Blue Balls 4 Poor Theo
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Path Of The Blue SpiritChapter 5 free porn video
Kara walked into the kitchen before dawn, the smell of coffee and eggs and sizzling bacon rich in the air. Ellen walked over to her without speaking and gave her a very prolonged and fierce hug. Mark's father Tom looked slightly surprised at the intensity of the emotions his wife was showing, but otherwise just nodded his greeting at Kara and smiled. Kara caught Mark's eyes, and she realized Mark had found the time to tell his mother about the horrors in Kara's childhood. Kara felt overwhelmed with a feeling that she was no longer an orphan.
After breakfast, Kara and Mark began to pack for their hike, with Mark's father helping them. "So Mark, have any particular destination in mind?"
"Yeah dad. I thought we would visit the Blue Spirit. It's fairly close, less than three miles as the crow flies, and there's so little snow right now the climbing shouldn't be difficult. We should be back by sundown. We'll take the walkie-talkies of course."
Kara looked up with interest at what Mark had said. "The Blue Spirit? Is that a person or a place?"
"A mountain," Mark replied. "The Hopewell Indians had a very unusual name for it. They called it the Awesome Path of the Lost Blue Spirit. You'll be able to see a small bluestone wall they built around the conical top of the mountain. Really, really old. Maybe over 2000 years."
"Terrible, not awesome," said Tom. "My granddad told me the Hopewell word translates to terrible."
"Well," said Kara, "maybe it means both. Different cultures will do different things with ideas. Maybe they combined the concepts of awesome and terrible into one word. Wait a minute! I have an interest in anthropology. I've read some books on Indian history. I didn't think anything of the Hopewell language was known. I thought the tribe was prehistoric."
"True enough," said Tom. "The evidence suggests they disappeared in this area around 900 C.E., and were gone everywhere by a hundred years later. There's nothing published about their language. But when I was a very young boy, my granddad Iron Bill had me on his lap, and told me a story his great granddad John Herrick told him. As a young explorer John once met a really old Indian shaman, who told him a story passed down in his Shawnee tribe about the Hopewell people and their song of the Blue Spirit. The shaman said the Spirit was a giant serpent that could move through rocks and leave perfectly round tunnels in its wake. He insisted the Blue Spirit was not lost, that the word lost referred to the people who had stumbled onto its terrible path."
"Wow!" said Kara. "Sounds like a great ghost story!"
"Well, Iron Bill didn't believe in ghosts. But he gave that mountain a wide berth. The mountain isn't that large, but there's a strange solemn presence about it. You'll see it yourself, or I guess I should say hear it."
"Huh?"
"What my dad is referring to Kara, is that the mountain is remarkably quiet. You won't really notice it now, not in winter. But in the summer, the forest just seems to be a lot more quiet there than anywhere else. It looks rich and healthy, just quiet. It's a little spooky."
"More than a little..." said Tom quietly. He nodded at Kara and left the room.
Kara and Mark continued to pack their bags for the day's hike. Kara blinked when she saw Mark strap on a Glock holster and pack two extra clips of ammo. "Hey partner," she said, trying to imitate a Western drawl, "You packin a shootin iron?"
"Well, what do you think, a good defense against nasty blue spirits?" Mark laughed. "Actually, it's for the wildcats. Usually they're very shy, but every once in a while, one of them makes a wrong connection between people and food. Just firing a shot in the air reminds them who's boss..."
Kara paused for a moment, and then walked over to the gun case and strapped on her own Glock holster. Mark smiled at her and then packed the pistol scopes and two extra boxes of ammo into his bag, along with something Kara didn't recognize.
"Holy shit Mark! That's 400 shots, 15 pounds of ammo! You want to carry all that?! Are we going to war against the wildcats?"
"Ha! No. There's a really nice spot on the trail for target shooting. We'll probably have enough time on the way back for some practice. I'd love to see you shoot! Would you mind packing the sleeping bag? I'll be packing the pup tent."
