Tree Stump Stubborn

The engine purred to a stop as my most attractive companion brought his pickup to the curb in the forest service parking lot. Our view was spectacular with mountains and trees and distant waterfalls promised by the promotional brochure.

“Which trail do you want to hike? “he said.

I was ready to jump out and walk in the expected coolness amongst the shade of those tall vibrant greens: I swore to myself they were calling my name: my hand hit the door handle. As I turned it and stepped a leg out onto the gravely surface I said, “Whichever one you choose. Let’s just get out there!”

I reached inside the open truck bed and pulled out my back pack. I snapped the support belt into place around my waist. I jiggled the pack into place between my shoulders. The water bottle sloshed happily in the side pocket and the delectable snacks I had prepared beforehand weighted the rest. Fellow members of the outdoor club  we both belonged to had praised me for my ingenuity for tasty treats and I wanted to impress Jake because several of the guys told me he was a standup guy.

He hadn’t gotten his pack and as I walked around the back of the truck to see what he was doing, I heard the rustling sound of paper. Not like the crinkle of an  8 1/2 x 11 when you bunch it up but a more muffled sound. My mind flipped to recognize the thicker fabric of a map, the kind you buy in sports good stores with a waterproof wax-like lining.

Jake sat sideways in the driver’s seat with his feet on the ground and balanced a geographic map the size of an opened Atlas on his knees.

“What are you looking at?” I said, pleased he apparently was a man of preparation and diligence.

“I’m looking the trails over to see where we should spend our day.”

“Does it matter which one we take? They’re all good.”

He looked up, pushing the nose of his sunglasses closer to his skin, “Huh? You mean you’d like to go to the gravel pit over here?”

“What?”

He pointed to the beige colored strip printed on the map that lay where the forest faded into flatlands along a creek. “Sure,” he said with hardness in his voice, “there is water but PUFF,” he said with added air bouncing his lips, “I mean. Big deal.”

I bent over to see where the trailhead started and followed his finger to where three trails plunged away from the first. Each spiraled in different directions. He was right, the west one headed toward the low lands.

“I think you’re right,” I said. “I would rather be in the trees at higher ground.”

“Good,” he said with a sigh, “cause I’d like to go way higher above the tree line over here.”

He pointed about a five mile distance from the parking lot to an area that overlooked the river from above.  I imagined the site in my mind and realized the river and trees would be way down below.

“Oh,” I said. “Why there? It’s so far from the trees and water.”

“I brought my bow and arrow. I want to do some shooting.”

“Isn’t that illegal? Don’t they have to be used during certain times of the hunting season?”

“Yeah, but the bow is collapsible and fits inside my pack.” His sweet blue eyes peered at me over his glass frame. His playful wink reminded me as to why I had noticed him in my biology lab in the first place. The errant swigs of hair swung lazily over his left brow and all he had to do was shine that sweet full smile and I was captured immediately. I wondered what more there was to him that created this charisma.  He continued,  “No one will see me but you up there.” He tapped the map where he wanted to hike, saying “You could help me out by setting up distances and measuring them for me.”

I straightened and inhaled, tapping a foot. I relived the intensity of his presence  that first time he accompanied me to class. I wanted to spend more time with him.  We had coffee the following day. I admitted to myself that I held secret images of private chats in my head, not an athletic training session.

“Well, let’s look at what the third trail offers,” I said diplomatically.

We both looked as he traced with his forefinger along the third trail. It followed a stream through a meadow and ran through the forest to a lookout peak and waterfall. I lifted my head and pondered the new growth sprouting along the top of the trees and knew that was where I wanted to hike. “Above the tree line will be hot and sunny but walking along the forest trail by the stream sounds cool,” I said, not willing to give up my dream, thinking of cozy shadows and shared whisperings.

“Okay, we could do both,” he stated. I watched him as he stood and folded the map into quadrants, then shoved it into the thigh pocket of his pants. He stretched full height. Smiled and then stepped back as he went to retrieve his equipment.

Tension rolled through my back and down my legs. “I don’t want to do both trails.”

“Why not, it’s easy. You’ll enjoy it and so will I.” He stepped past the truck toward the trailhead.

We didn't speak as we walked and I ruminated on how this day trip would test the potential of this relationship – if there really was a relationship. My legs stiffened as we approached the split in the trail. “I don’t want to go to tree line,” I said.

He stopped and looked at me straight on, face-to-face, like a dare. My legs felt strong and solid as the tree stumps scattered along the trail. “What you’re planning is illegal this season in national forests.”

“Yeah but I bet all the other hikers today will be going on the meadow route. It’ll be crowded at the nice spots.”

“So? Isn’t that why we’re here?” I couldn’t hide the tang of sarcasm that leaked over my lips.

He swiped the side of his pants, “But I wanted to practice my shots and I like it when I’m alone in the wilderness.” He smiled at me again with those winning lips. The mouth that could be plastered on billboards to promote perfect dental work or a romantic dinner with a movie star. I felt that tingle on my hand where he had touched it. It sparked a knowingness inside me that this guy might have something substantial to offer a relationship. I didn’t want to let that go.

“We’re two people. This is a two-person venture here.” I put my hands on my hips, legs rooted deep.

He roughed up his curly hair. “We could come back and do your trail another day. How’s that?”

I shook my head. “I want to know you. Not be an aide to your outdoor curriculum. Wouldn’t that come later if we even know we want to be,” I raised my index fingers in the air to border the following two words, “a couple.”

He crossed his arms, “So, “ he said with a deeper tone, “what you really want is to be in charge. Is that it?”

“No, I just think it’s better to develop the relationship first. Isn’t that why we want to be together?”

“Yeah. I like you but we’re here to have fun, aren’t we?”

We both stood silent as fallen leaves as several hikers bypassed us. They followed the meadow trail. The one that led to the waterfall with those intimate alcoves for conversation and snuggling.

“See,” he said, gesturing after them, “they’re taking the easier trail.” He tilted his head, “Or aren’t you who I thought you were, an outdoor adventurer.”

“So, it’s a question of skill is it?” I could rattle off all the hikes I had taken prior to meeting him but it seemed fruitless. “It appears you are less interested in me than you are with your bow and arrow. Go uphill to do your thing and I’ll go where I want to be.”

I held my breath. I dared to submit him to a test. I didn’t know what game he was playing and I thought he would change his mind and realize how he was shutting me out but he shocked me with his answer.

“So be it,” he said flatly.

He walked away adjusting his pack as he settled his feet on the path. For a long moment I thought of following him, giving in to the duty he had assigned me just to investigate if the depth I sought with a man was really there inside those wondrous eyes. My heart beat increased just remembering the sensation of being with him.  Out of all the girls that were in the outdoor club, he had chosen me. I didn’t want to give him up but I refrained. My stubborn wood-stiff  legs weren’t willing to move unless there was something more meaningful than merely an assignment.