Kira and I are the most typical hiking lesbians. She has always been the lipstick lesbian and I have always been the outdoorsy lesbian. We have enjoyed camping and hiking for quite a while. But this recent trip went off the rails fairly quickly. Only a couple miles in I think we took a wrong turn. The trail slowly petered out and I was too prideful to turn around at first. It wasn't until we were bushwhacking that I finally was humble enough to say that I think we were lost, but by that time we were REALLY lost.
My First clue was Kira. She started becoming really uneasy. I knew that she's had some anxieties in the past and has always been nervous about camping. But I could tell she was ramping up towards a panic attack. I calmed her as best I could and told her that we would get right back on the trail in no time.
But that was two days ago.
Finally, after 48 long hours we found the road. We debated for probably half an hour to go left or right on the road. Knowing one will lead to civilization and one even further into the woods. But only as we approached a big log cabin did we realize we took the wrong turn.
As we approached, the cabin seemed to be occupied, contrary to our assumptions. In fact there was a small wisp of smoke coming from a chimney and sounds of work in the backyard. We called out a couple times to see if we could get any response but ended up walking past the garden and the chicken coop to find who was back there.
The man we found there was tall, his shoulders and back bronzed by the Sun. He was chopping wood and facing away from us. We tried to catch his attention with a couple "Hello!"'s but during one of his upswings we saw an airpod stuck in his ear. I motioned to Kira to stay there and took a broad circle around him bordering on the tree line so as not to surprise him. As I circled, I noticed his strong arms and thick back as he swung his axe. Finally, getting around his peripheral he finally noticed me and jumped.
After a brief explanation, and many many apologies, we were sitting in this man's front room while he prepared us a meal. I think it was finally being somewhere safe that let Kyra finally let her guard down. She devolved into a full-fledged panic attack. Our resident lumberjack, Colby as he told us, was very kind. He mostly stayed away cooking in the kitchen and allowing me to handle it. He did interject to approach and offer the thing that helped him for his anxiety, a joint.
Kira and I stepped out to the balcony. I know that marijuana has helped her in the past, and within five or ten minutes she was calming down. After a meal, and as the weed was settling into our system, I found that I had been wound too tightly as well. Colby showed us into one of the guest bedrooms, and let us sleep for a while.