I spend a lot of time, writing my stories, which I like doing very much. I also spend a lot of time, editing and correcting my stories, which I hate. But it has to be done, if you are going to read an understandable and reasonably consistent story. My only reward is the letters I get from the people reading my stories. That could be from you! If you liked the story, then feel free to tell me so. If you thought it could have been better, please let me know as well.
(c) Copyright Henrik Larsen 2003.
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In '78, it was no longer fashionable to take the hippie route to Goa or Nepal, but after I'd finished college, I felt like going somewhere. I wanted to get away from it all and be alone for a while. I guess it was a part of growing up and becoming independent.
Goa or Nepal would have been out of the question, even if it had been fashionable. I didn't have very much money and decided to take a trip on foot into the Swedish forests. I carefully chose a place where I would be sure to be alone. I wanted to feel nature, wanted a little bit of that explorer feeling, searching for new frontiers, mine as much as natures.
Spring had been wet but as always, the fine weather came as exams began. Often, it would end as soon as the exams were over, but this summer the sun and warm weather continued throughout June and July.
I had packed enough dried food to keep me alive for three weeks, even if I didn't catch a single fish in the lakes and streams. I loved to fish and even though the part of Sweden I was going to wasn't the best for fishing, I'd still have a fair chance of some serious fishing: Small trout, bass and pike.
The tranquillity was wonderful. I walked all day without seeing a living soul. I could hear the animals, but was so far from civilisation that they fled long before I would ever be able to see them.
The first two weeks, I just walked deeper into the forests, only stopping to sleep fish and eat. Beyond the next rock or tree lay a new and better stream or view. Even though I was fairly far north, the weather was warm and that day, I could feel the air grow heavy. Dark clouds were forming in the afternoon and soon the distant roll of thunder reached me.
Before the rain and thunder arrived, I picked a good spot to camp, close to a little mountain pool. Overhanging branches sheltered my tiny tent and the rainwater was lead away from the campsite by a half circle of rocks and crevices.
I was surprised that a thunderstorm was so different out here, compared to what I was used to in the city. Every crack of thunder and bolt of lightning was powerful and distinct. I sat in the open tent door and enjoyed the sights until it had passed. Afterwards, the air was clean and fresh. The ground was soaked, but it was kind of nice too, because it would make lighting a fire less hazardous.
I prepared a meal with some wood I'd gathered before the rain started. The pool was too small for fishing. So I had to be content with the dried food I'd brought with me. It couldn't compare to a freshly grilled trout, but after soaking and boiling with some fresh herbs, it didn't taste too bad.
The rain had brought humidity in the air as well as on the ground. It was still hot and I suddenly realised how much I was sweating. It was a couple of days ago, since I had taken a dip in one of the lakes. The sun couldn't heat up the deep lakes and only the first few inches of surface water was reasonably warm. In other words: Bathing was a pretty cold experience. But I felt sweaty and the water in the pool was clear, blue and very inviting.
I took off my clothes and glasses and slipped into the water, expecting it to be cold, but it wasn't. The shallow pool was small enough for the sun to heat the water. I swam around for a couple of minutes before I began washing my clothes. I didn't have any detergent and it would have been a pity to pollute the clear water, so I just rubbed them against a smooth rock like I'd seen in films about life in the third world on TV. Maybe I didn't have the technique to perfection, but it was good enough for me.
I think my senses had been sharpened by the life in the wilderness. Suddenly I could feel that there was something or someone else around. I turned and looked, even though I couldn't see much without my glasses. The sound of a twig snapping confirmed my suspicion.
"Come on out. I'm not dangerous," I said.
I hadn't spoken for almost a week and it was strange to hear my own voice. Nothing happened at first, but I kept my eyes fixed on the spot where I'd heard the snapping twig. I saw a slight movement, and then a figure standing up from behind some bushes, fifteen feet away.
I swam towards the rock where I had left my glasses and put them on. It was a young girl. She stood for a moment, looking at me then took a few steps towards me.
"Hi!" I said.
"Hi! Eh, who are you?" she asked.
"I'm Peter. I'm on vacation here, kind of. What are you doing here?"
"I live here."
"In the forest?" I asked.
I hadn't seen any houses close by, but then again, the forest was dense and I could have passed a house less than a hundred feet away without seeing it.
"Half a mile that way,' she said, pointing her finger.
"OK. What's your name?"
"Ulrika."
We looked at each other for a second or two, maybe a minute, I don't know. I couldn't think of anything to say. She was blond, tall and not on the skinny side, although she wasn't fat in any way.
"You're bathing," she finally said.
"I am. Do you want to join me? The water is really nice,"
It must have been the lack of contact that made me say it. I didn't think about it at all, just spoke my thoughts. Ulrika blushed and shook her head.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you," I said.
"It's OK, but I don't have my bathing suit with me. I'm usually alone when . . ."
"Oh, it's your swimming pool?" I said.
Ulrika giggled and moved a little closer. I had made up my mind and decided that she was fairly pretty. Since I already had done what I could to embarrass her, I decided to continue to speak my mind.
"I don't mind it, if you want to swim without a bathing suit. I haven't anything on."
Ulrika blushed fiercely and hit her lip. I couldn't really tell how old she was. Judging by her looks, she could be eighteen, maybe twenty, but she acted like she was fifteen or sixteen. It was obvious that some part of her wanted to come in with me. She had undoubtedly planned to go swimming, not expecting her pool to be occupied.
"Are you alone?" she asked.
"Apart from you being here, I'm all alone," I joked.
She really had a hard time making up her mind. I was hoping she would do it, but she shook her head again.
"No, I don't think so."
"Okay, suit yourself. But it is really nice. Do you come here often to swim?" I asked.
"Almost every day, if the weather is good. It's my summer holidays now and I have nothing better to do."
"I guess it's a bit lonely to live out here."
"Uhhuh. My best friend lives 4 miles away. Where do you come from?" Ulrika asked.
