The Mountain Descent

I was dropped off at the summit four months ago.

Climbing down was not as difficult as I thought. There were paths carved into the mountainside, winding to and fro. The air was thin, of course, but my oxygen mask took care of that.

By the time I reached the forest near the base of the mountain, I could breathe normally without the mask. I could tell it wasn't a natural forest. All the trees were evenly spaced and they were all the same species of giant oak. Obviously a plantation. I set up camp beside a stream.

There was no wildlife to speak of, even at this altitude. The occasional insect.

I set off for the final leg of my trek. The forest began to thin, allowing the faint sunlight to penetrate the leafy canopy. Here, near the base, hunters’ lodges were easy to find. I caught up on lost sleep.

I spotted the old dirt road in the distance. The red car. My driver still waiting patiently.
Kicking the red dust off my boots, I climbed in, exhausted.

“Did you have a pleasant trip ma’am?” the driver asked in a not-quite-human voice.
“It was an experience”, I replied.

He looked at me and smiled.

“Everyone says that about Olympus Mons”