The Rock Jockeys Read online

  MOUNTAINTOP TERROR

  Rick took a deep breath. “Climber ready.”

  He braced his back and started edging his way up. It was a tight fit. Rick’s knees were almost in his mouth as he struggled through the chimney. Finally he topped out. “I’m up. There’s a ledge here. I’ll anchor and wait.”

  One at a time the other two boys emerged from the long crevice. There was barely enough room for all three to stand on the ledge. Above them was a granite overhang that jutted out almost six feet. Rick had already inserted one piton and was trying to find a toehold.

  The overhang presented a dangerous problem. Rick, as the leader, had to find a way to go out and over the top. It would mean working upside down and trusting all his weight to the pitons he was able to hammer in along the way.

  Spud and J.D. wrapped the rope around themselves and stood ready. Like an oversized spider, Rick climbed along the underside of the rock. He unclipped another piton from his belt and reached for his hammer.

  Suddenly the carabiner, the aluminum oval snaplink attached to the piton, bent and Rick’s body jerked and fell a few inches. Then with a sickening sound the carabiner popped open and the rope came completely loose.

  Rick fell backward into space.

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  THE DISAPPEARING BIKE SHOP, Elvira Woodruff

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  AWFULLY SHORT FOR THE FOURTH GRADE, Elvira Woodruff

  THE SUMMER I SHRANK MY GRANDMOTHER, Elvira Woodruff

  HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell

  HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell

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  BEETLES, LIGHTLY TOASTED, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

  YEARLING BOOKS/YOUNG YEARLINGS/YEARLING CLASSICS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.

  For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,

  write to

  Dell Readers Service,

  P.O. Box 1045,

  South Holland, IL 60473.

  Published by

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers

  a division of

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  1540 Broadway

  New York, New York 10036

  Copyright © 1995 by Gary Paulsen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

  The trademarks Yearling® and Dell® are registered in the

  U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-80396-2

  Series design: Barbara Berger

  Interior illustration by Michael David Biegel

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Gary Paulsen Adventure Guide: Mountaineering

  Dear Readers:

  Real adventure is many things—it’s danger and daring and sometimes even a struggle for life or death. From competing in the Iditarod dogsled race across Alaska to sailing the Pacific Ocean, I’ve experienced some of this adventure myself. I try to capture this spirit in my stories, and each time I sit down to write, that challenge is a bit of an adventure in itself.

  You’re all a part of this adventure as well. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of talking with many of you in schools, and this book is the result of hearing firsthand what you want to read about most—power-packed action and excitement.

  You asked for it—so hang on tight while we jump into another thrilling story in my World of Adventure.

  CHAPTER 1

  Rick Williams ran his hand through his short brown hair and looked out the window. The sun wasn’t up yet. He turned his attention back to what he was doing, rolled his sleeping bag tightly, and secured it to the frame of his metal packboard. He was the designated leader of this climb and he wanted no mistakes. Mentally he checked off his list of equipment: headlamp, mittens, sunglasses, food, extra clothing, canteen, cooking kit, compass …

  The front door burst open. A sandy-haired boy who was about three inches taller than Rick strode across the room and fell into the nearest chair. He grinned up at his friend. “I would have bet money on it. How many times have you inspected your pack this week?”

  Rick turned red. “Come off it, J.D. You know the right equipment can mean the difference between life and death up there.”

  J.D. sat up. “There’s not much chance of anybody getting hurt on good old Sugarloaf. Shoot, we’ve climbed that mountain a thousand times. It’s baby stuff.”

  Rick looked at him. “You haven’t talked to Spud yet, have you?”

  “No, I—hey, what are you guys up to?” J.D. asked suspiciously.

  “Did I hear someone mention my name?” A stocky boy with jet-black hair stepped into the room. He set his pack in the middle of the floor and pointed outside. “I left my climbing gear on the porch. We almost ready to go?”

  J.D. stood up. “What did you forget to tell me this time, Spud?”

  “Shhh.” Rick held his hand up and looked back toward the stairs, where his parents’ bedroom was. “We don’t want everybody to know.”

  “This spring break we’re doing things a little different, J.D.,” Spud whispered. “The Rock Jockeys are finally going on a real climb. We’ve worked hard to get in shape and practiced our heads off. Now it’s time to put it all to the test.”

  “Where are we going? Elk Mountain? Timmons Peak?”

  Spud grew serious. “We’re going up the north face—Devil’s Wall.”

  J.D. sucked in a breath. Devil’s Wall was the most dangerous mountain face in the area. “Does your dad know we’re not going to Sugarloaf?” he asked.

  Rick shook his head. “No, but it’s all right. Dad’s our teacher and he knows we’re good. He’s responsible for everything we know about rock climbing. He’ll be proud when we become the first climbers in history to make it up the north face.”

