The decision was made to return the young man to his home and to rethink our plans for the journey. The only way out of the small bay area was straight up nearly two hundred feet of glass wall, but fortunately, the going was not too bad and, in less than an hour, I had helped the Jessa to the top of the wall with the others close behind.
We all carried as much gear as we could. The Jessa had just put down her pack and turned to survey the area from her new height. I was reaching down to give Ho Camov a hand when I heard the Jessa scream, "Master, come look. What is it?"
I scrambled to the top of the cliff and looked down the other side. I could not believe my eyes. I was looking down at a super highway, one that would rival the L.A. freeway. It was eight lanes wide and ran for miles in both directions. But there was something wrong. There were no vehicles of any kind on the road, and I could see that there had been none for a long, long time.
The age of the pavement in the ancient highway was clearly revealed by large cracks and splits in the lanes. Weeds and trees grew in abundance in what was once a main dividing section. In places, trees had sprung up through the cracks in the pavement and towered high above the ancient highway.
The line of least resistance is always the easiest to travel. Since the boy had indicated the direction of our destination lay to the northwest, the same direction the highway ran, the road was our logical choice. As we traveled, the young man said little, only that his father would reward us handsomely for his return.
After two days of travel, we came to the end of the ancient highway. It stopped abruptly in a wall of rubble and rock, which rose up a hundred feet or so. At the top of this wall, we encountered dense jungle growth, which made our way considerably harder to travel.