31. My Machu Picchu

Hope was fading. Two men had started out, thinking I could sit and be carried on their clasped hands—but the ledge was too narrow and they turned back. They searched for something pole-like to extend and guide me—but the semitropical vegetation offered nothing and, besides that, I could not walk. They debated whether one man could carry me over one shoulder without tottering, wobbling and both of us falling 1000+ feet to the Rio Urubamba—but the risk was too great to try it. Nonetheless, with faith, determination and no plan, one man side-stepped his way to me. (100)