hundred feet of the trail was a steady decline, but then the path hit a switchback and we cut across the other way. From that point on the trail consisted of stepped landings. Walk four feet, drop down a step. Walk another four feet, drop down another step. I turned my headlamp to the left to examine the canyon wall. The layers of limestone and sandstone were easy to pick out in vertical strata, like someone had come along and cut slices into the rock every few feet.
My foot slipped and I stumbled. Logan grabbed me from behind and kept me from falling.
“Eyes on the trail,” he warned.
From that moment on I kept my headlamp aimed at the ground in front of me.
Down and down we went, switchbacking across the rim. The edge of each step platform was hard stone or wood, but the ground on each platform was sandy. So much so that my boots sank an inch with every step. In front of me, Riley’s boots kicked up dust into the air. Soon my cone of vision was full of swirling dust.
“Coconino sandstone particles,” Harper explained from the back. “Eroded into fine grains by millions of years of wind.”
“It’ll get better the deeper we go in the canyon,” Logan said. “Wear your buff over your mouth.”
I kept my eyes on Riley’s long pants in front of me as we descended into the canyon. It wasn’t too strenuous, especially after all the practice I had gotten. After a few minutes I got into a nice groove. My body warmed up and I started to feel comfortable in all my layers. Whenever Riley took a drink from his water bottle I did the same. The water was cool and washed away the dusty grime in my throat.
Before I knew it, we rounded a corner and a shack appeared in front of it.
“The one-point-five mile resthouse,” Riley announced. “Good place to take a short break. There’s a bathroom if anyone needs it.”
I sipped my water and gazed around. The canyon rim was a few hundred feet above us, a black line against a slightly-less-black sky.
“We’ve descended pretty far,” I said, surprised.
Harper sat on a rock and nodded. “The top is the steepest part. That’s what makes it so tough for tourists. Easy going down… but much more difficult going back up.”
I looked out at the canyon. It was still pitch black, completely featureless. But I could feel the immense open space before me. A tremendous chasm that felt like it was pulling me into it.
I looked back down at my water bottle before a wave of vertigo overcame me.
After a few minutes we continued on our way. Back and forth the trail moved, switchbacking again and again. I stayed as close to the canyon wall as possible, but there were a few switchbacks where I had to get close to the edge of the path. If I slipped and fell, how long would I fall before I hit the ground?
I tried not to think about that.
“How’s the view?” Riley asked.
“What view? All I see is black.”
“I meant this view.” Riley gave his butt a little wiggle. “Nice, right?”
I laughed. “The view is great.”
“It’ll be better when I take over,” Logan said in a deep voice behind me.
“You don’t have a nicer ass than I do,” Riley argued.
“Do too.”
“Logan’s ass is more muscular,” Harper mused. “But that makes it bigger, too.”
“What’s the verdict?” Logan asked.
I realized he was talking to me. “This kind of feels like being asked which finger is your favorite. I like all of them.”
“Thumb,” Logan said. “The thumb is the most important. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to grab stuff.”
“You’re definitely the personification of a thumb,” Riley said.
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s an insult,” Logan replied.
Riley’s headlamp swung around as he glanced over his shoulder. “He’s definitely the thumb, right Christie?”
I giggled. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“I rest my case,” Riley said emphatically.
“You haven’t made a case to begin with,” Logan replied.
“My case is that Christie likes my ass the most.”
“Fine,” Logan said. “Christie, who’s the best in bed?”
A chorus of laughs echoed on either side of me. But there was a nervous note to them. Like the jokes were on the edge of serious. I had never heard the guys act jealous before, but this was close.
“Definitely Harper,” I replied.
I heard a boot scrape as Harper slipped on the next step. “Uh, really?”
“Harper is tied with Riley.”
“Hah!” Riley said.
“And Logan,” I