Message-ID: <19135eli$9901220433@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Robert Kraft Subject: (ASSM) {RobertKraft} RightTurnOnBlack Chapter3: HotDog [Part 3/4] (mm/f, rom, fp, or, an, (voy)) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19990116024133.26723.rocketmail@web306.yahoomail.com> WARNING: These stories contain graphic language, sexual actions between M/F and F/F, as well as violence, illegal substance abuse, immorality, and illegal activity. If any of the above offend you, please do not read this story. All stories are copyright. These stories are two parts fact, one part fiction. Some names and places have been changed, and a few events are slightly different (usually cause I don't remember exact words spoken), but everything is pretty close to the real situation I experienced. If you recognize yourself in this story though, it isn't you! Please forward comments/requests to: RKraft99@yahoo.com Right Turn on Black by Robert Kraft Chapter 3: Hot Dog - Part 3 (of 4) The way Seventh Avenue begins from that area looks like a cliff as you approach it, but it is really not steep at all. It is just the way the edge looks as you near it. Seventh Avenue, also called Broadway, runs from where we had gotten off the lift down to the top of Park and Madison Avenues on the east side of the mountain. It is a crossing trail, to get from one side of the mountain to the other. Leaving Seventh Avenue to the left and towards the base lodge were several interesting trails, such as Eisenhower and Bleeker Street. From the summit, black diamond and double diamond trails empty into Seventh Avenue, starting with the Cliff, which empties at the lift's end, followed by Hellgate and others, until the bottom of K27 meets it 1500 feet later. At the bottom of K27 a double chair leaves immediately for the summit, so that people skiing the expert trails from the summit do not need to waste time with novice trails at the bottom just to get on a longer lift. After that lift, Seventh Avenue leads to an area of intermediate and novice trails, including the mentioned Mossy Brook. Perhaps an explanation of the symbols would be appropriate here. A green circle designates the easiest trails, for novice or beginner. Usually they are slow zones, so the better skiers generally avoid them. A blue square stands for an intermediate trail, which can range from boring to moderately fun. Black diamond trails are where the real skiing takes place, and these runs are always steep, and challenging. Some diamond trails have moguls, which are hard snow bumps, scattered across them. Others are just slick and steep. The hardest trails are the double diamonds, and they are very steep, 35 degrees inclination or more. That doesn't sound steep, but believe me, when you are standing at the top of K27 looking down, it is fucking steep! The numbers are deceiving: Thirty-five degrees would be like putting one end of your bed onto a four-foot high dresser. Add a few fridge-sized lumps to it, cover with snow, put on two long slippery pieces of wood, stand on your dresser, and look down. Only then will you see what it's like to look at the first 1 percent of K27. Then imagine it stretching another 100 bed lengths and widen it by a few hundred feet. It is intimidating at first, and deadly at worst, but exhilarating once you ski it. So we set off down Seventh Avenue for a bit. The snow was excellent, by New England standards, at least: packed powder, as it is called, and pockets of looser powder here and there. We skied down at a leisurely pace, carving wide esses across the ample slope, except Mike who bee-lined it to the turnoff for Eisenhower where he stopped and waited for us. I was in no hurry, and it felt good to try out the snow and flex unused muscles. I looked at Michelle ahead of me. She skies good, I thought, watching her legs flex up and down, absorbing the small bumps and turns. I pushed ahead and caught up to her as we approached Mike. "Not bad!" I yelled, smiling. "Yeah, the snow is nice!" she yelled back. "No, I mean your skiing!" "Oh, thanks!" We soon came to a stop next to Mike. Kevin was behind and arrived a few seconds later. "What took you so long. I already ate lunch!" said Mike. I knew he would say something like that. "Shut up," I retorted. "Alright, Eisenhower next, and we'll take the same lift, I guess." I set off first, passing into the narrower channel that was the beginning of Eisenhower drive. I looked back, Kevin and Michelle followed, and Mike, who was fussing with a glove, was just turning to push off. I picked up some speed as the main slope of the trail approached and I zipped down the hill. Two weeks of waxing my skis had provided ample slickness, and I felt a good gust of wind as I was reaching the bottom. I skied through the flat bottom and across the Battery and over to the