Vulnerable and Gorgeous

Vulnerable and Gorgeous

"Cum'on Jenna... stop dragging your ass!"

This was the fourth or fifth time in the last half hour that Carl had offered his style of persuasive motivation to get me to hike at his breakneck speed. This was NOT what I had signed on for!

He'd appeared considerate and affectionate when we'd first met at our local bar. I knew he was a football jock, but his close attention had obviously been designed to deceive me.

We had a great time together that first night and then at a subsequent dinner date. He'd been polite, and I enjoyed most of his conversation about his football abilities. As a result, when he asked me to spend three nights in a cabin in the mountains, I readily accepted. Of course I only accepted, as he explained I would have my own room. Although it was probably his description of us drinking wine by a campfire and roasting marshmallows that finally convinced me.

Naturally I expected there would be some walks in the forest to view the beauty, however nothing he said had prepared me for this Special Forces endurance march.

We'd been hiking at breakneck speed for ten minutes when he eventually confessed that he'd made a bet with a buddy as to who could arrive at Pullen's Peak first. As Carl stridently declared: "I have never lost a bet like this before, and I don't intend to start now. So, get a hurry on!"

I tried to move at his pace, however I quickly realized that his 6 foot 3 inches probably gave him a bit of an advantage. I was proud of my 5 foot 7 inches, however when it involved striding over fallen trees, height was everything. Even Carl indicated he was tiring when he cursed about the path not being clear. Apparently recent storms had felled so many trees the route had been turned into an obstacle course.

We'd been going for almost half an hour before I thought it necessary to ask how much further it would be. When he explained that on a good day it could take four hours, I just shuddered in astonishment. If I'd known what was ahead of us, I would have been better prepared. All I had was a broad brimmed hat and a small water bottle on my belt. My shoes were simply runners which were alright on the track, but Carl had decided to make some short cuts through the trees and bushes. He'd explained that it was necessary to catch up on lost time. Of course his comment was oozing with the implication that the time lost was my fault.

The path took us over several creeks. It was reasonably easy to hop from bolder to bolder, but I learned the hard way that the spray made some of them slippery. As I was already on my bottom, I took the opportunity to fill my now half empty water bottle when Carl remonstrated: "Stop loafing!"

It was late fall so the weather was overcast and quite cool, yet I was perspiring excessively. I'd removed my jacket and tied it around my waist. While I'd also undone several buttons on my shirt to increase the ventilation, I was careful to retain some modesty. I made a mental note to refasten the buttons when we stopped as I was becoming less inclined to provide any visual encouragement for Carl.

In fact, I was now feeling quite pissed off with him! I'd no time to view the scenery. We had no conversation other than his chivvying. I was damn sure I wouldn't get any benefit if he won his stupid bet.

Once again Carl took a short cut off the hiking trail. This time it was over some particularly rough ground. Almost immediately I could tell from his constant scanning that he was uncertain of his location. The dense thicket of spruce also limited his visibility, and I could sense his relief when we suddenly came across an open area near the top of the spur. In the middle of the area were two tents.

On entering the clearing I noticed a bearded guy. He was sitting on a log behind a paint canvass propped on an easel. He'd obviously just begun as he had only an outline of the distant ridges. He seemed to be focused and didn't even turn when Carl said: "Hi."

The response came from a second guy who had been tending their campfire. He stood up and with a welcoming face greeted us with: "Hi folks... where are you headed?"

"Pullen's Peak is the objective. Is that the correct direction?" Carl asked as he pointed seeking confirmation.

"Approximately, but you're well off the trail. You'd find it quicker, and an easier gradient if you stayed on it."

Having caught up I joined them near the fire. The stranger acknowledged me with a welcoming smile. He then added: "You guys look beat. I have just made some coffee. Can I offer you each a mug?"

As I was saying thank you, Carl overrode me dictating: "We're in too much of a hurry to stop... but could you confirm for me where we are on this map?"

The stranger was a nice looking guy with short dark brown hair. He just had a demeanor of easy-going confidence. As he walked past me to look at Carl's map, he handed me his metal mug and gave me a wink. As his intent was clear, I seized the mug with both hands and quickly savored several large mouthfuls of his sweet hot coffee.

