Untersberg

The fog hung dauntingly below me.

I swallowed and my stomach tensed, released, and tensed again. I felt like I was about to throw up.

I tried not to look down but I did.

The rock cliff, white and torn, plummeted into the fog and down a thousand feet to the ground.

My trembling left hand squeezed the cold cable even harder.

Frances whimpered behind me.

My mom’s shaky voice started to sing, “Just put one foot in front of the other.”

My dad walked slowly, leading us past the shrines carved into the rock protecting the quivering candles and the memories of all the people who have fallen to their deaths.

The path on which we walked was narrow and slippery. It led us up, up, up the Untersberg. 

Halfway up I crouched in a small cave and asked myself why I decided to do this.  We could have retraced our steps down ladders, over creeks, and through patches of forest. Back down to the city of Salzburg. But my dad had said that would be even more dangerous.

I stood up and decided there was no going back now.

But time was like a mourner, passing slowly by the shrines and by us.  

Each step lasted forever.

Then, at last, my eyes saw flat. Then, a few scattered trees. Then grass! Then I stepped onto real, solid, flat ground!!!  

My mom sighed and giggled with relief. Frances sat down on the grass. My dad was just so happy that no one fell. I was so glad to see that everybody else was so happy but no matter what, I could not stop shaking.

The four of us walked over to a little hut and I ordered the second latte I have ever had--and it was fully caffeinated.

Eleanore