peered over the edge. To her mind, this bottomless pit was another obstacle that some unseen and bothersome entity kept placing in her questing path. She backed up, then sprang ahead, clearing the crevasse with room to spare. Her uncle followed, and they soon reach a rest stop at the edge of the flow. Each took a seat on a convenient boulder, and eagerly awaited the hot Swiss chocolate mix the guide was pouring from his vacuum bottle. 

Aunt Emma, with a clear soprano voice, and lovely smile, commented, "That was a chore, but worth doing. The view is magnificent, even through these vexing goggles. So I am content that I let you two daredevils talk me into coming."

"Thank you dear," her husband postured with a diplomatic smile.

Mary, with a maturing voice, and a trace of regret in her tone, added, "I enjoyed it, but I think we should go on to the top."

 "Not with me, dear. Perhaps you can talk your uncle into an expedition, though I do not know how we would explain it to your parents."

"Oh phooey, they’re old sticks in the mud. I do not see why you should be content when there is more to do."

Emma, Alfred and even the guide chuckled over Mary’s youthful complaint.

"That is because I know myself and my limitations, dear. You have let to find yours, ... if you have any." She added, looking thoughtfully at her niece. "I just hope you are not hurt too badly in getting to wherever your road takes you Mary."

Mary shrugged, not really wanting to understand her aunt. She twisted her neck around to peer at the top of the mountain. "There," she thought, "is the next stop on a road I shall build for myself."
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