?”

“No. No thanks. You ride her.”

“But look, Susan. She’s so gentle. Come out, Molly.”

Marty fed the ancient mare a carrot, then opened the stable door.

“Come on, girl.”

Molly followed Marty, who led her over to a fence by the gate. He mounted her by standing on a rung of the fence, then swinging his leg up over her broad back. Molly loped around the corral a few times bearing Marty, while Susan watched, fascinated.

She’d never gotten to ride a horse bareback before. It looked easy enough.

A couple of neighbor kids appeared on the opposite side of the corral. A dark-haired, skinny boy leaned lazily against the fence at the opening to the bridle trails, watching Marty ride Molly back toward Susan.

“Here, Susan. Let me help you.”

Marty dismounted, steadying Molly near the fence so Susan could climb on.

“Just hold the reins. Molly will do the rest.”

Susan’s little legs were sticking out at an angle. She kicked her heels into Molly’s back as Marty gave his horse a slap on the rump.

Susan was riding bareback!

She went bouncing around the corral, pigtails flying. Then suddenly, she slipped sideways. She caught a fistful of Molly’s mane and hung on. The mare tossed her head and shied, heading straight across the corral toward the kids loitering there.

The skinny boy panicked. He ran across the entrance, right in front of Molly. Clinging desperately to Molly’s mane, Susan dangled precariously off on one side as the old mare dashed blindly up the fenced trail. Mud flew from beneath her hooves. Susan stared up into the milkiness of Molly’s blind eye.

“It’s okay, Molly. You can stop. It’s okay,” she cooed into the mare’s flattened ear. Susan kept speaking softly to the frightened animal, trying desperately to calm her, bouncing along on her side, clinging by one heel and a handful of mane.

At last, the animal began to slow. Marty caught up with them to help Susan dismount.

“Wow, Susan! Are you okay? That was great! How did you get her to stop?”

“I begged her to stop, Marty. I just kept talking to her.” Susan’s eyes were huge. “But what time is it? I’ve got to go! I’m supposed to be helping my dad pack the van. Do you want to go hiking with us tomorrow?”

“Thanks, but I have to visit grandma. Let me walk you home. You seem a bit shaky.”

* * *

Phineas Lulu loved the outdoors. He wanted Susan to learn to love it as much as he did, so he planned easy hikes during summer vacation. He bought equipment for her that was lightweight and comfortable. When he bought new hiking boots for himself, he got a pair for Susan too, and they planned to break them in together.

When Susan got home from Marty’s house, Phineas was busy getting everything ready for a trip. Provisions stood ready. Maps lay open on the table. Food stuffs littered the counters.

Susan ducked into the bathroom to splash some water on her face. She felt shaken by her experience on Molly, but she didn’t mention it to Phineas. Instead, she fetched her backpack, then arranged its contents on the kitchen table, checking to be sure everything was there.

“Hat, magnifying glass, silver flashlight, Swiss army knife, compass, camera, extra batteries, water, sunglasses . . . Hey, where’s Dolly?”

Phineas was preoccupied, stuffing peanut butter mixed with honey into a plastic camping tube. When he didn’t answer, Susan checked her bedroom, locating Dolly amid the tangled blankets of her bed. She thought about telling Phineas about her wild ride up the trail hanging by the horse’s mane and one heel, but decided against it.

It would just make him worry.

* * *

Susan slept poorly, reliving the mare’s desperate dash again and again in her dreams. It seemed like she’d slept only an hour when Phineas called her early the next morning. Their plan was for a day hike in the faraway Tatoosh Range, so Phineas was anxious to get underway.

“All buckled up, Susan?” he inquired.

“Rrrroger!” Susan saluted smartly. “Can I go to sleep in the back?”

“Maybe later, but right now, we’re on our way,” crowed Phineas, as he bumped the van down their long driveway onto the highway. He explained that although the hike itself was not difficult, they would be hiking at quite an altitude.

First they would drive south toward Mount Rainier. From there they would hike to a jewel-like lake encircled by mountains.

“We’ll be surrounded by Pinnacle Peak, Plummer Peak, and the Castle. Pinnacle Peak is above sixty five hundred feet,” he told his disinterested child.

By now, sleepy Susan was daydreaming. She could see herself, standing before the entrance to a large and mysterious cave. Inside glinted the promise of riches: the mine of the Seven Dwarves.

“What about caves, daddy? Do you think we’ll find one?” Susan asked, rousing herself.

“Oh, yes! We’ll probably see lots of caves, but forget about going into them. I don’t want to have to rescue you again, Susan.”

Phineas could tell he was losing his audience. Susan had that dreamy look on her face again.

“Susan? Are you listening? Say yes if you are.”

She nodded her head all the way to the front so her chin was on her chest, then all the way to the back to bang against the van’s headrest: down, up, down, up.

“Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh,” she answered as she stared with glazed eyes. Phineas scrutinized his daughter from the corner of his eye.

She was dreaming about the diamond mine she would find inside the first cave she came to. Susan could feel her dad’s gaze. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t listening again.

“Why are caves dangerous, daddy?” she asked, as she rummaged in her backpack for Dolly.

“Oh, the hazards are endless!” Phineas’s voice broke with passion. “Pitch dark, no guarantee of air quality, unknown terrain. Then there’s getting lost! Just being in the mountains, we can have a lot of trouble with echoes.

“Sometimes you can hear a person perfectly plainly, but you can’t tell which direction their voice is coming from, because the sound keeps bouncing off the face of the rock.

“But we have the Buddy System, so no one will be going off exploring on her own. Never go anywhere without your buddy, which is me. But if we ever get separated, just stay where you are, and wait for me to find you.

“Don’t be wandering around looking for me. We all have a tendency to walk in circles. I have some emergency supplies, but I’m not planning to camp overnight, so we want to get back to the van before dark. Right, Susan?”

“Right, Dad.”

Susan tuned out again. While Phineas chatted on, she imagined huge rock faces smiling down on her as she climbed past clouds to the top of a magnificent peak, planting the Lulu family flag at the summit.

Two hours later, the Lulus arrived at the parking lot by the Reflection Lakes. Susan’s new hiking boots pinched, so her dad applied moleskin to prevent blisters. They checked their equipment, then hoisted their packs onto their shoulders. Susan slipped her flashlight into her vest pocket. Dolly stayed in the van.

They set off. In no time they gained the trail and began following it as it wound steeply between majestic Doug firs and Sitka spruce. The rocky path led them over fallen logs. Giant boulders lay haphazardly along the path. A waterfall sparkled in the sun as Susan and her dad stopped to admire it from a log bridge.

“Oh, look, Daddy! What’s that little animal over there?”

Susan pointed at a hamster-like fellow sitting motionless on a nearby rock.

“That’s a pika: a sort of short eared, high altitude rabbit,” Phineas whispered.

They watched the pudgy animal nose around while they rested and looked out at the mountain vista, which seemed astonishingly close. They were in a valley, staring up at three jagged peaks.

Moraines of gravel filled the crevices between two granite spires, flanked by a high ridge running along one side. In the center of this alpine amphitheater was a sapphire lake. Phineas spoke quietly as he began to point out some of the peaks above them.

“See, Susan, those peaks up there are Pinnacle Peak, the Castle, and Plummer’s Peak. When you’re bigger we’ll walk right up the ridge to the summit of Plummer’s Peak.”

Susan looked up at the three vast mountains looming above them. It didn’t seem possible that she would ever climb that high. Her dad helped her as they negotiated the trail past some steep rocks that formed the base of the Castle. They walked up a chiseled path, round a switchback into a land of broken granite chimneys that reached up into the mountain’s craggy heart.

By now, they were hungry. They dropped their packs and began to rummage for lunch. While they ate, Phineas leaned back against the granite wall to let the sun warm his face. He closed his eyes.

Susan watched him closely as she bit off a hunk of sandwich. Chewing, she kept one eye on her dad while she leaned back to peer up the trail. Phineas was falling asleep. Susan watched him for a while, then gazed at the huge granite boulders crowded around her.

‘I wonder how much higher it is to the top?’

Susan craned her neck, trying to see up the trail into the mountains.

‘Wouldn’t Daddy be proud if I was the first to the top of the mountain?’ she thought, convincing herself she would be careful.

What harm could a little exploring do?

She patted her vest pocket to be sure she had her flashlight and, watching Phineas closely, tiptoed backward up the trail. Around the first bend in the path was an inviting set of irregular stone stairs, scattered as if dropped by a friendly giant.

Pretending to be Jack and the Beanstalk, Susan climbed up the steps, and then, grasping an outcropping, she peered between the boulders. Below her she could see Phineas’s legs, crossed contentedly. He was asleep in the sun.

Straight ahead was a stunning view of the valley below, the lake like a gem against the soft colors of the alpine meadow. She gazed around at the mighty peaks surrounding her, at the puffy white clouds scattered across the blue sky.

Susan turned to see between huge geometric granite towers that formed the mountain. A giant broken chimney stood stark against the sky. She looked up the trail. Maybe the summit was just around the next corner.

Right before her was an opening in the rocks. Could this be a real cave? It wasn’t like any cave she’d ever imagined, just a wide crack between boulders. Susan remembered her dream discovery of the Seven Dwarves Mine.

‘I’ll just check to see if there are jewels or gold. I won’t go in far,” she promised herself.

