Young man on whom I based “Loren from Paris” in THE CANYON CRAWL novel. In real life, he’s from Luxembourg. He darted through the Canyon popping up everywhere we went. His dexterity and agility were unfathomable to us. But having hiked in the Alps myself, I should have not been surprised.
Loren basking in cold sunlight on the beach. He’d run up and check on us, then run back down to the Colorado, then run back up and check on us. The day was young but Jeff and I were in slo-mo already. Our foot-lifts felt like concrete.
We were hustling with determination up to Indian Garden. Our mission was to make the South Rim that night, no matter what. What we didn’t know at the time — at least I didn’t know — an ice storm was barreling down out of the Rockies taking dead aim. Our adventures at Indian Garden would throw everything out of kilter for the rest of the hike. But you’ll have to read about that, in the book.