lift line area. I paralleled to a nice stop, kicking up a small wave of snow. I am warmed up now, I thought. Kevin and Michelle were a bit slower, but in skiing delays are counted in seconds so they were not far behind. They pulled up and waited with me, looking back for Mike. "Maybe we should just go to another lift," I said, only half joking. "Nah, there he is." He shot around the bend of trees and headed for us, in a tucked position. He had considerable speed, because of both his weight and his extra long 200-centimeter skis. "Shit," I said. He was not slowing at all, and I could see a grin on his face. "Fucker!" I managed only to turn my head before being engulfed in a cloud of white. About 20 feet away, he had paralleled to a stop, kicking up a huge could of snow, directed right at us three. It's an old ski prank. And annoying as hell, because the snow gets all in your neck and face and head, and it's goddamn cold as hell. If the person pulling the prank wipes out, there could be disastrous consequences of course. Fortunately Mike didn't crash land into us. When the mist cleared Mike was standing there laughing, unscathed, while the three of us were draped with patches of snow. I was pretty pissed as I brushed some snow off my neck and coat. "What the fuck, asshole?" I said. "You guys look a little wet, did you take a fall?" he asked mockingly. I discreetly gathered a small ball of snow as I was brushing myself off, and hurled it at his head. He turned a bit, but it nailed him on the ear. "Shit," he let out, and started to scrape up snow from the ground to return fire. "Quit it, ass," said Kevin. Michelle was still trying to remove the snow from behind her hat. In an ungentlemanly effort to hide from the imminent snowball, and also to help her out, I got behind her and brushed the snow away. Mike got up and threw a handful of snow at Kevin. It hit his arm. Mike bent down at the waist again and started gathering again. Kevin looked a bit mad now, and he took his pole, and firmly placed it on Mike's boot, pushing hard. In a moment, Mike was on the floor, one ski popping awkwardly off with a snap. Michelle and I laughed. "Let's go," I said, pulling back and making for the line as Mike got up, cursing to himself. The line was short, but not short enough to get on before Mike was geared up again and on the line with us. He slid up next to Kevin, not saying anything. We stood in silence. Suddenly, Kevin lost his balance and tumbled into Michelle, who fell domino-like into me. I was able to put my pole out and keep us up with one hand as I put my arm around Michelle's waist to help keep her balance. Kevin steadied himself. I noticed his one ski was off, and Mike was sniggering. "What was that?" I asked, as Michelle straightened up and I reluctantly let go of her waist. "Dickhead here pushed out my binding. That was real funny Mike. Fuckin' asshole." "Yo, will you chill?" I said to Mike. He broke out into a laugh. God, he could be so annoying. Mike somehow had taken Kevin's place so Michelle was between Mike and me. Kevin was behind, stepping into his binding again. I looked back, and gave Kevin a little nod. Kevin pointed to Mike's boot questioningly. I shook my head, and mouthed "push him up." Kevin gently placed his poles on Mike's ski backs, and then pushed hard. Mike burst forward, bumping up against the people in front of us. Unfortunately he managed to stop himself and apologize to them quick enough to maintain his balance, and maintain his position next to Michelle as well. I looked back, and gave Kevin a shrug. Looked like Kevin was gonna ride alone since we were next. The people in front sat in their chair and we pushed off into the loading zone. But as soon as Mike was committed, I jabbed my pole in front of Michelle's body and into the snow on the other side of her, bringing her to a quick but easy stop against it. Mike didn't see it until he was already in the pickup zone, and we laughed as he was forced to sit alone on his chair. He let out a "Shit." The chair operator told him not to curse, and we laughed again. The three of us got on the next chair. I slapped palms with Kevin. "That was a nice move there, Rob," said Michelle. I liked the way she said my name. "Sorry, I hope it didn't hurt." "No, not at all. I was thinking of stopping so I was kinda ready for it." "Mike can be a real dick when he gets going." "Yeah, I've noticed. My neck is still wet." "We gotta lose him man," said Kevin, softly. "I can't ski with him all day." "Yeah. Let's wait until we hit the summit, and then it will be easy. Down here if we try and lose him we'll meet him again for sure." We skied a few more runs without incident until it was time to test out. We skied up to the instruction hut, where Luke and Debbie were waiting. Tonya and Valerie were also there. There was no instructor