Duncan's Unplanned Hike




The sun beat down on the rocks. Summer in the Rockies was always a great time.
The fresh mountain air, the warm days and cool nights, and lots of places to
go to be very alone. Duncan was enjoying the last part especially as he
gripped the rock tightly. He was halfway up a large boulder, about 20 feet up
this 40 foot face. Enjoyed the somewhat dangerous activity of climbing alone,
though he'd taken precautions to anchor a rope above and had one end tied into
his climbing harness and the other end through his GRIGRI, a belay device that
would allow him to pull rope through in one direction but would require him to
pull a lever to lower back down. In this way, he'd stop every few feet and
pull more rope through, so that he'd be able to get caught by the rope in case
he fell.

Aside from the harness and climbing shoes, he had only his Under Armour
compression shorts in black and the faded blue Prana climbing shorts for
clothing. The shorts, popular with many climbers, had a signature thick black
elastic waistband topping the shorts. To fit well with harnesses, they were
tight around his legs but had ample room in the crotch to allow for all the
stretching movements necessary. In the mid-80s summer afternoon, it was all he
needed, especially with the effort it was expending.

Pulling his body around an outcropping, Duncan let go with a hand to pull in
his rope's slack. Once that was tight, he continued up. This was his last
climb of the day, and he was glad his bag was at the top instead of the
bottom. It didn't contain much now, just his spare climbing shorts (the same
style in green), the t-shirt he'd hiked here in, a sweatshirt in case it got
cold, and his ankle socks and hiking shoes. It would, after all, be a good
three or four hours hike back to the cabin he'd rented for his hiking and
climbing sabbatical trip. Duncan wasn't worried though. His phone had been on
a solar charger on top of the boulder for awhile so he'd have plenty of GPS
and flashlight time between that and his spare battery.

Arriving at the top, Duncan surveyed the scene behind him as he hung on his
rope. His head was barely above the top of the boulder, so he knew he'd have
no trouble climbing the last bit, but he wanted to rest on the harness and
enjoy the view for awhile before setting himself back on horizontal ground. He
absentmindedly brushed some of the chalk of his hands onto his shorts before
reaching behind his back and closing the chalk bag that hung there on a thin
belt he wrapped over the harness.

Duncan wasn't looking forward to lugging the rope and anchor gear back to the
cabin and briefly contemplated leaving them there for tomorrow. But he could
lose his gear that way, and climbing rope wasn't cheap at all. Still, there
was no rush now, nobody waiting for him at the cabin that was all his for
three whole weeks, and nobody expecting to hear from him until he returned
home from his trip. Life was simple and good, he decided as he spread his arms
out wide and placed each hand on top of the boulder behind him.

Without warning, his wrists were grabbed and quickly pulled together. Facing
the wrong way and hanging from his harness, Duncan could only try to push out
with his feet, but the harness fought against him as his own weight kept him
from getting decent leverage. Before he could think, he felt metal around his
wrists and discovered he couldn't move them apart or pull them toward his
body. He attempted to turn his head to confirm that his wrists were cuffed and
locked to the anchor, but hands roughly grabbed his head and a sickly
sweet-smelling rag was shoved in his face.

The rag wasn't wet, but Duncan guessed the chemical was somewhere inside the
folds of cloth. He thought he knew what it was, but he didn't pass out right
away. He supposed chloroform didn't work like in the movies, all instant and
such. Indeed, eventually things started to blur slowly. With his legs pointing
the wrong way in the harness and his hands restrained, he couldn't do a thing
to remove the rag held strongly in front of his mouth and nose. After a bit
longer, he didn't much want to fight anyhow. Things got darker and his
struggles lessened as his tired and sweaty body began to go limp. The last
thing he thought before blacking out was, I wonder who was crazy enough to
climb the hard side of this boulder without a rope?

Part II

The light slowly returned, though not as brightly as before. Duncan blinked a
few times and felt his climbing harness digging into his seat.Strange, he
thought, I must have bumped my head on the rock and gone a little woozy.

Duncan went to check his head, but found that he couldn't move his hands.
Shaking a few more cobwebs out, he realized that his hands were tied behind
his back, crossed at the wrists. Upon trying to get his feet against the rock,
Duncan also noticed that they were tied together and bent up and further tied,
putting him into a hogtie hanging from his climbing harness. Duncan also
noticed that some more rope was wrapped around his bare chest and tied to the
belaying rope, keeping him upright instead of flipping upside down like this
position would naturally do in the climbing harness.

He was about halfway down the boulder, a few feet out from the rock because it
was inverted slightly as it went down, and noticed that he was only hanging
from one end of the rope. He looked up but couldn't see where his GRIGRI could
have been attached to. Attempting to holler up to see if anybody was up there,
Duncan noticed something else. His mouth was filled with something soft and
pliable but he couldn't spit it out. Duct tape had been wrapped around his
head, enough times that he couldn't get his lips apart even a bit. He squirmed
and pulled against the ropes, but they were tied well enough that he wasn't
going to be going anywhere.

