Date: Sat, 27 Sep 2014 02:18:28 -0700
From: borischen <borischen (at) zoho.com>
Subject: Camping in Kentucky Chapter 1

This is a fictional tale of two young men that work in a custom tire
factory in Dayton, Ohio. They get together to go camping in Kentucky and
discover each other has a secret they keep hidden at work. This is 100%
fiction. Most of the chapters are short, this is an easy read written for
people speaking/learning English as a second language like me as a child.

Some keywords for this story are: camping, Kentucky, Ohio, factory, truck,
hills, hillbilly, rifle, targets, stream, fish, leeches, water, Dayton,
naked, campfire, logs, tent, alcohol, orgasm, semen, river, hike, coffee,
driving, trees, fog, dirt path, cabin, underwear, nipples, boner, rocks,
oatmeal, drunk, snoring, sleep, peaceful.

Comments to: borischen at zoho  com     I'll reply to your email.

Camping in Kentucky. By Boris Chen. Version 1. Copyright October, 2014, All
Rights Reserved.

Chapter one.

My name is James Zimmer. I'm 33 years old, live alone in a decent brick
suburban house in Kettering, Ohio. I work in Dayton, where I was
born. Graduated from Kent State University just east of Akron, Ohio where I
got a masters in organic chemistry. Now I work as a chemical engineer for a
custom tire manufacturer near Dayton, Ohio where we make big tires for
things like the Caterpillar 797, large Boeing military cargo planes, and
the Le Tourneau 2350.

I kinda keep to myself at work not wanting my sexuality to become an
issue. I'm not in a relationship, haven't had one since I finished school
seven years ago but I'm running a singles ad down in Cincinnati online.

----

At work I don't socialize much with coworkers from my office and seldom
chat with too many on the production floor but I always eat in the regular
staff cafeteria instead of the office cafeteria where my coworkers all eat,
sip coffee and hold informal meetings. Hanging out with production floor
staff I've gotten to know a few by name. The regular cafeteria is so
crowded it's impossible to sit alone. Sometimes it's too loud to carry on a
private conversation too. The place tends to get rowdy around 12:30pm every
day.

Most of the guys working there are rural southern Ohio types. They come to
work in Cabelas's camo caps, faded jeans, and t-shirts with the sleeves cut
off. Some of them chew, all of them have high school level education, but
they're really decent bunch of people. Thefts at work are almost un-heard
of, probably anyone that did would likely come up missing one day. Missing
from the earth that is.

I got introduced to this one guy, Lee Charters was his name. He's a typical
southern Dayton mobile home park guy. He lives alone, wears worn jeans and
T-shirts with Marlboro logos or maybe a Jack Daniels logo. We got to
talking across the lunch room table once about rifles and hunting a couple
times, he seemed like a decent guy, well spoken. His suppressed Kentucky
hills accent became obvious not too long after he first spoke.

I got an old Winchester 30-06 bolt action rifle. Been hunting in the past
for deer and other small critters but mostly I just plink or shoot at
targets. I bet it's been two years since I last shot my rifle.

Lee talks a very different line, he target shoots all the time and archery
too. He said he was born in Claryville, Kentucky, graduated high school
there but moved to Dayton two years ago for better job prospects.  He was
raised by his Uncle David since he was six months old when his parents died
after a motorcycle accident. Lots of men move up to Ohio and Indiana in
search of work. Sooner or later they always go home because Kentucky is a
beautiful state with a poor economy so natives always feel the tug to go
back home.

He said his uncle lives outside of town in a very hilly area, he owns about
500 acres of un-farmable rocky-hilly land used mostly for hunting and
fishing. He said he's been using a small valley as a shooting range and
camp site since he was a kid. Lee invited me to come with him to sight-in
my rifle and test out my camping gear. The offer he repeated several times
was tempting, I gave it serious thought but I still didn't know Lee much at
all.  ---- Time went by, the seasons changed, I still managed to sit in the
cafeteria on occasion across from Lee to talk weapons and his camp site. He
repeated his invite several times for a camping trip in Kentucky with him,
then today he told me his uncle left every November for his winter home in
Florida.

I spent the rest of my lunch breaks this week talking to Lee about the
place in Kentucky where we could go camping and shooting, he offered lots
of details. It also told me he wasn't making it up. I was cautious because
I sometimes got that Deliverance movie vibe from Lee and his tales of
outdoor fun in Kentucky.

Lee said the site was too far from his uncle's house for him being there to
matter much because his hips were too far gone to wander his huge plot of
hilly land. It had two small valleys surrounded by hills, deep in the
trees, about a 100 minute drive from Dayton. He said you drove past his
uncle's place, around the corner, down a dirt road that got muddy in the
spring, he parked in a dirt spot long enough for ten trucks.

Next came a hike on a dirt path up a 100 foot hill and down the other side
to a clearing about the size of a basketball court which sits in the middle
of a valley about the size of half a football field, surrounded by tall
hills with lots of hardwood trees and pines. Lee said there was a big fire
pit, space for tents, and several felled Cottonwood trees cut into long
bench seats with a chainsaw. There was no standing water and almost no food
so insects were almost non-existent there. There were deer, raccoon,
possum, snakes, and fox to shoot and eat. He said there was a stream a less
than half mile away in another valley with perch and trout.  To the south
was a huge state wilderness park seldom used by humans.

Lee told me he had ten, fifty, and one hundred meter targets set-up
there. The hills kept the shooting noise contained. I was sold. We agreed
on a weekend four weeks from now, Friday November 6th. We'd drive down on
Friday afternoon, sneak out of work a few hours early, meet at Lee's place
and drive in his 4x4 truck. He said weather in early November down there is
still usually nice.  ---- Over the weeks I dug out my camping gear in the
basement. I got a dome tent, sleeping bags, air mats, and lots of lighting
and cooking stuff. Been almost a decade since they were last used. Several
items made it into the trash and new stuff ordered to replace them.

Next came my rifle. I think my dad bought it new like sixty years ago, it's
a pretty good 30-06 shootin iron, real accurate and repeatable. More than
once I put two bullets through the same hole.  ---- On Thursday, the day
before I met Lee outside for lunch at the picnic table. It was cooling off
outside. Forecast for the weekend was sunny, warm, high around 78, lows
about 50. He showed me his truck, a 2015 Toyota 4x4 with a big lift, roll
bar, lights all around, big mud tires, and four doors. He said it bounced a
bit but was a decent ride, it would get us there regardless. He wrote a map
to his place, we agreed on a time, shook and parted for different
departments in the tire plant.

Let me describe Lee. He's a hillbilly. I guess him to be about 24 years
old, about six foot tall, brown hair and eyes, scrawny looking facial
hair. He looks like he's never exercised, kinda puffy. He had a little
belly and a chest that looked rounded and lumpy in front. He always wore
jeans, leather belt, and some worn t-shirt with boots. I think he works in
the tire packaging section of the plant which means he probably earns about
$45k a year. His directions lead me to a mobile home park on the south side
of Dayton right near I-75 where it crosses over US-35.

At home tonight I took all my gear to my car except the food and ice
chest. I would leave the ice chest inside the garage to remind me to stop
and get ice and some chow at the Circle K on the way to his place.