in the hut, so we took off our gloves and hats, and stood around. It was five of ten. We waited, mostly in silence, for about fifteen minutes. "Where is this guy?" someone said. "Yeah, what's the deal. We are wasting our money here." We waited some more, getting increasingly angry and frustrated. At ten twenty someone went into the main lodge to look for an instructor, but found no one. Crowds were forming as the late risers from New York were arriving at the slopes, and good skiing was being wasted. "This sucks dick," I said, to no one and everyone. "Yeah. I say we just go." said Michelle. "Five more minutes, and then we're gone." In another five minutes, at ten-forty, we were putting on hats and glasses when an instructor skied up. He took off his shades and looked at us. He was about to go in the hut. "Hello, we are here to test for the summit," I yelled over. "What?" "We need to test out to be able to go to the summit." I showed him my pass stamp. "Are you all taking lessons?" "No." "O.K., wait a second." He went inside, and a few minutes passed. Finally he emerged, with some stamp in hand. "Alright, lemme see your passes." He started walking around, adding a new stamp to our passes. It said "Belt Parkway only" on it. "Wait, what's this?" I asked. "It's a stamp for the summit." "But it says "Belt Parkway Only"?" "Yeah. That's all you can ski from the summit." "What!? We want to do the other trails." "You have group beginner passes, and I can only stamp you for Belt Parkway unless you take a lesson." "How long does that take?" "An hour, starts at twelve." "What the hell, we all know how to ski well!" "Sorry," he said, "mountain rules." He walked on, and finished stamping the other's passes. "Bullshit," I said. "Damn right it's bullshit," said Kevin, loudly. The instructor didn't hear or care, and geared up and went into the hut. "What the fuck are we gonna do?" I said. "Well, let's get on line at least," said Michelle. "Maybe Belt Parkway will be fun." "It's a good trail, but not all day." Our group of eight headed for the summit triple chair. We were quiet. Luke and Debbie paired off first, and then Kevin, Michelle and I tripled up. Mike got on line with his sister Val and Tonya. We leaned on our poles, silently venting our frustrations. I needed to come up with a plan to ditch Mike. We were on the chair fairly quick. "Alright this is the deal," I said as soon as the bar was down. "I figger the only way we will get caught if we are not skiing on Belt Parkway is if we crash and a ski patrol stops to see if we are O.K. So we ski where we want, and don't take a bad fall and break your leg or something." "Yeah, that's what I was thinking," said Kevin. "Besides, who gives a shit. I've never even seen them looking at tickets in all my years of skiing." "Well, I'm for it," said Michelle. "O.K. I also got a plan to ditch dick boy," I continued. "We start a race for the bottom on Belt Parkway. Let him take off, along with whoever follows. I mean, keep up and pretend you're in it, but stay behind. Then, Kev, we take Way Out, and head down to Hunter West. After Way Out, there is no way to get to Hunter West from the Belt, even if he looks back and sees us turning off. Unless he either climbs back up the hill, by which point we'll be long gone down our slope, or he comes back down here and goes up the lift again. We'll definitely lose him. Michelle, you need to stay behind so you don't pass it." It was a foolproof plan. Somehow I needed to tell Luke, so he could join us, but it would have to wait until the summit. At the top of the summit chair, there are several choices one can take: a trail straight ahead from the lift landing leads to the top of Hunter West, which is the expert side of the mountain. If you go to the left that leads to Upper K27 which is actually not part of Hunter West, even though it is a hard trail. If you double back under the lift, you head for the main section of the mountain. A small slope there leads to a three-way fork: to the right is the feeder trail to Hellgate. Straight-ahead leads to the Cliff, another single-diamond trail. A turn to the left brings you to the head of Belt Parkway. Once you get on Belt Parkway, the only way to get off is to ski it for about 1000 feet, curve to the right, and meet the start of Way Out, which is a single diamond trail leading to Hunter West. After that turn-off, Belt Parkway is isolated, leading only to the Battery down by the main lodge. We discussed the details of the plan on the way up, starting to feel good about the day again. It was 11:10 when we reached the summit. I hurriedly skied to Luke and relayed our plan to ditch Mike. "His sister is here, though, Rob," said Deb. "Well, she can make her choice at the time," I said, a bit coldly. I like Val, but not that much that I wouldn't ditch her too if that's what