THis reminded me of a camping trip I took-hmm -must have been '74 or 75- This guy I was dating and I decided to hike part of the Appalachian Trail (we were living in Charlottesville)- just a little seven mile hike -spend the night somewhere along the trail-and hike back the next day. We had some food, I suppose, though I don't remember it, and a fifth of gin and some tonic, which I do remember, and our sleeping bags and a big piece of plastic. It was a glorious warm day as we set out. We followed the trail along a mountain creek until we got to a deep rock pool several miles into the forest and decided we would take a quick swim. I made him go in first. Probably very aware of how he looked- he was a wrestler with a very good body-he posed on a rock ledge, naked against the setting sun, smiled seductively at me, and dove gracefully in. As you noted, water coming down from the mountains is extremely cold and he came up screaming. I've never seen anyone swim on top of the water like that. No way was I going to get in that water- huh-uh. I grabbed my clothes and ran, with him chasing me, blue and shivering, crying, "It feels great! C'mon, damn it! No fair!"
We spent the night in the woods where it started to rain. The only thing we could do was put the ground tarp over us, open the gin, and get through the night. It was not fun. He was still pissed that I hadn't gone in the water, I guess, and kept telling me stories about bears eating campers. And the hike back up a muddy trail the next day was the most exhausting thing I have ever done- By the last mile, I was taking two steps, and stopping to rest; I literally crawled the last 100 feet out of the woods. I kept thinking he'd offer to carry my backpack, but he didn't, a truly vindictive guy. We broke up not long after. |
