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(Page 4 of 18) Martian Summer: Comet Night by Stuart Atkinson
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Like many "Gaters", he had supplemented his meagre income as a hydro-engineer by acting as a Guide, and led several parties of bushy-tailed sightseers up the Trail every week, ensuring that they actually followed in the rover's tracks and didn't just wander off on their own, which would mean, at best, missing the things they had come so far to see and, at worst, getting lost altogether. Many of the Guides earned good "top up" money from the tourists, but eventually, and inevitably, Mars Heritage – rightly concerned that such a historic site was being spoiled by the unrestricted stomping feet of so many people - had declared the Columbias a Martian Preservation Park, then plotted and marked-out the rover's route properly, placing diamond-laminated plaques on all the major landmarks along the route to the top of the Hill. After that, all anyone who wanted to follow The Trail had to do was to leave their rover in the big car park at the bottom of the Spur then follow the plaques to the summit.
It was a huge success. But almost overnight the skills and services of the "Gate Guides" were rendered obsolete.
Except for those who had spent years faithfully and lovingly learning The Trail, who knew it inside out. Yes, it was true, anyone could follow The Trail for free now, could stand on the summit of Husband Hill and have their photo taken standing beside the full size model of Spirit that stood there, but for a modest fee guides like Sarah's
father would take them to the summit personally, leading them to the well-known landmarks such as Larry's Lookout, Methuselah, Clovis and Ebenezer, but also making sure they saw the harder-to-find things along the way they'd miss walking on their own.
After spending years wandering the slopes, tracking down the places visited and explored by Spirit, her father knew the precise locations of each "Ratted Rock" – a rock with a faded circle of polished stone where Spirit's wire-brush "RAT" had scoured and cleaned them. He showed his tour parties the very ledge where the rover had taken its famous "Sunset" photo. At the end of the tour he even led them to the exact place where Spirit had taken its famous "Everest Panorama", and took their pictures standing there, with the Thira Hills behind them and, if they were lucky, a dust devil or two peeking over their shoulder.
Sarah knew her father was good, if not the best, and although his services didn't come cheaply all his clients agreed afterwards it had been well worth the price, and word of mouth recommendation meant that while most of the other Guides rarely climbed the Hill more than once a month her father took people to the summit every few days.
Then, one day, he took her up the Hill instead of paying customers, and everything changed for Sarah, and standing there, on the very same spot where Spirit itself had once rested after its own epic climb from the crater floor, she had gazed down on the settlement and seen it, for the first time, as it truly was: a frontier town, on the very edge of the human expansion across the face of Mars, a tiny, stubborn oasis of air, plants and water – of life - in the centre of a vast sea of dry, choking dust and cold, jagged rock.
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