Susan moved quickly to the entrance and stuck her head in, then pulled herself gingerly through the opening into a cool, dark room with a low ceiling. She pulled out her flashlight to shine ahead. The cave seemed to go back into the heart of the mountain. Its floor was fairly smooth. It looked solid, but she wasn’t really looking at the floor of the cave.

She was searching the walls and ceiling for shining treasure. She pulled herself on her hands and knees further into the cave. The rocks were slimy and cold. Suddenly, the floor slanted sharply downward and Susan went tumbling downward, scraping herself against the rough granite. Her flashlight hit a boulder and went out.

“Daddy!” she screamed.

Daddy daddy daddy daddy, the mountain mimicked.

Then Susan remembered what her dad had been warning her about on the ride up:

Echoes!

‘Oh, no,’ she thought. ‘He won’t be able to tell where I am.’

Out on the trail, Phineas was startled awake by her scream, but he couldn’t tell where her voice was coming from. It sounded like she was inside the mountain.

“Susan!” he yelled.

“Daddy!”

She began to cry. Phineas went up the path in the direction of the sound, but he couldn’t see Susan. He turned around, calling his daughter, listening carefully for her answer. When he rounded the corner, he saw a suspicious crevice.

“Susan,” he screamed. “Are you in there?”

“Yes,” he heard his daughter echo.

“Are you hurt?”

“Not too bad, daddy, but I’m scared and I skinned my knees.”

“Grrrrrrrrrr!”

An animal growl came out of Phineas Lulu’s throat. He tried to be reassuring between clenched teeth.

“Well, you must have totally forgotten the Buddy System. You’ll have to wait while I get a rope.”

He ran down the trail, leaving Susan crying and squirming against rough, cold boulders. She felt around for her flashlight, found it, and turned it on, but she couldn’t see any diamonds or gold, just moss and lichen.

When Phineas opened his pack, he realized he’d left the rope in their van. He returned up the trail to his child. It wasn’t long before she saw the beam of his flashlight.

“I don’t have a rope, Susan. You’re going to have to climb back up to me. I’ll reach in as far as I can, but I can’t even fit my shoulders in there.”

Susan saw her dad’s hand illuminated in the flashlight beam. Her hands and knees got scraped, and Susan was crying when she finally reached her father’s outstretched arms to be pulled into the sunshine.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I won’t ever forget the Buddy System again. I was soooo scared.”

“Never do that again,” Phineas snapped as he hugged his wayward daughter to his chest.

* * *

“So.

“Susan.

“We still have to hike all the way back to the van.”

Susan was sitting on a boulder shaped like a bench. Phineas had applied some stingy stuff to her scrapes, then bandaged her knees. They were repacked and ready to go, but it was quite a bit later than planned. Susan knew she would have to hurry to keep up with Phineas as he led the way out in the dwindling light.

“Night comes early in the mountains,” he remarked.

They tramped back down the rocky path, across the moraine that lay above the turquoise lake. It was still pleasantly warm. The sky was a rosy; the shadows were long. Phineas pointed out several climbers up on the rocks high above them: experienced men and women equipped with ropes, moving expertly across the steep face of the mountain.

Susan began to dawdle, turning back to watch the climbers high above, like ants hanging on spider webs.

That’s when she heard a cry.

“Ayudame!”

She looked up. There on a rocky ledge above her crouched a young man, waving, then cupping his mouth with his hands, desperate to be heard.

“Dad, what does ayudame mean?” Susan called out. Phineas was hurrying towards the edge of the forest, but he turned back to listen.

“!Ayudame! Por favor. !Ayudame!“

Phineas dredged up his high school Spanish:

Help me, please. Someone please help me!

“That man up there needs help, Susan. He’s calling out for help in Spanish!”

“Oh my gosh!”

Phineas turned to scan the mountain face above him. He shouted to some climbers well above the stranded man, hailing them. Phineas and Susan pointed out the man, kneeling on a narrow ledge.

The climbers responded. They spotted the stranded hiker. Immediately, they began to angle down the cliff towards his precarious perch. The darkhaired young man smiled and waved. In no time, the climbers had secured a rope to pull him up and were aiding him along the trail.

“Susan, we cannot stay. We won’t be able to see well on the way back. We must go now and we have to hurry.”

Indeed, it was twilight. Several times Susan stumbled, hurting her already damaged knees. She was a lot clumsier than normal because she was so tired.

She’d never been so glad to see a vehicle in her life when they rounded the last bend and spotted their faithful van. They flung in their packs and clambered aboard. As Phineas backed into the parking lot, he slowed as he gazed fondly at his daughter.

“Susan, I’m real proud of you. I never would have heard that guy. You got my attention. You saved him!”

“But you understood Spanish. I thought he was just saying hi!”

They laughed. Susan climbed into the back seat. Using her backpack as a pillow, she hugged Dolly and went to sleep while Phineas drove them home.