I felt an sudden flash of pain streak through my skull. I sat upright, almost colliding with the back of my seat, and realized that I had cracked my head on the table when the plane landed, jolting my head forward off of its precarious perch on my hand. I stumbled down the stairs, rubbing my forehead indignantly.

       I looked up and cringed slightly. Straight ahead were a barricade of quite formidable-looking mountains. As if in hopes that what I was seeing was only an illusion, I slung my bookbag off of my shoulder, rummaged inside it desperately...

And what I found were a chord, hook, spike, and harness.

       I sighed, reached my mental hand into the deepest recesses of my soul, found half an ounce of courage, and trudged onward.

       The detailes of my slow climb upward I will omit, mostly because I'd rather not relive the experience of seeing only cold, mist-dampened rock for hours on end. Anyway, I finally reached the ledge and cave I was told to look for.

       I was glad for the cool, gray clouds forming above, taming the sun, lest my internal temperature be on the brink of smolders from agitation and physical activity. What I wasn't glad for was the gargantuan cave looming eerily in front of me.