//------------------------------// // Climbing and Sailing // Story: Of Hooves and History // by Ahmad J Charles //------------------------------// The warm glow of the afternoon beamed across the ocean as I opened my toolkit to begin disassembling the bike. It was basic wrench-work, but Sunny was fascinated. “Why are there so many different screw styles?” “How does the metal clamp not bend enough to break?” “Love the intricacy of these gears!” I had to hold my smile; she was just so cute being all inquisitive about machinery. “Different screw styles – ‘heads’ is what they’re called – for different purposes. I’ll just be taking off the handlebars and seat so this fits through the portal. If not, I’ll simply have to remove the front wheel.” Sunny kept all the bolts and pieces in a neat pile while I hopped onto the sub’s hull, pulled out my key, and unlocked the hatch. With a hard push of the external seal lever, it sprung open. I lifted the lid and slid the bike through the portal, only for the top of the fork to clip the edge. “Bugger. Maybe if I adjust the suspension…” I rested the bike on the hull, told Sunny to watch over it, and quickly descended down the ladder into the sub. In a cabinet, I pulled out a shock pump and carefully climbed back up as the sub rocked about ever so slightly in the waves. Carrying bike and pump back to shore, I stood over the bike and applied adequate pressure, then re-calibrated the fork sag to the lowest possible setting. I lifted the hatch, raised the bike, and eased it into the portal. With a bit of wiggling, it slid through to the bottom. “Awesome!” Sunny clapped. I put the tools and parts back into their bag, then lowered my backpack, the skateboard, then the suitcase, down into the sub. “Wait here,” I told Sunny as she excitedly hopped up onto the rocks. “I need to check on things.” In the sub, I put the bike, suitcase, and backpack in their storage areas, out of harm’s way, before plopping down in the pilot’s seat and throwing a few switches. The engine hummed and grumbled awake, startling Sunny. The instrument panel gradually it up, and the screens blinked on. But my candle of joy was blown out a second later as I took note of the power readings: 60% fuel. I really needed to preserve this for any critical emergency usage in the future. Yet the battery reading showed a level of 100%. "What the – that’s impossible! It was barely half upon arrival!” I sputtered in shock, before shrugging. No complaints about more power. “You can come down, Sunny!” I called up. The hatch opened, and the eager orange pony stepped through. I guided her hooves to the ladder and she gradually descended down into the main chamber. The moment her hooves touched the floor, she curiously peered at literally everything in sight. “Is this what it feels like to be a school chaperone, or a father?” was a question burning through the back of my skull as I gave her a brief tour of everything in the sub – the hammock, the storage compartments, and the control panel. “Who made this submarine?” “My dad and I, together,” I said proudly. “It took a long time, but it was worth it. One last thing – the anchoring. Time to break free!” I rushed back up the portal and released the mooring ropes, coiling them up and untying them from the sub. Immediately the sub started rocking about and floating away, nearly knocking me off balance. Grabbing a handle on the hatch lid, I swung myself over the edge, sealed the hatch, and climbed back down, expecting Sunny to be in the pilot’s seat, but she was just sitting calmly beside it like a big puppy. “Let the journey commence,” I announced, strapping myself in and gently easing the throttle. With a brief jitter, the propeller whirred, and slowly started to move. I yanked the rudder lever hard, and it veered to the left, just barely clipping the anchor rock. The water looked a little mesmerizing, albeit dizzy as we turned a tight circle. Now that the sub was facing the cove’s mouth, I decided it was time for some fun, and stepped out of the seat. “Your turn, Sunny.” “B-but I –” “It’s okay, I’ll show you,” I said reassuringly, as she clambered into the seat. I pulled a small lever and pushed the seat forward – just like in a car. “Now you don’t need to stretch so much to reach the buttons and levers. Let’s start with the rudder – it’s how you steer,” I explained, pointing to a large black ball-headed lever in front of her. “Pull it to the left a little, and gently press the lever on your right a bit too.” Sunny did as she was told, and her face lit up as she noticed the blue world around us move past at a steady pace while shifting to the left. “Now we need to align ourselves with the exit, so pull back the opposite way – watch this little circle too,” I instructed, pointing to a small gauge with the letters RUDDER ANGLE on it. Sunny seemed to be a quick learner, and got the sub back to its original position in seconds. I then went on to explain the stabilizers and how they helped in rough seas, but warned her not to touch their controls. With a little more throttle, we reached a steady cruising speed of six knots. “From the parking lot to the main road,” I chuckled as we passed through the cove’s mouth and into the main sea. “Might get some cross-winds here – hold tight!” I felt the sub roll a little, but it swung the other way. The high pressure caused the sub to bob up and down, jostling us like a drunk puppeteer. “More throttle!” I ordered, and Sunny pushed the lever down hard. The engine roared as we surged forward, leaning to the right as she gently