A bag, his own, sailed down from the top of the boulder. For a moment, he
worried something would break, but remembered that nothing in there was
breakable unless whoever was up top had put his phone inside. Duncan looked
down to where it landed, seeing a second pack nearby as well. This one was
more full though, since Duncan's had space for the rope he was currently
hanging by.

Without so much as someone leaning out to look, Duncan felt himself being
slowly lowered. Whoever it was knew what they were doing though. In fact,
thinking back to earlier, this person definitely knew what they were doing.
The face Duncan had climbed was a low 5.11 climb, but the other side was
either a high 5.11 or low 5.12. Impossible for an amateur and a challenge for
even an experienced climber. Whoever it was absolutely knew climbing and
climbing gear.

As he touched down, Duncan noticed that it was definitely dusk instead of
afternoon. He must have been kept out for awhile as whoever it was made
preparations to lower him. Fighting the ropes again, now on the ground, Duncan
found them just as secure as before with the tension of hanging added. He
grunted into the gag, but found that almost no noise came out. He certainly
wouldn't be getting anybody else's attention out here in the mountains away
from roads and beaten trails.

The rope and anchor also fell to the ground, leaving likely nothing left up
there but his captor. He briefly considered trying to roll or crawl away, best
as possible while hogtied, but he realized that he'd be dragging an 80 foot
rope securely tied to his harness which could be easily grabbed to stop him.
Duncan lie still and watched his captor climb down.

He wore blue gym shorts with a black stripe down the side and down-climbed
like an expert. From the back muscles Duncan could see, the captor was every
bit as strong as Duncan, possibly stronger. With the evenness in strength,
Duncan saw little possibility in fighting back as long as he had rope on his
arms. His captor likely new this. The other climber, looking like a college
freshman or sophomore, seemed a couple years Duncan's junior.

The dusk light reflected off the captor's shorts as he neared the bottom,
shadows being cast by the rocks on his body. With a graceful hop, the young
man jumped down and walked over to Duncan with a grin on his face. "We've got
quite a hike ahead of us," he said, "Better get ready to walk until midnight."

Part III

Mike eyed the hogtied climber on the ground in front of him. He wondered if
the guy even recognized him. Probably not, but then again the chloroform was
likely still wearing off. The guy hadn't tried to roll away while Mike was
downclimbing, so that was a positive sign that he was already getting a bit
submissive. Either that, or he knew that Mike would be able to grab any part
of the 80 foot climbing rope still tied onto the captive's harness and pull
him back in easily.

Checking the right pocket of his blue athletic shorts, Mike found and pulled
out the handcuff that had been in there. He had to get this guy ready to walk,
but that meant making sure he wouldn't try anything. Mike flipped his captive
over and slapped the cuffs onto his already bound wrists, making sure to loop
the cuff chain through one of the accessory loops on the back on Duncan's
harness. It would be helpful for his hands to be locked in addition to the
rope, and keeping them secure against he harness would further the restraint.

Next, Mike looked at the long climbing rope, one end still securely tied to
the front of Duncan's harness. Mike wished that he could make Duncan pack it
up, but didn't trust his captive yet with free hands. Mike grabbed the rope
close to the harness, ran a length up Duncan's chest and looped it a few times
around the guy's neck. Duncan made angry gag sounds but Mike just knotted it
off. It took a couple minutes to coil up the remaining rope length, as well as
to pack the anchor straps and such into Duncan's bag.

"Ok," Mike said, turning back to Duncan, "I'm going to untie your feet now and
you're going to stand up. If you try anything, just remember the long rope
tied to your neck and think about how far you'll get."

* * *

Duncan moaned into the gag. If his feet were being untied, then he was really
going to be made to walk. That also meant he could get lost and be unable to
find his way back to the cabin, should he manage to evade his captor later.
After the muscular captor worked at the ropes a bit, Duncan found he could
extend his legs. A couple minutes later and he was able to move them freely.

With some difficulty, Duncan got himself up to his feet, his hands still
securely tied behind him. He turned to see his captor putting on a black
tank-top with orange stripes down the side. A sudden flash of memory hit
Duncan, of the guy in the same outfit on a bouldering wall at a competition
the previous winter. So that's who it is, Duncan thought, It's Mike, the guy I
beat out at the top rope section of the championships!

Duncan started to panic. This was going to be more than some sort of climber's
prank for sure. Mike had won both lead climbing and bouldering and had been
pissed that Duncan had beat him out in the third category. It had nearly come
to blows right there in front of a crowd, but now they were in the middle of
nowhere and Duncan was helpless.

