In The Virginity Mission, Mac has a day of hell where she has to rock-hop along a creek.
Extract from The Virginity Mission:
Rock-hopping is exactly how it sounds. We jump from rock to rock along the creek. I’ve never done this. I’ve walked around rock platforms at the beach, with my parents telling me to be careful and to not hurt myself, but I’ve never rock-hopped. After a few rocks, it becomes abundantly clear that I’m no rock-hopper. Everyone hops happily past me, while I quiver and tentatively step from one rock to the next until I give in and wade.
This is new and rattles me. Why can’t I rock-hop?
The rocks become larger and further and further apart. The creek is filled with smaller rocks. I can no longer wade. I have to jump from large rock to large rock. I set myself up for the first jump. My legs become jelly snakes dangling uselessly from my body. My knees are shuddering pieces of flesh, useless to hold me up, much less catch my weight when I land. My stomach takes a nose dive to someplace as low as it can go.
This is ridiculous. I have to move. I steel myself to jump. I call myself all manner of names. I tighten up my jelly snake legs and then Ed’s hand extends towards me. I hadn’t noticed him come back for me.
“Problem, Mac?” he asks.
“Just my knees.” I try to sound flippant but it comes out as a shaky whisper.
and then a little later:
“You have to have faith in your feet, Mac.” I nod and he goes on ahead, leaving me alone to leap and think.
This question of my lack of confidence has come up again. First Jason. Now Ed. I didn’t realise there was a problem.
When I read my diary, there were many many days spent rock hopping and I never did learn to enjoy it.
Here's some of the extracts from my diary:
Did quite a bit of horrific rock hopping. I guess I have to trust my feet more because there will be heaps more.
Heaps of bloody rock hopping again, and hills to climb. We crossed the river at one point and I swear the jump was about 2m wide. [two of the guys] have been fantastic pushing me along, pulling me up/across/along. I know I've only got to trust my feet but it's so bloody difficult to "fly" across rocks.
...my spirits were failing badly. I was ready to sit down, bawl my eyes out and ditch out of the big trip. Then [one of the guys] coaxed me along, built up my courage a bit with heaps of encouragement and then we hit a good swimming spot.
I thought I'd made Mac unlike me... but looks like I snuck in there a bit too much! And I'm ashamed to say it, but Mac seems a lot braver than I was!