From 127 Hours: Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Aron Ralston
, I come to another drop-off. This one is maybe eleven or twelve feet high, a foot higher and of a
different geometry than the overhang I descended ten minutes ago. Another refrigerator chockstone is
wedged between the walls, ten feet downstream from and at the same height as the ledge. It gives the
space below the drop-off the claustrophobic feel of a short tunnel. Instead of the walls widening after
the drop-off, or opening into a bowl at the bottom of the canyon, here the slot narrows to a consistent
three feet across at the lip of the drop-off and continues at that width for fifty feet down the canyon.
, I come to another drop-off. This one is maybe eleven or twelve feet high, a foot higher and of a
different geometry than the overhang I descended ten minutes ago. Another refrigerator chockstone is
wedged between the walls, ten feet downstream from and at the same height as the ledge. It gives the
space below the drop-off the claustrophobic feel of a short tunnel. Instead of the walls widening after
the drop-off, or opening into a bowl at the bottom of the canyon, here the slot narrows to a consistent
three feet across at the lip of the drop-off and continues at that width for fifty feet down the canyon.
