Date: Thu, 28 Oct 2010 21:11:55 -0600 From: dnrock@rock.com Subject: Photo 1 Please take notice that this story contains graphic sex between many of its protagonists. If this is offensive or illegal, then don't read it. You have been warned. Nifty has the posting rights and I hold the copyright. Photo by: dnrock(dnrock@rock.com) 1: The Meeting Breath taking, light, shadow, land and sky continually renewing, changing and altering. The loneliness is incredibly boring, so boring it almost completely dampens the rush of nature's ever changing continents. My mind wonders into some self important and meaningless fantasy or another. "Dam Apollo, get your act together, pay attention," I admonish my self. Recheck the meter readings, recheck your lenses, double check the settings, scan the horizon. I walk around. Light my pipe. Note the time and activity in my log book. Check the sky, check the forest, recheck the bald rock crags and surfaces. Drink another coffee, emptying the thermos. Double check the data entered on the laptop. This is the part I hate the most, sitting still, being patient. Its better then being huddled a blind. It could be poor weather. The bugs are not to bad today. "Add sugar to the grub list," taking a pencil and small note book from my breast pocket. "What is that," I say out loud, although I am alone? I picked up my field glasses and check the movement I thought I saw. "Nothing man, now your seeing things, you got to stop working alone," I tell myself in a soft, just a whisper voice. "Don't go their Apollo man," as I reach for my walkman. Music would be nice but the natural sounds of the forest are too important to success. I re-scan the area along the valley floor. That could have been a medium sized animal that my eye caught a flash of. It could have been a shadow, put in motion by the gentle breeze that always blows at these elevation. No, their it is again. A person it think, on the edge of a meadow. My attention is suddenly redirected by a sharp bird cry, then another. Adrenaline is now pumping into my blood, body tense, hands ready. I spring to my right grasping the Nikon 500 mm lens in my right hand the camera body in my left. Back pressed against a tree, breath out, relax. Their in the view finder, a blurred image. Follow it, keep on it. Its her coming into the nest. Keep still and keep you hand off the focus ring. "Now," I whisper. The bird has crossed into the pre set focus range, the range of the nest. My index finger presses the shutter release and a steady wine of the motor drive hums in my ear. Shutter and mirror clatter as 36 shots are exposed in seconds. Wow, wow was that great or was that great, thought rushes through my head. Snapping off the lens and placing it on another body. This one is manual advance. Focus up again as the bird, sitting on the nest edge, feeds her chicks. Those open little mouths reaching up to the sky and the parent's beak. Snap, Snap again and again until she lifts off. Another role almost gone. Two frames left. I look around. Over to the left some yellow flowers. Some, unknown to me, wild flowers. Macro lens in place, expose the frames. Reload the cameras get ready for the next arrival. Set up the tripod, hand held long lens shots are problematic. Label the film cassettes. Record the action on the laptop and in the log. Enter the new role numbers and get ready. Ah, that was so good, that was so good, I can not sit still, I'm still so pumped. That was worth spending the last several hours being patient. Light the pipe again. Sit and pounder the 15 minute emotional roller coaster you have just experienced. "Golden Eagles are just such beautiful birds, so majestic and so interesting. They even have expressions," I think. "Bald Eagles are neat too, I got lots of them last year." Looking to my left again, I notice the field glasses laying out of place on a rock, not on my equipment pack. Oh, the person in the meadow. I pick up the glasses again and scan the valley floor. Sure enough, it is a person. A male? Probably so, noticing the relatively long strides and upright stature. He has a ball cap on, the brim obscures his face. Not all that large a man, boy perhaps? No, to tall, likely a teen. Dressed in a black and gary wind breaker. No, walking stick but carrying a good sized back pack. No, canteen or knife on his belt. The figure turns enough to get a good look at his profile. Yes a male. Is he following a path? No it must be an animal trail, I would have seen a path if their was one. I wonder what a loan person is doing on some kind of cross county hike in the middle of a national forest. My location is 2 miles down hill to the nearest road. No official trails around here either. Just some animal trails like the ones I followed to this location. I wonder where the fellow is heading. Not to smart to be alone in the bush. Well if he has as much experience as me I guess its okay. He must be at least three quarters of a mile away. I wonder, is he is coming this way? For the next