  “After he kills us.” J.D. ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know … I didn’t really come prepared for a climb like this.”

  “Got it covered.” Spud raced to the porch and came back with extra food and supplies. He motioned for J.D. to put the stuff in his own pack.

  J.D. was still worried. “Maybe we should wait till summer. The top is probably covered with ice and snow now.”

  “Come on, J.D.” Rick picked up his pack. “So far everybody in town makes fun of the Rock Jockeys. This is our big chance to show them we’re serious climbers. Think how famous we’ll be: the first, not to mention the youngest, climbers to make it all the way up Devil’s Wall.” Rick paused. “And there’s also the bomber to think of.”

  “Don’t tell me you guys believe that st
upid rumor?”

  The whole town knew the story about how a World War II bomber had supposedly crashed somewhere on the top of Devil’s Wall. The latest gossip was that the crew had all been killed and the government hadn’t been able to recover the plane.

  “What if it’s true?” Spud asked. “What if a bomber actually crashed up there? Wouldn’t it be neat to get to see it up close?”

  “No way.” J.D. shook his head. “The government has had every kind of helicopter and search team up there you can name. They’ve gone over every inch of that mountain from the air and they haven’t found a thing.”

  Spud slapped J.D. on the back. “That’s because they didn’t have the Rock Jockeys helping them.”

  CHAPTER 2

  J.D. looked down at the gentle, tree-studded ridge behind them. It had been simple enough. They really hadn’t had to use any special skills to climb it. It had been more of a hike than anything.

  He turned back to the sheer rock face in front of them. Devil’s Wall was straight up and down. From where they were standing they couldn’t see the snow-covered top. By Spud’s calculations, it would take a full day to make it up there … barring accidents.

  J.D. shook his head. “Rick, your dad always taught us to leave word with someone about where we’re going. I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

  Spud tied the rope in a bowline knot and checked to make sure he had the equipment he needed on his belt. “We left word with Toby Wilson. If we’re not back in four days, he’s supposed to get help.”

  “Lead man ready,” Rick yelled from next to the wall.

  Spud cupped his hand. “Belayer ready.” He looked at J.D. “Well?”

  J.D. hesitated, then grabbed the rope and tied off. “End man ready.”

  The first thirty feet was slow going. Rick picked his way carefully, driving metal pitons into the rock face with his hammer, then pulling himself up. Every ten feet he had to stop and let Spud work his way up behind him. Spud in turn waited for J.D. to bring up the rear.

  The rock face was black and shiny with silver-lined cracks that glistened in the sun. It was an almost completely flat wall of smooth rock, offering them no easy way up. Cautiously Rick led them higher, hammering and pulling until the muscles in his arms ached. Finally he stopped to catch his breath.

  “Resting,” Rick called down. “Chimney ahead.”

  J.D. and Spud were hanging below him. They both knew that a chimney meant hard work. It was a large crevice in the rock. In order to get up it, you had to use your back on one side and your feet on the other, inching up inside, hoping nothing got jammed.

  Spud reached in his pocket for a handful of trail mix. “How are you doing down there?”

  J.D. waved up at him. “So far so good. What’s taking you slowpokes so long?”

  “I heard that.” Rick looked down at him. “I’d drop something on your thick head, but then I’d just have to carry your carcass back down and it isn’t worth it.”

  “You just make sure you don’t fall on my thick head.”

  Rick took a deep breath. “Climber ready.”

  He braced his back and started edging his way up. It was a tight fit. Rick’s knees were almost in his mouth as he struggled through the chimney. Finally he topped out. “I’m up. There’s a ledge here. I’ll anchor and wait.”

  One at a time the other two boys emerged from the long crevice. There was barely enough room for all three to stand on the ledge. Above them was a granite overhang that jutted out almost six feet. Rick had already inserted one piton and was trying to find a toehold.

  The overhang presented a dangerous problem. Rick, as the leader, had to find a way to go out and over the top. It would mean working upside down and trusting all his weight to the pitons he was able to hammer in along the way.

  Spud and J.D. wrapped the rope around themselves and stood ready. Like an oversized spider, Rick climbed along the underside of the rock. He unclipped another piton from his belt and reached for his hammer.

  Suddenly the carabiner, the aluminum oval snaplink attached to the piton, bent and Rick’s body jerked and fell a few inches. Then with a sickening sound the carabiner popped open and the rope came completely loose.

  Rick fell backward into space.

  Spud and J.D. held their ground. Using a hip belay, Spud gave a little slack when Rick hit the end of the rope. The weight of Rick’s body pulled Spud and slammed him against the rock face. But he held on for all he was worth. J.D. anchored around a rock and dug his feet in.

  “We’ve got you, Rick … Rick?” Spud anxiously tried to get a look over the side.