"I think we are about here," Carl indicated on his map to the coffee guy. "I left the trail at this point to cut this corner in the track."

"You've gone too far west. You're here. Can you see that bluff to the northwest of us? That is here on the map." Carl had obviously been confused but the coffee guy seemed to sort him out.

As they stood together, I estimated that coffee guy was about 6 foot, maybe 6 foot one. He was slim but this was accentuated by his broad shoulders.

Coffee guy continued: "If you head to the right of that pine there, you'll see a bit of a track we've worn getting water from the creek. That is only about 100 yards away; then if you cross it and travel north for another 150 yards you'll link up with the western track. Follow that northeast for half a mile and you will be back on the main trail."

Having absorbed this information, Carl's manner suddenly changed from appearing confused to showing determination. I knew immediately what he was going to say. "Let's move!" As he noticed the empty coffee mug in my hand, his demeanor transmitted his contempt at my weakness.

I quickly turned to the coffee guy and gave him my most appreciative words of thanks, although it was abruptly shortened as Carl was already striding ahead. As I doubled to catch up, I had a passing thought that I would have been happier staying behind with coffee guy.

It certainly was a relief when we were back on a proper trail. I'd become quite tired stepping high through long grass. As there was no talking, it gave me ample opportunity to reevaluate a few decisions. Firstly, I was determined to finish this hike as I wasn't prepared to accept any more belittling comments from Carl. Secondly, there was no way that I was going to sleep with him.

When I thought of the effort I'd put into grooming my landing strip, I was furious. I kept stewing on my anger as I realized my romantic dreams had allowed me to be deluded again. Perhaps I could channel this anger into the necessary motivation to complete this trek.

Then it happened!

The trail had been descending steeply and the surface rocks were wet from a spring. In order to catch Carl again I'd been taking longer than usual strides when my runners slipped from under me. Suddenly unbalanced, I felt a sharp pain as I attempted aerobatics before tumbling into a bush.

I'm sure that it was only my loud expletive that caught Carl's attention. My right ankle was sore, but what was worse was the indignity of landing on my ass and being tangled in a bush.

"Give us your hand," ordered Carl with obvious impatience. Instinctively I held up my arm. As I was yanked upright, I cried out to his surprise.

"Put me down," I pleaded as I felt my ankle shoot lightening up my leg.

Carl did at least support me before asking: "What's wrong with you Jenna?"

"Just help me to sit down on some dry grass."

Once seated I started rubbing my right leg and testing the ankle. While I was hoping this was just a passing problem, the more I tested the more despondent I became. "I have twisted my ankle."

"It'll be best if you keep walking so it doesn't get cold."

I carefully leaned forward and placing my weight mainly on my left leg, I tentatively stood. Balancing myself and equaling out my weight, my ankle seemed satisfactory, until I took a step. I cautiously made several slow steps assessing what I could do.

As I informed Carl: "I won't be able to walk fast," he rolled his eyes and a bitter look of exasperation appeared on his face. Several steps later I was convinced. "I can't go on at your pace, Carl."

Without even a moment for reflection, he came back with: "Well I have to go on! We've been out for an hour and a half. You'll just have to return the way we came. That should be easy enough."

At that moment I was far from happy with Carl, but I stubbornly decided I would rather not embarrass myself and ask for his help. I was feeling miserable from the pain in my ankle. I was also feeling miserable with myself for not completing the trek. I could only feel worse with Carl reminding me I had let him down.

As I turned to return on the route we'd taken, I knew nothing could have made me feel more wretched. Of course, I was wrong! It then started raining.

---------------------------

A disappointed Nathan wandered over to join me by the fire. "Rob... I can't continue with this bad light. The mountains have lost that lovely shade of bluey green that I need to catch. I'll give it a break for a while until these dark clouds pass."

An hour earlier, the clouds had been a spectacular array of cotton balls catching the western sun. Now as I scrutinized the sky I concluded: "I think that is more than a few passing dark clouds." The towering white clouds had been replaced by a dark heavy layer that was the prelude for an ominous tempest. "I did tell you the weather forecast predicted there was a chance of storms." I didn't quite say 'I told you so', even though Nathan had pooh-poohed the reliability of the National Weather Service.

