Does this look like car
camping to you?
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Column # 195: Camping
w/o a Car |
Does this look like car
camping to you? |
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| Living the Life of Holly
He kissed my cheek. “Nah. You’re going to love backpacking into the Rocky Mountains in the Roosevelt National Forest.” He tied sleeping bags onto the bottom of his pack. “And just think, there won’t be anyone else up there, because the road’s closed.” He piled two folding chairs, my jacket and some crackers into my arms. I know. All that with my heavy attitude and I could barely lift my feet. He hoisted the overstuffed backpack onto his back, picked up the thirty pound food box and turned to me. “Mule-man at your service.” He winked as he sprinted up the first hill of the shadowy mountain. I slowly munched on a cracker as I pointed my body towards the hill. “How far do we have to walk?” I half-called up to him. “I never agreed to backpack.” “Ten minutes. Tops.” He yelled back. I could do ten minutes. I mean. It was pretty nice out there with all the trees and rocks and moss and stuff. At least there was a trail to walk on. I could carry chairs. Forty-five minutes later we were standing somewhere on the mountain while Cool-guy surveyed the crevices looking for a sign that he was near his all-time-favorite-spot. “Honey. Walk with me this way.” “I can’t. I’m out of crackers. I’m hungry. I’m tired. And it’s getting dark.” “I think the meadow is right over that hill. You’re going to love it. Imagine wildflowers everywhere.” “Look. I don’t wanna eat wildflowers. I’d rather eat scallops. Did we pull them out of the cooler, Mr. Backpacker?” He sighed. “Don’t worry. It’s all under control.” “Yeah? Under control? Then. You find the meadow… I’ll wait here.” He spun slowly a few times, surveying the tops of the trees. “Maybe it’s back the way we came.” I sat on a rock and laid the chairs next to me. Then thinking better of my decision, I dramatically stood up, opened a chair, and sat in it. “I don’t mind.” I said, slowly. “You find the meadow, then you can find me. If you can’t find me, just know, you’ll never see your chairs again.” “Come on, Holly. Let’s walk five more minutes.” “Nope. I’m done climbing. Wildflowers shouldn’t be so hard to find.” “Please? You’d really love that meadow.” “Next time we go car camping, let’s bring the truck.” Come on. We all know it is up to us girls to make our boys stop searching for that perpetual meadow, or else they’d never get any sleep. He walked over to a rock outcropping. “Ok.” He pouted. “We’ll stay right here.” The whole trip seemed less of a forced march now that he was doing me the favor of stopping. This was an amazing spot. There was a wall of rocks behind us and a canopy of Pine trees and Aspen trees over us. The only sound in the desolate forest was the welcoming birds. It was so charming in this spot that I would refuse to move for the next forty-eight hours. This was beauty. This was relaxing. “Thanks honey.” I gushed. “It’s so quiet. I love it right here. I don’t need flowers. I love rocks…. Get it, Rocky Mountains…. Don’t you love rocks?” “Not really.” He grumbled, dropping the food box on a tree stump. “Food.” I offered. “You need food. Want a pear?” “Don’t you want dinner?” “We forgot the scallops. Besides… I ate all those crackers. Let’s just eat the fruit.” He shook his head and commanded me to start a fire, which took a bit of doing. You know. Collecting twigs. Finding dry branches and bits of wood. But. I knew the secret to starting a roaring fire in the woods: Start the process, and in no time your boy will take over. He did. The fire was the pride of the forest in no time. He stood over me as I sunned myself against the flames. “I’m going to walk back down to the truck and get the scallops. You wanna come, or do you want to wait here?” Oh. Easy, easy answer. “I’ll keep the fire going.” And. It was an easy answer. Until the noises started. First there was this long, low moaning which made me wonder if the road was really closed, or if there was someone up here who wanted everyone to think the road was closed. You know. So there wouldn’t be any witnesses to the havoc he would play at the end of the cracker crumb trail. That moaning stopped and a while later I heard distinctive steps not too far off in the woods. I ignored them, figuring it was a bear looking for scallops. Hopefully he would know this wasn’t the place. Maybe the forest service closed the road because there had been a massacre up here and they were trying to clean it up. I mean. What kind of sick-o would want to come up here all alone, anyway? Cool-guy figured he would be gone at least an hour and a half. I started counting the minutes. Man. Ninety minutes. An hour an a half was a long time alone in the dark, middle of nowhere. Next I heard a high, thin screech that went on and off. I decided to poke at the fire, to prove to whomever was making the noise that I couldn’t hear anything. As I poked around the fire, the noise stopped. What? Poke the logs and the noise stops? Oh. So even the logs are making moaning sounds up here? Great. Just great. I heard more steps. This time they were walking quickly. Towards me. Quickly. I poked the fire. Ignore the sounds. They will go away. Ignore the sounds. How come we didn’t put up the tent to hide me from predators? The steps continued to approach. I forgot my strategy of pretending they weren’t there. I called out, “Is that you.” “Yes.” Cool-guy answered. I exhaled quickly. “I thought you promised to announce your arrival.” He laughed. “Who else did you think would be way up here?” “I thought you were going to be gone an hour and a half.” “Well. The truck was only five minutes away.” “What?” I fumed, forgetting the relief I felt for not being the victim of a deep woods ritualistic killing. “You walked me back and forth in these woods for forty-five minutes, and the truck was only five minutes away?” “Yeah. Isn’t that funny?” He approached the circle of light with more food. Yeah. But. Now I wasn’t hungry. Forty-five minutes of marching around and we never even found the meadow? “And.” He said. “Just so you know. Whatever we don’t eat has to be carried back down to the truck, tonight, so the bears don’t come around for a midnight snack.” Isn’t it funny how the thought of visiting bears and late night hikes drastically increases one’s appetite? Wanna try another column? How about #196 A Marriage Made in Sixth Grade which is about kids giving their teacher marriage advice. or Click here to go to Current Columns to pick another column. 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