two hours I am busy with my birds, exposing several more rolls of film and many digital frames. I am hungry, opening my lunch bag for a sandwich, candy bar and apple juice. I'll keep my second coffee thermos until this afternoon, I figure. While I eat my eyes roam the area again for any other potential photo opportunities. Animals, flowers, birds, trees, rocks anything that might be a worthy candidate. Ah, a tree fungous just behind me. I set up using a tripod and macro lens for several shots. I wonder where the hiker is now? Looking at the valley floor again but no sign. Apollo man its time. Some clouds had moved in over the peak to the northwest. Not nice clouds, the ones that photograph well but a thick, gray, nondescript kind that dampens the warm sun colors and flattens the light. Light and shadow are my business in a way light and shadow are my life. Even a good subject can be of little value if the light is wrong. I packed up. Everything is placed in my frame pack. It was made to my specifications, holding all the gear I would need for an assignment or project. Each lens, camera or body, each large accessory has a special, padded place. Even a place for my lap top, lunch, rain gear and tripod. This thing is getting heavier by the day I think. I drink half my coffee. Well, water is heavy. Scan once again for the hiker and head back down the hill, along the animal trail, toward the car. I keep my eyes open for potential pictures. In the forest with no strong shadows I can always use a strobe for small things. This stretch of trees are thick and the forest floor is full of brush with few things of interest. It is a warm afternoon and the small animals and frogs are all sleeping. Damn mosquitos, I wish they would sleep. About half way to the car I stop for a rest. The thing is getting heavy, either I get some help or take less gear, I think. My animal trail turns due east down the hill. I take my pack off and sit down resting my back against a large pine. Light my pipe, to keep the mosquitoes at bay and just rest, listening to the forest sounds, letting my mind wonder off on some incoherent journey. My ears bring some reality back into this half dream world. What I hear is not a normal forest sound. It is a combination of something crashing through the underbrush and some muffled wines or whimpers. At attention in a flash, I move to the down hill side of the tree and strain my eyes and ears. Yes, their it is again. Getting louder and it's a lot of crashing. I'm about to pick up my pack but check first to be sure my bear bangers and pepper spray are at the ready. I ware a vest with lots of pockets, compass, pens and pencils, altimeter, bangers and launcher, and so on. I arm the launcher with a banger, and check the reediness of my digital camera. It is the hiker, he is running through the woods, more or less along the animal trail. Well running is perhaps to generous, it is more like stumbling. He trips and falls, struggles to get up and continues to run. His line of travel is erratic almost random. I've never seen this behavior before but I read about it. It is panic, a kind of rapture. When someone becomes lost or disoriented they can panic. Even experienced woodman can become panicked and when they do the results can be fatal. He was relatively close to me now, perhaps 50 feet, I must act. I yelled at him to stop. "Hay buddy hold on a minuet," I bleared. He looked at me, stooped short, turned and began to run, falling and struggling to get up. I sprang to action and reached him before he could get to far. Sitting on his legs and pressing down on his back with my hands. "Hay guy, just take it easy, just take it easy." His eyes were wide and his face reflected a look of terror. "You are damn lucky I saw you kid," I said, handing him my canteen, "drink, drink as much as you want, go ahead, it's just water, drink." "Thanks Mister," he replied, after taking a long pull on the canteen and still breathing hard, like he had just run a race; but then I guess he had just run a race of sorts. "I'm glad you held me down, I thought you weren't real when you called to me, I thought you were a vision. I was real scared. I'm sorry." He was sweating big time and his clothing was torn. "That's okay, I guess I would be scared too or at least a bit shocked under your circumstances." I had him lay on the forest floor, until his breathing returned to normal. Now that he stopped running and crashing around he would become cold as his sweat soaked clothing let body heat escape into the dry mountain air. "Now Kid, you sit here, and drink more water, while I get my gear, you won't run again will you." "No sir, I don't know what happened to me, I..." "It's okay, I'll explain it all to you in a few minutes." I got my pack and gave him the remainder of my lunch along with the last of the coffee. "You had a panic attack. I'll bet you got disoriented and realized you were lost, then you panicked. Some people call it hikers rapture. It can happen to