it took to lose Mike. Speaking of which, Mike pulled up with his sister and Tonya. "Alright, let's race!" I said when we were all ready. "First one down to the lift line wins it!" I pushed off, and sure enough Mike lunged out past me and into the lead. He was strong, and soon had a good ten ski lengths on the rest of us before we even reached the top of Belt. I pushed on, but not too much. Michelle stayed back. Fortunately Tonya and Val were in the back. I lost sight of Mike as he entered Belt Parkway momentarily, and then saw him again as I rounded the turn myself. Kevin passed me, tucked down. Mike was looking back, and then he crouched again. So far so good. We picked up speed as Belt started to fall away before us. The big right hand turn was crowded ahead, so I slowed up. Mike busted through the scattered people who were awkwardly making their way down the hill, and rounded the turn. Kevin followed. I looked back. Michelle was on my heels, Luke next to her, and the three girls were a bit behind. I rounded the bend. The sign for Way Out was in the distance, and to my great joy, Mike zoomed passed it, leaving a small trail of snow mist. I let up just a bit. Kev was still barreling down, and for a few seconds I was worried he had forgotten the plan. Suddenly he veered to his left, and sailed over the lip that was the start of Way Out. I saw him fly out over the top, airborne, and then drop out of sight. If I knew Kevin, the race was still very much on, except it was to the bottom of Hunter West! I was approaching the trail turn-off fast. I looked back, and waved to Michelle. She pointed at the trail sign with her pole, indicating that she saw it. I tucked down, and broadly arced to my left, zipping a few feet from a couple of old men standing around. "Comin' thru," I let out as I whooshed by. The lip approached; you could not see the trail past it, and for a moment I hoped there was nothing over the edge of the lip in my way. I tucked down, and blasted over the lip, and Way Out suddenly appeared, dropping from under me for a few seconds, and then coming back up to meet me as I landed the jump. Kevin was ahead, almost flying. Way Out had a steep, smooth top-slope, and I was suddenly going as fast as wind resistance would allow. I peered behind briefly. Michelle, Luke and Debbie were over the lip, thankfully. I saw Tonya and Val pulling to a stop at the top of the lip, probably debating which way to go. Whatever, I thought, and concentrated fully on the race now, even though it would be tough to catch Kevin. I reached the bottom of the steepest part of the slope with tremendous speed. I hoped I wouldn't catch a rut and go flying to my death, but the adrenaline kept me from slowing up. Up ahead, Kevin was essing around groups of people. Good, that'll slow him a bit. I saw an open channel on the left edge of the trail, and zagged over to the left, blowing by the small groups of skiers. I was indeed gaining on Kevin, to my surprise. Another steep section emptied out into the bottom part of Clair's Way, a double diamond trail that leads down from the summit. I looked down the slope, and thankfully there were plenty of large moguls ahead. Sure enough, Kevin slowed and began to navigate the large bumps. I kept maximum velocity until last second, and then slowed suddenly and entered the field of humps. I had shorter skis, and moguls were my strength, while Kevin's longer skis usually won him the flat races. I was not far behind now, and at the risk of losing some time, I carved across the slope to what looked like a better set of bumps, angling through the valleys between the large moguls. Kevin caught the edge of his ski on a bump, and was briefly turned around, but was quickly on his way again. That inspired me, and I cut downhill. I was doing well, until I ran out of room at one bump, and it was either crash or go over it. I went over. Airborne, I looked for a landing spot, and with nothing good, landed on the upslope of the next bump with a jarring shock to my knees. "Shit." I turned and avoided the crest though, and got back into the pattern. I was even with Kevin, to his left. He looked over, and doubled his efforts. The moguls flattened out as the trail hit its last steep section before bottoming out at the lift line, which was now in sight. I had a few ski lengths on him when we dipped into the last slope. I tucked in, peeking to my right. Kevin was gaining again. It was close. We sped down the hill as it bottomed out. I looked over, and he was looking at me. It was even. We raised up, and skidded to a stop with a fine spray of mist. "Jesus," he breathed, "that was a good one. I think it was a tie." "Yeah. I was burnin' at the top of Way Out, and I didn't go into it like you did. You musta been flying." "Yeah, I was kicking some ass. I landed on one foot, and barely held