Nathan was an excellent part-time artist and a disillusioned full-time lawyer. We'd been friends since high school and had shared sporting interests and had occasionally competed for girlfriends. We were always comfortable together as I'd learned to ignore his grumblings.

This was day two of our camp together. While Nathan painted, I observed nature and did sketches and some photography. We'd found a perfect little clearing with a creek nearby. This area of the forest still appeared to be untouched by man, so I'd been surprised when a couple of people wandered into our camp.

"What did those people want?" Nathan asked.

"I didn't think you even noticed them. The couple were hiking to Pullen's Peak. I think he was a little disorientate with his navigation."

"They looked quite flustered from what I noticed. Also they didn't give the scenery much respect."

"I think you're right about the guy," I confirmed. "The girl was just being dragged along in his wake."

"You seemed to be studying her, particularly when they strode off. Did she appeal to you?"

"I guess so," I said with a touch of reticence. "She was very pleasant on the eye, particularly after only viewing a scruffy bearded hermit for the last 24 hours."

That was the conclusion of our longest conversation for the day. It didn't bother me as I enjoyed the peace and quiet. It also gave me the opportunity to recall the young woman I'd shared my coffee with.

She'd been tall and slender with nice brown hair pulled back into a loose braided ponytail, but it was her face that was special. It was so expressive. The only conversation from her was saying thank you twice; however she conveyed so much more to me through her expressive brown eyes.

On their arrival her expression made it clear she was fed up with the guy and was looking for a break. She then was appreciative when I offered her coffee and exasperated when the guy refused it on her behalf. When the guy wasn't looking, it was obvious she regarded him as a bit of a fool. I wondered how much more of his arrogance she was going to tolerate. Alas, I would probably never find out. She was just another ship passing in the night.

As I took another look at the sky, it became obvious that the heavens were about to open. I immediately cancelled my plan to cook dinner on the wood fire. For tonight something simple on the gas stove in the tent vestibule would be required.

I began packing everything away. Nathan quickly realized what I was doing so he also commenced stowing his painting gear inside his tent.

As I took cover, the first huge droplets resonated off the tent fly like a beating drum. Quickly it became a staccato of sound. Then the crescendo built up to a tumultuous cacophony.

I looked out the tent flap and could just see Nathan squatting in his tent opposite. With the assistance of reading his lips, I could just make out his cry: "This is freaking heavy!... This is crazy, man!"

It was obvious that his painting and my bird watching would have to wait. I just sat in my tent for the next half hour as the torrential rain just became louder. I could feel the tent being buffeted as the wind's intensity increased. It was also clear that the temperature had suddenly dropped considerably. It was going to be a cold night.

I could faintly hear Nathan shouting. I pulled open the flap to the tent vestibule and tried to make out his words as he enunciated: "Let's... go... back... to the... cabin!" Then listening carefully I heard: "It looks like this has set in. I just heard on the radio that this will continue into tomorrow."

"What radio?" I replied. I knew we came out for peace and quiet, but it would have been good just to have heard the news. "How did you get a radio signal when there's no reception for cell phones?"

"I have an AM station radio. Anyway, what do you think? Will we haul our asses back to the cabin?"

"Yeah" I bellowed back. "What about your canvasses?"

"I'll leave my tent here. We can return later."

"I need to pack up my tent." It was too expensive to risk leaving it unattended. "I'll need ten minutes to be ready." Most of my gear was packed away, but the tent was a Keron 3 GT. It was the best tent I could find for all weather conditions, but with four flexible poles it takes a little time to pack up carefully. I decided to leave the inner tent inside the fly so that it could be erected more quickly.

I pulled on my thick woolen sweater and then wrapped myself in a Gore-Tex rain jacket. I placed on my floppy hat before zipping up all the entrances. Now that I was ready, I dragged my pack outside into the rain.

Quickly removing the pegs, I then slid each pole from its sleeve. Once the poles were dismantled, I placed them with the pegs in a bag. The tent was quickly rolled up and placed in the second bag. These were then secured inside my pack.