anyone, even experienced hikers and woodsman. The big dangers are hypothermia, dehydration and debilitation or physical harm. You will be all right now, I know the way back to my car and the road you must have been looking for." Fortunately he dropped his back pack and other stuff just a few yards away, so we did not have to go searching for it. "My name is Apollo Bides," extending my right hand. "I'm Bradley Sumewalt." he replied taking my hand and shaking it vigorously. Brad was about 15 or 16, medium height, medium weight, medium brown hair, hazel eyes, with a nice smile and a dirty face. I reached in my pack and took out my old Leica which I used for b/w snapshots, taking several pictures of him, finely getting a big smile. "You a photographer?" "Yes, well I try, anyway. Brad do you have a dry shirt or sweater in your pack? Better put it on." He looked a bit incredulous, but stood up, still a little shaky, opened his pack, pulled out a gray flannel shirt. I offered to help him but he held on to a tree branch saying he could do it himself. He pulled off the torn wind barker and took of a sweet soaked T-Shirt with some kind of beer advertisement on it. His shoulders were broad for a teen, his chest was almost hairless and his skin was a mild tan color, not unlike mine. Telling him we had about a mile to the car but it was mostly downhill his face brightened into a wide smile revealing perfect, very white, teeth. We didn't talk much while heading for the car. Mostly it was single file on the narrow animal trails. I carried his pack and he carried the canteen. The poor lad was completely bagged by the time we came to the clearing at the end, of what passes for a road. My car, an old Jeep Wagerer, not a smooth ride but good for rough trails. I refilled the canteen from my 5 gal can of spring water and found some spare candy bars for us. Sugar and water are best under these conditions. As it turned out Brad had no food with him and had nothing to eat for about two days. He was probably hypoglycemic that's why he panicked as easily as he did. As we ambled down the rough trail and onto the National Forest gravel he fell asleep. How he could sleep under these conditions I will never fully understand, but he did. I wondered what his story was? I wondered if I had the resources to help him, assuming he needed help? By the time we hit the pavement he was pressed against the Jeep's door, he mouth open, sleeping like a baby. In fact, he had that innocent, dirty faced look, often seen on sleeping children. I thought about taking his picture but did not act on that thought. Waking with a start he looked around with panic in his eyes and then bewilderment on his fact. "Who..ah..what...ah...where are we?" "We are on highway 15 heading south east to the Crackling River Wilderness Camp Ground and dinner. Of course, we have to cook it first." He did not reply but was back asleep in a second. I pulled up to my tent site, eased out of the Jeep, leaving Brad to sleep, and got after dinner. Now dinner in my tent camp is not fancy, in fact it is mostly cheep: KD, Spam, fruit and cookies. I fired up the Coleman and got the water boiling. Knowing he would be hungry I put on a double batch. By now the clouds had moved in and the air had cooled off. I suspected rain was not far away. One nice thing about mid June are the long days and few other campers. We had the place all to ourselves at least so far. I'm glad our paths crossed when they did I thought, with this weather he surely would have become hypothermic without shelter. Brad woke up just as the pasta went into the boiling water. He stumbled about for a few seconds, finding a place to pee and then returned. "God, Apollo, you are a Greek god, just like your name." "Naw, I'm as mortal as your are, but thanks for the complement, man. Here have a pop. I hope KD and Spam will be enough?" "Ya, I like KD (Kraft Dinner in case you did not know) and I'm so hungry even Spam sounds good. But, I don't want to take your dinner." "It's okay, Brad, I made a double batch." "Look man your face is dirty and you have scratches on your arms too. Why not clean up, hot water is in the kettle?" Brad dug his pack out and found a small towel, I gave him a bar so soap and the basin. He washed his face and arms. Now that he was clean, his skin had a sparkle to it, but he looked even younger. He put on a light jacket, it was getting cooler. Over dinner we chatted a bit about ourselves. He is 15 and some but looked 14, he did not look like he was shaving yet. He grew up in Chicago and had never been in the mountains before. He had hiked in the Forest Preserves around the Chicago area and had been in Northern Wisconsin and Upper Michigan a time or two. I still did not know why he was coming across country in the Forrest alone. I figure he was on the run from some thing or some place. He had almost no money and would not tell me where he was headed. I figured he didn't have much camping equipment either. After the dishes, which Brad