"Huh? I thought this was just a day's expedition. And you're packing enough survival rations for a week..."
"Just survival planning. Weather report is for clear skies, I'm certain we'll be fine. It's very rugged country though. It's nice to have some backup if something unexpected happens..."
A short time later, Kara and Mark said goodbye to the parents and started their upward hike in the pre-dawn light. Kara was delighted at the scenery around her as the sun's first light became visible.
"Kara, it'll be about a three hour hike to the top of Blue Spirit. The whole preserve is one big box canyon. This gorge by my parent's house is the only walkable path into it. Any other route would involve some really serious technical climbing. That's why we never have to worry about trespassers. It's also a bit of a maze inside. Don't wander out of my eyesight, okay? And if you do, call for me. And if that doesn't work, give me a call on the walkie-talkie immediately."
"Okay... Gosh, this is all so pretty! And the air is so sweet!"
"Yes... I also have a big surprise for you. I think I've might have found the lost Blue Spirit."
"What?! Really?"
"Yep! A part of it is just a little too risky to explore myself. I found a cave on Blue Spirit Mountain that's unlike anything I've ever seen. I can't wait to show it to you."
"No one else knows about it?"
"No..."
"Perhaps we shouldn't explore it, if nobody knows where we are."
"It's a short vertical tunnel. I carried the sections of a modular ladder there last August. Just take a look at it, tell me what you think."
"Okay! A great mystery! I feel that I'm a part of a ghost story. This is so much fun!"
Mark was right. It was well after 10 AM before they finally neared the top of Blue Spirit. Kara noticed the quiet presence of the mountain, but didn't think it was anything extraordinary. She smiled at the memory of the ghost story. Then Mark abruptly changed direction. Instead of taking the obvious path to the top, Mark guided Kara in a difficult sideways climb in a circle around the conical peak. "Look Kara, you can just see a part of the blue stone wall from here, maybe 60 feet farther up."
"I see it! I agree. I make it to be another 50 to 60-foot vertical rise from here. This top part of the mountain is so different Mark! This rock is igneous, granite! How in the world did it get on top of all the sedimentary rock below here? It seems perfectly conical, like an idealized volcano, with the slope increasing to about 45 degrees. A vertical cross section would be a right triangle at the top. Very strange indeed."
"Kara, do you see the cave opening right in front of you?"
"What?!" Kara stared at the shifting patterns in the coarse grains of the granite rocks. "No. Are you serious?"
"Yep! Watch this trick!"
Mark took a few steps and the granite just seemed to swallow him. Kara called out "Mark, I've lost eye contact! Mark!" Mark reappeared as if by magic.
"Some illusion, huh? The outside crack pattern matches the cave's indentation, the illusion of a solid ragged wall is superb!"
"It looked like you just slipped into nothing. How did you ever find this?"
"Ever since I was a young boy, I knew I'd be the owner, the steward of this canyon. I took my charge very seriously. I collected all my family's folklore, all the maps, stories, diaries of people who explored here, all the Hopewell Indian legends. The Delaware and the Shawnee wouldn't come near this mountain, but I think the Hopewell tribe used to live here, until about 900 C.E. Then they all vanished... John Herrick's diaries are extensive. I studied them a lot. He listed over 300 words that came from their language. One day I realized that the Hopewell name for the base of this cone was a compound word for cave and opening..."
Mark looked out at the canyon below him and breathed deeply. "I started to see a pattern in the puzzle of the Blue Spirit. The clues are scattered across many of John's writings, but together they suggested a cave entrance hidden just like this. I spent last summer looking for it, hiking out here almost every day to search. I found this at the end of July, and spent the next month carrying in supplies and the ladder, one 4-foot section at a time. Come on! I'll give you a direct view of the Blue Spirit! It really is blue, and very pretty."