pushed the rudder. I lunged for the stabilizers to avoid any excess roll as we turned at fifteen knots. “Woah, that was fun!” Sunny exclaimed, a happy grin across her face. “It was risky,” I warned. “Risky, but fun too. Shall we dive?” “I like it on the surface, it’s nice and bright.” “Alrighty matey. Surface it shall be,” I said in a mock Australian accent, as she hopped out of the seat. “You can sit beside me, or stand in the portal.” Sunny chose the latter, and so it was – a young traveler at the helm of his submarine and a novice seafaring pony in the portal, enjoying the endless wide horizon, soft sea spray, fresh salty breeze on a northbound journey by the western coastline. As the early evening started to roll in, we approached the western-most tip of the coastline – a curve inlet. Barely visible on the horizon inland were tall trees in a large cluster – a forest indeed. “We have arrived! Land ahoy!” Sunny crowed, before jumping down the portal with a thud that nearly shook me out of my seat. I pulled out the periscope and swiveled it about, soon noticing the curve that I’d seen on the map in Argyle’s study. “Are we gonna have to climb cliffs again?” Sunny groaned, peering up at the rocks and tall thin grass. “Hopefully just a couple of meters this time,” I replied with a grin. “Let’s dock.” I climbed up, holding the mooring rope with an anchor while Sunny gently steered towards the cliff, tweaking the speed a little bit each time. The anchor locked up just in time, and we gently bumped against the rock face. I shimmied down the portal and cut the engine, before pulling out even more rope and climbing equipment, and threw on my backpack. An immeasurable amount of disappointment was all over Sunny’s face as we climbed out and stared up at the rock wall before us. This time, however, it was sloped with compressed layers of rock, and ascended for only about six to ten meters before giving way to tall grass and bushes. “Hmmm,” I murmured, staring intensely at the cliff face and its structure, noting a tree right by the edge. “I could free-climb this, but you’d need a rope.” Sunny simply nodded, and I fastened a grappling hook to one end of the rope and, whirling it like a cowboy, threw it straight towards the tree. It took a good ten tries, but I finally hooked it around a main branch. Next, I secured the other end to the sub and clipped another line to her carabine and fixated it to an anchor bolt. “I’ll climb up halfway and implant this into the rock,” I explained, holding up the anchor. “This will be your safety catch, should you ever lose grip. The other rope attached to the tree will be to pull yourself up. Watch for any falling debris and dodge them. Wait for my signal.” “Understood, Aiden.” I swapped shoes and taped up my hands before dusting them in powder to increase grip, and lunged for a large, sturdy ledge in the cliff face. To my amazement, it held. What didn’t hold so well was my arm, and I felt a shooting sprain-like pain as my body weight sagged from the single-handed grip. I raised a foot and latched onto the surface, before reaching up for another gap in the rock face. And another. My arm was sore and painful, but I had a mission to complete for my friend – and I wasn’t about to quit now. Four meters up the seventy-degree incline, I found a small crack to insert the anchor in. I squeezed it through, spun the screw thread, and added some fast-setting putty to hold it tight. After ten minutes, I clipped the rope to it and flashed a thumbs-up to Sunny, who began ascending. It appeared she started taking cues from me, as I noticed her usage of her hoof tips like a broad, flat claw to grip the rock face. What was astounding was how she used her molar teeth to grip the guide rope when her forelegs got a little tired. “You okay?” I called down, as her back legs slid out and her body swayed sideways. “Yewwwh, I’hm fiwhn!” she mouthed through the rope, before spitting it out and holding it against the cliff face with a forehoof. “Just tired and sore.” “I… thought you Earth ponies were super-strong and all that,” I joked, catching my own breath for a minute. “Not with… ugh! Climbing cliffs,” Sunny panted. “Damn. Well, as long as your hind legs can bend a little, you should be fine for a quick rest.” I glanced over at the sub, which was gently bobbing in the small waves below us. It shouldn’t be that hard to get back down there. Ten minutes later, Sunny and I resumed climbing. The poor pony was clearly ill-equipped for this activity and was clearly struggling. Yet, she didn’t give up. Even through the pearls of sweat oozing from her pretty mane, her face was one of sheer willpower. And I loved it. “Keep it up, Sunny! You’re almost there!” I called out encouragingly, my own hands just a few feet from the grassy area by the base of the tree. “Bmminn ufhwp!” she mumbled through the rope in her mouth. With a few more pulls and pushes, I eased myself up onto the grassy ground and sat down to rest, my droopy eyes watching over Sunny’s climbing carefully. Her limbs were quivering and her head looked a bit dizzy, but she was still moving upwards. Twice a hoof slipped, but she re-gained orientation and hooked it on a teeny ledge. Fifteen excruciating minutes later, she hurled her body up onto the grassy patch of earth beside me and flopped down, completely passed out from energy depletion. “Aaaaand I forgot to bring a water bottle,” I gasped. “But I do have something in my pocket, Sunny. Here.” I fished out two energy bars, and we gobbled them up in the warm glow of the setting sun.