Date: Tue, 16 Sep 2014 23:19:40 -0700 From: borischen <borischen@zoho.com> Subject: camping in kentucky chapter 3 Saturday Morning. I woke up early when the sunlight broke through the trees to the east over this un-named valley. I unzipped my tent poking my head out to see what was up. The clearing looked nice. Kinda foggy, very peaceful, cool, everything was wet. I could see some spider webs covered with dew moisture beads evenly spaced on those tiny threads. At the moment I wasn't hungry but I was thirsty and my brain felt foggy. Back in my tent I zipped shut my sleeping bag, gave myself a sponge bath from the package of baby wipes I always take camping, then got dressed into new clothes. Emerging to the new day I stretched as I got to my feet by the front of my yellow dome tent. I checked my boots for bugs and slipped them on. In my camping supplies I located the tiny folding propane stove and water pot. In minutes I had water heating, the apparatus balanced on the Cottonwood log-sofa nearest my tent. I took a short stroll around the perimeter of the clearing, when I went past Lee's tent I thought I heard faint snoring. Let me describe this clearing. It's a large oval. There are three exits. If this place was like the face of a clock, we hiked-in from the truck entering about ten, the clearing opened wide to the south from five to seven o'clock, and another trail headed off around the two o'clock. Our tents were pitched in the sandbox which sat about twelve to one o'clock. Looks like the firing line for target practice sat about eleven. The fire pit formed by rocks was raised in the center, about four feet across with another larger ring around it maybe ten feet across. Next comes the walkway around where I'm moving slowly right now. It's about four feet wide. Then comes the ring of tree trunk sofas, pieces of tree trunk to use like stools, and the edge of the sandbox, then it's back into large trees. I could hear my tiny MSR Rocket camp stove from across the clearing. By the time I got back I could see steam coming rising above it. Pouring it in my french press I made myself two cups of dark roast and started sipping it down. I was still cold out and everything was damp but the hot coffee went down nicely. Moments later I heard movement in Lee's tent, then the flap zipper, and out he emerged with horribly funny mohawk-like bed-head. I laughed, Lee flipped me off with a snarky grin. I nodded towards the rest of my coffee, he walked to his stuff, pulled out an old beat up dented stainless steel mug and walked over holding out his hand. We shared my coffee, I got stuff out to make another pot of two servings. "Would you boil me another pot of water since you got your stuff goin?" He asked. "Sure, bring it on over." I said reaching into my pocket to fish out my lighter again. Lee walked over with his water thing we filtered from the stream last night. He poured in the water while I adjusted the flame on the rocket. It looked like way too much water for anything he could eat. I sat and watched as he walked by his tent looking for something. In no time he came back with a pack of oatmeal and some rubbery flexy bowl thing you could squeeze into a ball but it would pop right back into bowl shape. In seconds his oatmeal or something was resting, evolving into something edible, maybe it was instant grits. I sipped my coffee enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the clearing. I noticed the fog was almost gone. Lee got out a small cloth and a bottle of liquid soap. As soon as he was done eating he rinsed off his bowl and spoon then poured some steamy hot water over to sanitize and set them aside. Next he doused the small cloth and added soap. Without any warning he stood up, turned his back towards me, pulled off his shirt, dropped his jeans standing there in his tighty whities he gave himself a sponge bath in the face, pits, and crotch, then slowly rinsed himself off with the few remaining ounces of warm water. I was staring at his back side noting that his lack of muscular shape went all the way around his body. He turned around to face me and carry back the sauce pan, now empty. His underwear was drenched since he never took it all the way off. I could see right through it. He had an amazing look. First was a very pronounced bulge in his underwear, his lower stomach was rather furry, lots of black fuzz which stopped an inch or two above his deep round bottomless belly button hole. Next came his chest. He had no sign of proper chest muscles just mounds, left and right with two enormous womanly nipples that looked painted on. They followed the contour of his chest shape, didn't protrude at all, so even with a tight t-shirt you would never know he had woman size nips. I felt compelled to stare as he walked up. "Thanks dude." He said handing me his empty sauce pan. I was speechless but I'm sure he's seen that look before in public school. His nips were easily bigger around than a twelve ounce can of soda. "You done with it?" I asked finally regaining my ability to speak. "Think so." He said looking back at me over his shoulder as he headed for his pile of clothes by his tent. I suddenly felt physically inadequate. I never expected this guy to flash me so much skin and have such a nice body too, but I kept those thoughts to myself. This camping trip just got a whole lot more complicated. By lunch time we had located and cleared the holes for the rifle target supports and the firing line near his tent. Basically they had four markers he said his uncle measured off with string forty years ago were now just steel pipes in the ground you could insert sticks used to hang paper targets. They formed a staggered line so from the firing spot near our tents you looked down the line at the paper targets he brought along. From exactly the right firing spot they were almost side by side. Lee showed me this trick his uncle taught him long ago. With his knife he cut three branches cutting and whittling then pressing them into large letter T shapes, his target on one side, mine on the other. The paper targets we brought got pinched in place by the bark. The entire supports were made without any nails or anything other than a pocket knife and hill country smarts. We started our target shooting, each of us emptying one clip at a time. I got out my tools and made some slight adjustments to the back sights on my rifle, but basically it was spot-on, just like always. When Lee walked down range to gather our targets I watched his back side sway and wiggle as he walked off collecting two paper targets from each stake, his on the right, mine on the left. In my mind I watched his upper body trying to imagine what he'd look like naked, which got easier the closer he got. Then I became aware that I had been watching him the entire time and him watching me back, way too obvious!