The cryptic comment was irresistible. Mark got out a flashlight while Kara took a brief last look at the weather, seeing a few high clouds partially blocking the sun. She then followed Mark into the cave entrance. They walked single file along a narrow path, a moderate incline with irregular walls and floor. After walking for about 60 feet, they entered a small circular chamber. "Take a look around Kara, tell me what you think."
Kara was standing at the bottom of a circular well 40 feet deep and 10 feet across. Mark reached down and handed her a second flashlight from another backpack that was lying on the ground at the base of the ladder. Kara turned it on and started to examine the chamber's rock wall. "Mark, this makes no sense. I was expecting more granite, or maybe basalt, thinking this well could be part of an ancient volcano vent. But this rock is metamorphic, it's been re-crystallized. It's marble! Looks to be of a beautiful quality too. But how could a circular marble tunnel be formed in the middle of a granite cone? This makes no sense. Mark! This marble looks like re-crystallized limestone, the surface looks polished! Could this tunnel be artificial? It has to be manmade, right?"
"I puzzled the same question. Look at the erosion wear on the walls though. I was here in August when water was flowing down the walls."
"Wow, you're right. It would take a million years to wear like this, at least. This rippling is classic water carving. Not man made at all... All this still makes no sense! I remember you once told me that this canyon is riddled with caves. Are they all this bizarre?"
"Nope! All the others I've been in are classic limestone caves. Groundwater leaks in and reacts with the carbonate rocks to create carbolic acid, and the weak acid carves the limestone. Wonderful caves, but understandable. No re-crystallizing of the limestone into polished marble. I've never been able to make any sense of this cave. Want to hear something else spooky about it?"
"Sure!"
The water running down the rocks doesn't seem to correlate with the weather outside. I've been here when it's pouring rain outside and dry as a bone here, and other times when it's been dry for days outside and there's a film of water running down the walls. The cave can be very dank and drafty when the water's flowing."
"Wow! There must be some sort of catchment to store the water. I wonder what releases it? Where's it flowing from?"
There's a small tunnel at the top of this vertical well. It flows from there."
"Mark, what does the top of this mountain look like?"
For the last 60 vertical feet, it's almost a perfect 45-degree cone. But it doesn't go to a point. Think of cutting the top off of a cone to leave a 10-foot diameter flat circle. The Hopewell tribe then built a two-foot wall around the perimeter of the circle. Inside the wall are small crushed stones, all sorts mixed together. The Hopewell obviously went through a lot of effort to make all this."
Kara nodded thoughtfully, staring at the marble walls and the aluminum ladder Mark had constructed within the well.
"Well Kara, ready to see the Blue Spirit?"
"Okay!"
"Point your flashlight straight up, and then run the beam around the top wall of the well."
Kara did as she was told, and gasped. "My gosh, it's so beautiful! But what is it?"
"I don't know. Want a closer look?"
"Oh yes! Will the ladder support both of us at once?"
"It's designed to, but I don't want to chance it. Why take the risk? Let me climb up first and sit on the ledge at the top of the tunnel." Kara and Mark both removed their backpacks. Mark took some ropes from the third backpack and tied one to each of the backpacks. Holding onto the other end of the ropes, he quickly climbed the ladder and sat on the ledge. He shined his light on the ladder and Kara was soon standing on the ladder just below him. Kara shined her own light back and forth on the blue circular ring that circled the tunnel about a foot below the ledge. Mark sat silently as Kara pondered her observations.
After extended thinking, Kara finally spoke. "This is so beautiful, so incredible... I shine my light anywhere on the ring and the whole ring lights up. There must be multiple internal reflections inside. Must be some sort of crystal. It's as brilliant as a blue diamond! But it's also as iridescent as an opal. Mark, we both know the pressure and temperature and time it takes to grow the diamond lattice structure from carbon. There's no way you can grow a ring of diamond. Ha! Especially not one 10-feet in diameter. So what the hell is this?"
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