Brooklyn
“Wait, so we hike to the campground?”
I tighten the straps on my pack as Tyler unloads a few more items from the truck.
“Yup. Second-guessing?”
“Not a chance, Slade.” I put on a brave face, but I’m actually terrified. First, I grew up in the suburbs, where the only thing we were worried about was mosquitos. Second, while I’ve been here for many weeks, I still haven’t acclimated to the altitude, so climbing up even further will be a serious test of my fitness.
“All right, let’s do it. It’s actually not a long hike—just about two miles—but with our packs and the ever-increasing altitude, it’ll be a challenge.”
He looks back at me and I smile. “Ready.”
“Hey, come here.” He gestures with his head and I walk up to him. He grabs me by my coat and pulls my mouth to his, kissing me furiously and taking my breath with it. “Now we’re ready.”
The hike isn’t as bad as I thought it would be—for the most part. I dart my arms out to steady myself as we walk across a few slippery boulders in a creek.
There are a few parts where the trail seems like it almost turns back on itself in a hairpin turn. Every few minutes, Tyler looks back over his shoulder to check on me, sometimes asking if I’m okay.
“Yes, I’m okay, I promise.”
It’s nearing dusk when we make it to our campsite. If Tyler hadn’t been with me, there’s no way I’d have known this place was a campsite other than the small clearing among a few trees and the small fire pit.
“Wow, this is—” I look back down to where we started our hike. I don’t finish the statement as Tyler walks up behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. “Thanks,” I say, looking back over my shoulder at him.
“For?”
“Bringing me up here. I know this is your land and probably your solace—where you come to escape. It means a lot to me.” He squeezes my shoulders before removing my pack from my arms.
“It’s nice having you with me. I’ve never brought anyone up here. Never camped with anyone, actually—unless you count Trent and my dad when I was growing up.”
I turn around and watch as he places our packs on the ground and unfolds the tent. A warmth spreads through my belly and I want to ask him, Why me?What makes me special enough to bring up here? But I’m also not sure I’m ready to pull at that thread. We’ve just admitted that we like each other, so trying to pull out more might put him back on his guard and ruin this intimate moment. Instead, I smile and walk over to help him.
“You ever pitched a tent before?”
“Pitched?” I laugh. “I didn’t even know there was a technical term for it.”
He gives me a knowing smile—like it’s no shock I’ve never roughed it in the wilderness—and holds up a pile of metal rods.
“These are the stakes. We’ll put these into the ground through the loops on the corner of the tent itself. That keeps it in place. First, though,” he stands up and kicks away a few rocks and bends down to pick up a stick by his feet, “we need to clear this area of debris.”
“Sounds easy enough.” I follow along and pick up any rocks and sticks I see.
“Now we lay out our footprint—where we’re going to put the tent and assemble these.” He bends down and produces several long poles. “We’ll put these through the loops on the tent canvas then pop it up.
It’s actually a lot easier than I expected. We follow his steps and pretty soon the tent is assembled and we’re working on building a small fire in the stone fire pit. I gather kindling and Tyler grabs a few larger logs. Once it’s crackling, I set up our chairs and pull out the sandwiches and chips I packed for us.
“This is so fun.” I smile over at him between bites.
“Really? I thought for sure you’d hate something like this.”
I give him a slightly annoyed look. “Why?”
“Well, ya know . . .”
I don’t know.
“You’re a city gal and I figured something that would get you dirty or feel unfamiliar like this would be a major turnoff . . . but you’re extremely capable. I’m impressed.”