An extremely talented writer from the USA, Kalli Deschamps wrote this as a starter for a serial. Yet another example of a writer waiting to be discovered. I sometimes wonder what we can do to motivate agents away from pop star biographies and political "I was there" non fiction. Is it any wonder more and more good authors are turning to self publishing - and becoming successful too. Kalli writes with a pen that crafts beautiful words and gives our minds eye pictures of the scenes her characters perform in. This in my opinion is a really well crafted piece worthy of any agents attention. Well done Kalli.
The Anaconda-Pintlar Wilderness, located in
Western Montana is one of the loveliest, most dangerous and smallest wilderness
areas in the United States. It has been likened to a miniature Glacier Park
with its tall snow-covered peaks and deep bog infested draws.
In August, fourteen strangers signed up for
a five-day adventure through this beautiful, treacherous piece of real-estate.
Each would ride his own horse.
Their leader, who knew the area well told
them that Cut-Away Pass would be free of snow for the week they were making the
trip, so they could use that passage through the mountains. The knife-edge
trail was the most beautiful, most dangerous trail anywhere in the west. This
was the very top of the Continental Divide, the survey line that divides the
eastern United States from the western United States.
The morning arrived. August 10, when they
were to challenge the mountain. Tiny wildflowers peeked from lichen-covered
rocks at the edge of the narrow trail. The climb was steady; the trail free
from snow, at least at this level. The
clouds grew heavy. They had travelled about three miles of the ten-mile day
that would take them over the top to the next and last camp. A clap of thunder,
a streak of lightning and the rain began to fall. They hastily pulled yellow slickers or
army-surplus ponchos from behind saddles and over dampened bodies. No one
stopped. As they continued to climb, the wind blew and the rain cut their
faces. They finally reached the end of the harrowing climb only to face the top
of the mountain. The blowing rain changed to blowing snow.
Fourteen scared riders grabbed for their
hats, jammed them tightly onto their heads and clutched tightly to the reins of
their restless horses. Slowly they made their cautious way cross the open, treeless
ridge of the Continental Divide. The hoped for “once in a lifetime” view was
swallowed in the biting, horizontal snow.
Three-quarters of the way across the
hazardous space the exhausted line of riders drew to a halt. Their leader knew
of the narrow crevasse cutting across the center of the trail, but he hadn’t
thought it much of a problem, so had not mentioned it. But they had to cross
it, so with varying degrees of trepidation, one by one they urged their nervous
horses across the two foot break in the trail. The line halted as the last
rider was having a problem with his horse. The frightened animal refused to
move. The rest of the group was
helpless. There was no way to coax the reluctant horse. And this was probably
the calmest horse in the bunch.
The snow continued to fall; the wind to
blow. One could almost see the wheels turn as the skittish animal decided he
was alone. As he made the decision to
jump to join his buddies his rider was thrown high, only to plummet to the
rock-strewn surface a thousand feet below.
Copyright 2014 - Kalli Deschamps (USA)
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