rock bolt slider
The mountains were apparently without end, even our eyes could hardly seem to contain their girth. As a large semi passed, the truck began rocking as though the earth was being rend, even the child beside me was uneasy at the bouncing. She was small, hardly bigger than the handle by which she clung. The road before us was hundred of miles in either direction.
As the truck passed we smiled, the red and white paint was chipped and scratched. The rims attached to the wheels were filthy. I glanced over at my child, she began to open her mouth but I muttered a warning. It was difficult to get her to be patient, she had not eaten for some time. Even as she began to pout, I smiled.
“Just a few more seconds, okay baby?” I whispered in her ear. Her enormous eyes glared at me. We had been here for what seemed to be forever, and even my patience was beginning to wain.
“Whatever, we should still be able to do something in the meantime, It was right there!” she growled at me "I could have eaten How long do we have to wait? How much longer do I have to sit and count the trees?”
Her impatience was beginning to wear on my nerves. Looking forward, I spotted a nissan maxima, the paint was a diseased green and well maintained, obviously an out of stater. Looking at my daughter “Ah, but we must get you a proper meal, mustn't we? We can't have you eating just anything, be patient young one, we don`t want you to get sick, and look here, there is a perfectly good dinner!”
Both of us released our clasps, sliding from our seats, the mountain below was warm. Even the food seemed a little less tough. Although the metal plates kind of altered the taste. I personally preferred the old days when the meal would be served in a bed of wood. But those were when i was young, and the food wasn't cooked.
Then began the long climb up the mountain, our tails straining to drag my two-ton body. We smirked as the path below was cleared by men. Of course, the disappearances would be tied to the rock slide and the rock slide to the rain. She sat back down, her clasps clicking into the crevice, the trees before us had been felled by the lumberjacks long ago, making the trip down far easier, although we did have a plate at the bottom of our mouths for this exact purpose, it still sucked to hit an oak at thirty miles an hour.
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