Nathan had been watching from the security of his tent. I swung my pack onto my back and then stood there with the rain draining off my hat. He was just smiling out at me enjoying my discomfort, so I shouted: "What are you waiting for?"

Reluctantly he crawled out of his tent and picked up his pack then asked: "Ready?"

I nodded as he led off down the track we'd created when fetching water from the creek. Although we'd flattened much of the grass, my trousers were soon soaked from brushing against small bushes.

The visibility was poor. Although it was early afternoon it felt like last light. Everything was blurred by the downpour and mist. My ears were filled with the sound of continuous drumming of heavy rain on my coat and hat. That was why I was surprised that I heard a cry just as we were carefully negotiating down the creek embankment.

"Did you hear that?" I shouted to Nathan.

He stopped on the muddy track and turned so I could see his face. "Hear what?"

"It sounded like a woman's cry."

"I didn't hear a thing." Of course he had the plastic hood of his jacket over his ears. I realized he was unlikely to hear anything. Also the wind had picked up, adding more noise to the environment. Appearing to dismiss my concern he said: "This creek is already too swollen to cross here. The track crosses this same creek twice further downstream. Even if we find a crossing, we probably won't get much further."

"I'm going to walk up the gulley. I'm sure I heard something."

Nathan now followed me as I scanned ahead. Our little creek now looked like a raging river. What normally could be stepped over in three or four strides on exposed rocks had become fast rapids over 10 yards wide. I couldn't guess the depth, but I knew the speed of the flow would make it impossible to stand.

We'd gone on a further 30 yards when I noticed a blue jacket on the far side of the creek. It was amongst some large boulders. I realized it was a person. I pointed for Nathan's benefit and we both moved for a closer look.

Standing directly opposite, I could determine it was a woman lying face down with her head and body just out of the water. Her legs appeared to be submerged but I couldn't be certain due to the spray bouncing off some large rocks. I could only deduce she'd tried to cross using the tree for support and had fallen.

Stating the obvious I said: "We need to find a way to get across."

As I studied the ground further upstream, Nathan offered: "I have a rope." I looked at him waiting for the remainder of his suggestion. "One of us could tie the rope about their waist and try to wade or swim across. The other can then pull them back."

"Look at the current." With a doubtful tone I asked: "Are you strong enough? Then what? That water is freezing. How do we dry ourselves off... plus the woman?" Nathan didn't have answers and his expression showed that even he doubted the soundness of his plan.

I continued up the gulley again so I could see further. I carefully crossed numerous small rivulets of water before I saw a possibility. "There's a big old pine tree lying across the gulley up there. Let's check it out."

By digging my heels into the embankment, I was able to traverse up the slope. From behind me, Nathan's expletives told me he'd obviously slipped.

The pine was quite large. Its roots were exposed on this side of the creek, and it had fallen with its upper branches lodged in the fork of a tree opposite. The bare trunk was almost horizontal about 12 foot above the water's surface.

I turned to Nathan and said: "I should be able to cross on top of that pine."

"Do you intend to slide over on your butt?"

I considered my options. "I couldn't do that wearing my pack."

"Do you have to take your pack?"

"I won't be able to bring the girl back, so I have to be able to dry her and make her comfortable."

"I guess it's too far to throw your pack over?"

By now I'd worked out a method. "I'll need that rope."

As Nathan retrieved the rope from his pack, I went to the creek's edge and dipped my boots into the water to clear the mud from the soles. Once I'd climbed back up the embankment, carefully stepping on tufts of grass, he threw me the rope.

It was only about 10 yards of 1/2 inch manila rope. I looked at Nathan and commented: "This rope would've been a bit short for your plan." Nathan sheepishly shrugged in response.

I folded the rope in half and then wrapped the double it under and over the trunk just above the roots. The tree was only a foot above the ground here. Using some of the roots as steps, I tentatively walked up onto the base of the trunk.

For a moment I had second thoughts as I looked down at the rope at my feet. Rather than bend over and risk losing my balance due to the weight of my pack, I asked Nathan: "Pass me each end of the rope please."