XII: Daylight
Copyright (c) 1997 by Ronald Bourret
![](drawings/sky.png)
I wanted to stop after every few steps, but Ben's energy shamed me forward. The canyon, a magic hallway on our trip in, was now just another obstacle to getting out. I was also worried about the Bitch Pitch -- all that water on the last climb had to come from somewhere -- but Paul was right: the rope hung well away from the water and, except for being ten more feet to climb, the pitch presented no real problems.
![](drawings/sunning.png)
We turned up the final passage and Ben waited patiently as I struggled up a short climb. From its top, a short section of streamway led to the exit tunnel. I turned and trudged up the breakdown, only half-comprehending that we were out. Ahead, framed by the exit of the cave, was a dead-blue sky. I emerged, blinking, into the bright sunshine and looked at Bill and Paul, already sunning themselves on the rocks.
"I think I'll take up knitting," I said.