  First there was silence. Then a weak voice called up, “I’m a little shook up, but all right. Pull anytime you’re ready.”

  J.D. and Spud strained on the rope trying to get him back to the ledge. Rick helped every time he got a chance, using tiny cracks and footholds.

  When they hauled him over the edge, his face was white and covered with sweat. He rested for a few minutes and then shakily got to his feet.

  “Hold on.” Spud steadied him. “You should take it easy for a while.”

  Rick shook his head. “No time. If we’re going to make it to the top before dark we have to hustle.”

  J.D. readjusted his pack. “It would be better to spend the night out here on the face than to have the coroner scrape us up off the bottom.”

  Spud swallowed. “If you want to switch places, Rick, I’ll take lead for a while.”

  Rick set his jaw. “I’m the designated leader on this climb.” He turned to the overhang. “And I’ll see it through to the end. Now let’s get going.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “Don’t you look pretty?” Rick frowned as he hauled J.D. on top of the overhang.

  J.D. touched his cheek. Blood came off on his hand. “I guess I must have scraped it coming over.”

  The three of them sat on the narrow overhang, resting and looking down at what they had accomplished so far. They were halfway up the wall with no major problems. But this was nothing; other climbers had made it this far. What had stopped them was what still lay ahead.

  The rock wall above them was as smooth as polished black marble. There were no crevices and no ledges. They would have to fight for every inch.

  Rick looked at his friends. J.D. and Spud nodded silently. Rick stood up and started. His job would be to make the trail. Their job was to make sure he lived through it.

  The sun was already on its way down. The climb was taking longer than any of them had expected. But Rick was determined. He kept going, working at a snail’s pace hammering and moving up.

  The other two followed, always keeping a watchful eye. At the slightest hint of a slip, Spud and J.D. pulled the rope taut and prayed the pitons would hold them.

  Rick was fast becoming exhausted. The climb had taken a lot out of him. He looked down. Spud and J.D. resembled tiny insects trailing along behind him. Everything looked so small and insignificant from up here.

  “Putting on headlamp,” Rick yelled down. He reached in his pack and pulled it out. They were losing the light. From here to the top they would have to work wearing the lamps.

  The headlamp threw weird shadows and made it hard to decide where to hammer. Rick unclipped a piton and started to pound it in. The rock was rotten and small pieces came loose in his hand. A big chunk fell out. He grabbed for it and missed.

  “Rock!”

  Spud covered his head and buried his face in the wall as the rock sailed by. J.D. wasn’t as lucky. The chunk smashed into his shoulder.

  “You rock brain. What are you trying to do up there—kill me?”

  Rick breathed a sigh of relief. He knew if J.D. was yelling at him, he wasn’t hurt too bad. He shouted back, “Just trying to keep you guys on your toes.”

  “Wait till we reach the top,” J.D. called. “I’ll show you how much I appreciate it.”

  They worked in silence for the next two hours. The only sounds in the still evening were the clang of the
hammer and the groans of the three climbers.

  Rick felt above him for the next place to hammer. There was none. Instead his hand grabbed a flat rock. Using both arms, he hoisted himself over the edge. He sat on his knees and pointed his headlamp in front of him. There were patches of snow and trees everywhere.

  A slow grin started in one corner of his mouth. He threw his arms in the air triumphantly.

  “We made it!”

  CHAPTER 4

  They hadn’t stopped grinning and high-fiving each other since J.D. had finally pulled himself over the top. No one in history had ever climbed the entire face of Devil’s Wall and lived to tell about it.

  Setting up camp for the night had taken less time than usual. The boys were too happy to realize how exhausted they were.

  When the sun came up, J.D. ignored it. He turned over inside his sleeping bag and tried to get comfortable. He was almost sound asleep again when he heard the other two tramp back into camp.

  Spud winked at Rick. “I heard its favorite meal was human flesh wrapped in a bedroll.”

  Rick shook his head. “No, it spits out the sleeping bag and bites the victim’s head off, letting the blood slowly drain into its hideous mouth.”

  J.D. sat up. “What are you two morons talking about? Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here?”

  “Rick thought he heard something moving around in those trees last night.” Spud looked at Rick. “Should I tell him what we suspect?”

  Rick tried to keep a straight face. “He might as well know what we’re up against.”

  “We think it’s … the Abominable Snowman.”

  J.D. lay back down. “You guys are hilarious. I’m going back to sleep.”

  “Come on, J.D.” Spud pulled on the end of the sleeping bag. “How can you sleep with that bomber somewhere up here?”

  “I told you, it’s not here.” J.D. rolled over. “Otherwise the government would have found it by now.” He was quiet for a moment, then quickly turned back to his friends. “You didn’t really hear anything out there, did you, Rick?”