The weight of Duncan's pack on his shoulders brought him out of his thoughts
and back to the moment. Mike came around and clipped the waist and chest
straps on the pack, so even with Duncan's arms tied the pack was secure in
place. Duncan looked down at his still strapped-on climbing shoes. Hiking
would be murder is those. He looked up at Mike and tried to make as sad a look
as he could manage with his face half-covered in tape. Mike followed Duncan's
repeated gaze downward. "Ok," Mike said, "Since we've got a full day's worth
of hiking ahead of us, and your hands aren't coming loose for any of it, I
suppose you can wear your hiking shoes instead."

Mike had Duncan lift up one leg at a time to change out the shoes, then
clipped Duncan's climbing shoes somewhere to his pack in the back. "You're
going to go in front," Mike said, "That way I can keep an eye on you.
Remember, most if your climbing rope is in your back, but I'm holding the part
that goes right to your neck. Try to run and you'll be on the ground before
you know it."

Duncan moaned and looked down at the ground. He tried a few more times to pull
at the ropes on his hands, but there wasn't any movement there. Mike indicated
a direction and Duncan started walking.

The sun eventually went down, bathing the whole area in the pitch dark of
night without any artificial lights around. An LED flashlight clicked on
behind Duncan and illuminated the path ahead. For a moment, Duncan had home
that someone might see him in the flashlight. Even if that happened, however,
Duncan would just look like a hiker gripping the bottom of his pack, and the
light was pointed at the ground so the tape on his face wouldn't be visible
from any sort of distance. Duncan resigned himself to the walk, knowing he was
stuck for a good while.

The nighttime mountain air grew chilly, causing Duncan to shiver a bit despite
the physical activity. His exposed shirtless body seemed to bleed heat as he
walked, and he couldn't even so much as wrap his arms in front. He doubted
Mike would be in the mood to let his arms go either, since that is what it
would take to get a shirt on.

The moon was quite high by the time Mike tugged on the neck rope. "We're going
to rest here until sunup," Mike said, "It's four or five hours away, so I'll
be taking a bit of a nap and want you secure first."

Mike dropped his pack and opened it, pulling out four 12 inch tent pegs. Mike
dropped them on the ground and stood Duncan under an overhanging tree branch.
Mike then removed Duncan's pack. The cold air on his back made Duncan shiver
even more. "Aww, a bit chilly?" Mike asked, "Guess you picked wrong with
climbing shirtless earlier."

Duncan wondered if he was going to be tied out to the tent stakes, since that
would let his hands go at least long enough for Mike to let him get a shirt
on. Mike didn't say anything more, however. Duncan felt the rope untied from
his neck, but it still remained tied to his climbing harness. Mike then threw
it over the hanging tree branch. The captor then tied Duncan's anchor straps
to another small tree trunk several feet away and attached Duncan's belay
device. A moment later, and the rope was run through it. The belay device
would remain locked, and if Mike pulled the rope through it'd stay where he
pulled it.

Mike then had Duncan lay down and proceeded to redo the hogtie from earlier.
Duncan wondered if he was going to be hung up like earlier, but then
remembered the stakes. Mike pounded those into the ground all around Duncan,
centering him right underneath where the rope hung from above. Duncan was then
roughly flipped onto his back and his tied limbs, which hurt a lot. Duncan
grunted in protest, but Mike just laughed. "Don't worry," he said, "You won't
be on your hands for long."

Mike tied some shorter ropes to Duncan's knees and then secured them to two of
the begs, spreading Duncan's legs apart wide. Mike then did the same treatment
on Duncan's shoulders to the other two pegs. Duncan was stuck in place on his
back. "One last touch," Mike said, "And you're good for the night."

The younger climber grabbed the rope near the belay device and did a pull-up
on it. The resulting force pulled Duncan's midsection up off the ground. Mike
then reached over with one hand and pulled rope through the GRIGRI, ensuring
that the slack was well taken out. When he let go, Duncan dropped a small bit,
but was still essentially off the ground, hogtied, and held face up by the
four ropes to tent stakes.

Duncan grunted into the gag, annoyed since his head would flop upside down if
he tried to rest his neck muscles. "Don't worry," Mike said, "You need some
rest too."

With that, Mike shoved Duncan's pack under his head, giving him some measure
of relaxation. Duncan felt gratitude for a moment, than anger as he realized
that Mike was wearing his sweatshirt. Duncan tried to say some bad words
through the gag, but it just came out as angry grunts. He squirmed against the
ropes too, but his hands were still as secure as ever so he wasn't going
anywhere. Mike curled up near Duncan on the ground and rested his head on his
own pack. "Sleep tight," Mike said, "We have another few hours hike in the
morning so you should get some rest."

Duncan tried his hands again to no avail, and resigned himself to being stuck
there. He shivered in the cold, his thin shorts offering little protection as
his only article of clothing.