You take the flesh path winding downward. It gets narrower again, and this time there's no metal pieces forcing it back; it closes close enough that for a while it seems like it might close completely in a dead end, pressing in tight and warm and slightly moist around you.

But it continues to stay just around the size for your shoulders to brush it on either side, and eventually it reaches a pucker out of which some long white hair is hanging, maybe four feet long.