Page 80 of In a Word, Yes

“Slack!” she shouts now and then. Meaning, apparently, the rope is too tight and she needs more of it.

After forty minutes or so, they’ve done it! Our two climbing partners rest on the high ledge, feet dangling over the side. Meanwhile I’ve occupied my time typing notes into my phone—the off-the-cuff wisdom of Steph Stoneback.

Cool wind tousles my hair. It whistles down the canyon, carrying the faint shouts of distant climbers and feathering the teal river as it snakes through the gorge.

Shouts overhead alert me—action! I jump behind the camera.

Steph now faces away from me. Standing upright, she scooches her rear end off the ledge like she’s about to rappel. With Meg as lead climber, I’m confident Steph is tied in safely. Still, that has got to be intense.

Meg speaks firmly, but I can only make out syllables. Sounds like “trust the rope.”

Minutes pass. More mumbled words. No change in Steph’s position.

Something isn’t going to plan.

Time ticks by. Still no movement from Steph. Is the wind picking up? My neck aches from staring up. Watching. Waiting.

Praying.

What’s the holdup? Why isn’t Steph rappelling?

On the trail below me, a pair of wiry men in climbing gear watch, hands on hips. Do they detect a problem?

The men hike up to me.

“It’s her first outdoor climb,” I tell them.

“Rappelling can be terrifying,” the bearded one says. “Even seasoned climbers can freeze up. You look down, and it’s like,Oh man, I literally have to walk off this edge.”

A scratching sound nearby. Radio static. Then Meg’s voice. The walkie-talkie!

I dig out the device from a pocket of the first aid bag. More static, then Meg again. “How we looking down there? Over.”

“All good here,” I say. “Over.”

“We’re working through a little situation. Got any words for Steph?”

I turn to the two climbers. The bearded one shrugs.

“Tell her...” Oh gosh. Tell her what? “Tell her, ‘The Sparrow and the Hawk.’”

“What?”

“Just ... try it. Over.”

A minute ticks by. Still Steph stands perched at the ledge, the rope in her death grip.

Meg’s voice again. “Got anything else? Over.”

I press the Talk button. “Tell her, ‘The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.’ Over.”

Muffled voices high overhead. And then ... is that movement?

Steph’s right leg descends just over the ledge. She plants it against the rock. Then her left. She leans into it. Another right step. Another left.

The two guys grin and applaud.

“Woo-hoo!” I shout. “You got this, Steph!”