86.) As Lancelot grew older, he imagined himself continuing to walk up and over that Carolina mountain. He would find himself along the edge of a deep canyon. He would dream of crossing to the other side. How would he get there? Would a dirigible of friendly adventurers swoop in and sigh in disappointment as he fruitlessly grasped at the rope ladder they swung to me? Would he actually have to fall to his near-death and laboriously climb back up, only to find that he had clambered back up to where he had started?