the landing, but once I was down, I was creamin'. Those people there slowed me up or you would never have seen me." He was breathing hard, as was I. We looked up the hill. Luke was just descending the last hill, but he was straight up, not racing. Michelle was close behind. "Well, we lost'm," I said. "Yeah, none too soon, either." "I knew he'd take that bait. Mike is more competitive than rats in a sinking ship." "What about Val and Tonya? Mike's a dick, but I wouldn't mind skiing with Tonya at all." "Oh yeah? Some interest going on there?" "Sure. With tits like hers, there's always interest," he said. I laughed. Luke pulled to a stop by us. "Alright! That was a good run. I guess we lost Mike. He's gonna be pissed at us." "Nah," I dismissed. "I said first one to the bottom, but never which bottom. I'll just tell him we had agreed on this bottom and he missed it." "O.K. It doesn't matter much anyway, we probably won't see him until four thirty." We laughed as Michelle pulled up. "What?" she asked. "Did I look funny?" "Yeah," said Kevin. "When you wiped out." "I didn't wipe out." "We were just talking about Mike," I said. "What about him." she said dryly. "He's probably standing at the triple chair now wondering where the hell we are. If he hadn't been such an asshole earlier, I'd probably feel bad." "He'll figure it out soon enough," I said. "Did Tonya and Val follow him?" "I don't know. They were standing at the top for a while." "There they are," said Luke, pointing with his pole. The two of them and Debbie were making their way down the last hill. "Well, I guess Mike's on his own." "I bet Val and Tonya will want to look for him later, though," said Luke. "Well, whatever. I ain't waiting for him," said Kevin. He pushed off and got on line. We followed as the three girls pulled up. "Hey, so where's Mike?" asked Val. "I don't know," said Luke, feigning ignorance. "Bullshit, you guys ditched him," said Tonya. I felt a little bad inside. "He kept going down Belt, and the race was to here. He must have not heard." "That's funny, cause I didn't hear that either," said Val. She didn't look mad, and was smiling a bit, actually. "Well, he ain't here now, so let's go." Hunter West ends here at this chair lift. The base is on the west face of the mountain, separate from the main lodge, so to leave Hunter West you need to take the chair lift up, and then ski down the main mountain. Conversely, to get to this lift from the main lodge, you need to ride to the summit and ski one of the expert trails leading down here, of which Way Out is the easiest, and Way Out is a steep one. All this makes for very uncrowded lines on Hunter West and soon we were on the lift. As we were getting on, Luke lit up a smoke, and offered me one. "You know I don't smoke when I ski." Kevin took one, lit up and hopped on a chair alone. I got on with Michelle next. Luke and Debbie were after us and Val and Tonya last. "Do you smoke?" asked Michelle. "Not when I ski," I replied. "What about normally?" "No. Rarely." "Why not when you ski?" "I had a bad experience." "What was that?" "I was skiing with Luke, about three years ago. I was in seventh grade I guess, and he was in eighth. Our families were at my dad's house up here, and Luke had brought some cigarettes. I had never tried any, and I don't think he had either. We went out back into the woods one night and smoked a few. They were goddamn Marlboros, red ones, strong, you know. "It wasn't bad. I thought I would be coughing forever from all you hear and see from parents and shit, but I didn't cough at all, it just felt like my throat was a little gagged. But I got used to it pretty quick, and we smoked some and hung out. "The next day we were at Windham Mountain, about 20 minutes north of here. Luke had brought the butts again, and after lunch we were on one chair lift going up to the hard section. We lit up again, and smoked a couple each. He also had some chewing tobacco." "Nasty," offered Michelle. "No shit. So near the top we packed in some of this foul weed. I was already lightheaded from the cigs, and this stuff really made it bad. It tasted like dirty hell, too. We got off and headed down some trail, double diamond with big bumps, sorta like Clair's Way here," I said, pointing at the trail under us. "I had trouble focusing on the moguls because I was so lightheaded. All was going well," I continued, "sort off, until I hit a bump and the wad jumped into my windpipe. I started coughing, and I landed on another bump, and flew off that, well beyond control. I got some serious air. I landed on a strip of ice - it was a sheet - and my legs landed first and took off, leaving my head to fall onto the ice." Michelle let out a painful hiss, and winced. "I hit the back of it, and was pretty woozy for a bit. I was freaked out about the chewing tobacco, and I vaguely