Rigging the Cable

The zinc washer had kept the draft out all night. I checked the small white figure first, adjusting the leather band around its torso before cinching the harness tight against my back. Leaving the recess required climbing a steep rise of damp root systems. Halfway up, a discarded braided copper ground wire dangled from an old sprinkler head, frayed at both ends. I caught the loose weave with my left hand, planted my boots against the stone pedestal, and gave two sharp yanks to test the tension. It held stiff. With both hands gripping the braided copper, I pulled our weight smoothly onto the rim.