The night before, I’d had a restless sleep trying to think of ways we could attain the height we’d need. Carrying a ladder up to the side of the building was out of the question; we couldn’t be seen carrying construction equipment up to a no-trespassing site. As we drove away from home in the morning we’d stopped at Home Despot and bought two things: a fire escape ladder and a length of rope. Now we used them both.
I longed for a bat-utility belt with a little bat-boomerang I could shoot up to the window and have it wrap around some upright conveniently located just inside the window. Using the fire escape ladder was a good idea, but we’d still need to get it up there. How?
Nothing about the entry was easy. Not one thing. Straining to get up the tree, muscles seized and limbs trembled. Finally at the window’s height, there was nothing to grab onto – the sill too smooth and deep with no lip on the inside. I handed the ladder up to her, hoping she could hook it on the window, but the ledge’s depth made it almost impossible. Her determination won out, though, and somehow she made the ladder work for her top two steps away from the tree and into the building.
The window was too small, she couldn’t fit through, but she was kneeling on the very wide ledge. Finally. A little more space made and she was inside.
I climbed up as she held the escape ladder in place then we used the rope to pull up all our equipment. Our third person made it up the ladder, although she definitely was not amused. Finally we were all inside. We pulled the ladder up after us and erased all outward evidence of our entry.
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2 comments:
You have captured what went on entry wise perfectly. Except maybe how funny it was (well it's funny now I've stopped hurting and you've stopped worrying that I'd get hurt). Imagine being an onlooker and watching us. How hilarious would it have been to view 3 "middle-aged women" (to quote you, -- I'm not yet comfortable with that term -- I will never be middle aged as I don't know how long I will live -- I could be a 1/4 aged for all I know), climbing into a barred up building with a fire ladder, and a fire ladder that would not do what it was purchased to do. I would love to see it from that view, particularly when the ladder unfurled and clanged it's way down the wall announcing to anyone within a mile radius that something untoward was about to occur at the mill. The look on my face must have been priceless. I will be forever grateful the town has, obviously, lost interest in its somewhat famous mill. Our third person was certainly not amused with our unstealth-like behavior.
Thank you for this blog it's fun. If only we had more time to do more exploring and photo taking all would be well with the world.
Oh man, you capture it perfectly too!!
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