remember spitting it out and throwing it across the trail. I was really dizzy, and my head hurt. Luke came up, and helped me up. My head was bleeding a little, and I think I passed out, but I was still awake too. It was like a bad dream." "Were you alright?" "Not really. A ski patrol came by about two minutes later and stopped. Anyway, they called down a stretcher, because they wanted to make sure it wasn't a concussion or some shit like that." "Damn. That's freaky." "They took me down, and the fuckin' sleigh ride was fast, and I was really dizzy, I thought I was gonna puke. Finally we got to the hut, and they looked at it, put on a bandage. By that time I was feeling good, except some pain in the neck, but I knew I was not hurt, so they let me go. I was alright, anyway, but it was fucked up." "Sounds like. I once broke my leg skiing." "Really? That must have sucked." "Yeah. This asshole plowed into me and sent me flying down the trail. Some how my ski didn't let off and twisted around. It was a rental ski. My dad was pissed, because the binding wasn't set right for my weight or something, so it didn't go off. He never rented skis for me again, and bought me my own, so at least that was one good thing to come out of it." "How long were you in a cast for?" "A couple of months till I was off the crutches and walking." "Jeez. That would blow a season." "Yeah. I got a lot of rest though, so it wasn't as bad as it sounds." "Hmmmm…" We sat in silence for a bit watching skiers below us. A pretty girl with long dark hair lost control and splatted into a mound of snow, losing poles and skis. She seemed to be all right though. "There was a wipeout," I said. "Yeah. I hate falling. It freaks me out. Trouble is, I like to go fast and ski hard stuff." "Yeah me too," I agreed. "Not to be all big or anything, but I have not fallen in a while, thankfully." "Me neither. I've had some close ones, and a few minor trip-ups, but no speedy wipeouts." The now snow-covered girl was brushing herself clean. Two guys were gathering her things, one ski having slid down a good distance before being stopped by another skier. "At least people will help you get back up though." "Yeah," I agreed. "I'll never forget the first time I tackled a black diamond slope. It was fairly steep, but no moguls. My uncle, who's a huge dude, took Luke and me up there. We were probably about nine. He brought us to the top of this thing, and then said "bye" and sped down the hill, straight down it. He left only two parallel lines in the snow. "We were shitting. We had been skiing for a few years, and weren't bad, but this was a pretty steep hill. It was about like the top of Way Out, maybe a little less. Actually it was probably a lot less and time has just made it a lot steeper." "I know what you mean," said Michelle, laughing. "Anyway, we started down. We mostly slid down, skiing to the side 'til we reached the trees, then gingerly turning, and skiing back across, making our way down real slow. "We got down pretty easily that way, and man, were we pumped! We burned down the rest of the mountain, having conquered our first diamond hill. We were high as hell." "That's funny." "Wait. It's not over yet. We went back to the top of this hill again. It looked less steep now that we had been on it. We were feeling all big, so we set off down the hill, more aggressively. Quite a goddamn bit more aggressively!! We probably went about twenty feet before we slipped on some ice and fell. Nearly at the same time. Both our skis fell off, and I watched in horror as one of mine turned slowly downhill, and sped off, kicking up a spray of snow as the slide guards dug in. The hill was so steep that the ski wouldn't stop, and it went all the way to the bottom! I was pissed. Luke's skis suffered similar fates. A minute later a few guys appeared, and helped us gather our poles, but couldn't do much for our skis. "Needless to say, we slid down on our asses the whole way, zigzagging across the mountain to collect each ski where it had finally stopped. It was a good lesson, though." "That's very funny," said Michelle, looking at me. I looked her in the eyes. They were beautiful. I stared at her for a few seconds, not feeling awkward any more. She smiled. "You and Luke are pretty good friends," she stated. "Yeah, we grew up together. He is practically my brother." "Do you have any brothers, or sisters?" "Yeah, one brother, younger." "Only child," she answered my unasked question. "Mm-hm." "So what trail do we do now?" she asked. "I guess this one here. Doesn't look like Westway is open," I said, pointing to our right. "This one looks interesting," she said, eyeing the dense mogul field below us. "It is." END OF PART 3 - Look for parts 1, 2 and 4 separately Copyright 1998 by Robert Kraft -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----