insisted on doing by himself, we sat drinking coffee. He was obviously not a big coffee drinker as he put lots of milk and sugar in it. While we talked Brad asking me lots of questions about my work and why I was camped alone in this location. A Forestry Service truck came slowly into the camp ground. Brad became quite agitated when he saw it. I said, "Jim Mac Williams one of the district forestry officers and game warden. He's okay, but if you don't want him to know your name make up something. I'll tell him you are my new assistant." "Yes, your new assistant, I can use my name, I'm not hiding from anyone." I was going to make up his home town but with that Chicago accent of his, it would be useless. Jim sat with us and had a coffee. He told me to expect lots of rain for the next day or three, perhaps even some snow at this elevation. He was obviously suggesting I brake camp for a few days. My only problem was lack of money. If I did brake camp it would have to be to another public campground, which I articulated to him. Jim suggested I call in at his office some time in the late morning, he just might have a place for us to stay for a few days at no cost. Jim turned to Brad and inquired how he got so scratched up and how his jeans had become torn, was I making him carry the cameras into difficult places? Jim knew I would never do that knowing I was a survival instructor and former Eagle Scout. Brad did not know this though, so I wondered how he would answer. "I got turned around in the forest and panicked. Apollo sat on me until I calmed down but that was after I fell a few times." "Well young man your a lucky that you were with Apollo here, he probably saved your life, although I'm surprised he let you go off on your own in the first place." "Oh he didn't let me, I wandered off while he was taking his pictures and just got lost, it was my fault and I won't do that again ever." "I guess you learned the forest and mountains are some different from the streets of Chicago?" "Yes sir, just as dangerous if you don't know what your doing," he said with a big smile. Jim departed, admonishing us to batten down the hatches as a cold front was only an hour or so away. We built a bit of a fire and I made another pot of coffee, I really like coffee. Well the kid was honest, it took some guts for a 15 year old to admit he was not only wrong but that he needed to learn a lot too. Now I would need to learn a lot if dropped off in a strange neighborhood of Chicago, I wonder if my ego would let me admit I need help and guidance. "Apollo, did you really mean I could be your assistant?" "Sure but you must know up front I can't afford to pay you much and our food budget is somewhat restricted, if that's okay." I kind of liked the kid, not that I am all that much older being 20 myself. "But you don't know anything about me? Sure it's okay, I don't need much money and gourmet food is not me either." "Well I know you are honest, willing to learn and capable of hard work. You are right, I don't know you very well, but you don't know me either but I sure like your Chutzpah." "I sure like yours too," he said looking at the ground. I stood up, pointing out the thunder in the distance and suggesting we make the camp secure. He did not have a sleeping bag, fortunately I had a spare bag and foamy in the Jeep. He did have rain gear and some clean clothing, not much mind you, but some. We made our beds ready and put everything away. Checked the tent fly, brushed our teeth and ready for the coming storm and sleep. This tent is relatively small but will sleep two if they are close together. I fixed a battery lamp to the loop at the top of the tent so we could see what was what. "Hang your socks on one of the lines by the vent at the top of the dome, Brad. Do you want my pillow? Keep your t-shirt on and take off your pants." He followed my instructions. His underwear were light gray, tight bikini briefs, with a strange symbol on the front. He was slim but well built, with broad shoulders, thin waste, small hips, compact well shaped butt and thin arms and legs. He was dark complicated like me, Greek or Spanish perhaps. We put our boots and shoes by the door and adjusted the window vents to keep out any rain. Brad settled in, zipping up his bag. I turned off the light, reminding him of the flashlight location, in case he had to get up during the night and settled in myself. The rain was now falling in earnest. Large drops hitting the tent fly set up a steady rhythm that soon put both of us to sleep. Usually I masturbate, like most young men, before falling asleep alone, but not tonight, I was bushed and I guessed Brad was too. I half woke several times with the electrical activity in the area, once I inspected the tent for leaks, all was well. Some time during the night Brad must have been dreaming as he called out something unintelligible and thrashed around a bit. I reached out touching his forehead and stroked his head, he settled back into a more restful slumber.