Author's note: just a fun little FM romance with an exhibitionist theme
*****
Three figures a few feet apart in a line made their way up the switchbacks. The trail weaved back and forth through the lush foliage and it was cool even in mid-afternoon. High above, the thick mesh of branches and leaves almost entirely shielded the high-latitude sun from finding its way to the forest floor. They were deep in callidendrous rainforest, the most common type in Tasmania, having a canopy exceeding 40 meters in height. During the first hour of hiking that morning, every few minutes one of the students would stop to gaze high above in wonder and point out a detail to the others, but after enough time and repetition, the routine of even this beautiful environment had set in—along with a realization of the demands of the day's ambitious distance goal—and they were now plodding continuously up the slope without comment.
Oliver walked second in the little group. Anna, at the head of the line, heard the squish of his hiking boot every time his left foot hit the gravel, and couldn't resist a smile. During the last stream crossing he had plunged it in deeper than he intended, soaking it and probably his sock, too. She thought of how often he had been clumsy on this first day of their two-day trip in the Tasmanian wilderness, and how this, somehow combined with his always-too-serious expression, endeared him to her. She thought of his attractive angular face and lean build, and wondered if she would get a chance to help him dry off by the fire tonight at the hut. It would be fun to explore what was under those hiking khakis, if he could manage to get them off without falling over in a heap while he balanced on one leg. The image made her smile again.
She could tell by his small noises that he was gathering his courage to tell her something, and was flattered that he seemed nervous around her. The fantasy that he found her attractive had crept in, and she wanted to nourish this notion. Anna hadn't had guys fall for her much in her life yet. She was pretty enough—actually quite pretty—but she blamed her lack of a natural flirting personality for not getting any further than she had in the few furtive relationships she'd tried. Part of her reason for this travel was to reinvent herself overseas—to take that shy girl from Rhode Island and let her take some risks and be bold. To have an adventure!
"Anna," he started.
"Mmm?" she replied noncommittally.
"Midge valley is just over that ridge, you can see it there. We should get in a couple hours after that, just before dark."
They had been hiking since dawn, after parking at the western edge of the little town of Hobart. Poul—their team leader—and his girlfriend Camilla, already ahead of them on the trail, had been insistent on getting the earliest of starts. The three had learned quickly not to go against Poul's wishes. Anna knew he was a bit of a strange fellow, she'd seen that much during his visits to the dorm hall to see Camilla, but now she wondered if there was even more to him. Camilla was from Norway, part of the same international exchange program Anna was taking part in that summer; Anna from America and Madge from Sweden. Oliver was the only one of the weekend adventure group of five who hailed from Tasmania itself.
Oliver continued, "I, um, I just wanted to apologize. In advance. You know, for tonight."
Anna had no idea what he was talking about.
"Do you plan on saying something rude to me tonight?" she said with an attempted flirt in her voice. She was still learning how to pull that off.
"Oh no, of course not. I just meant the midge check, you know."
Anne enjoyed his Australian accent, and understood the words he spoke, but didn't understand what he was anxious about. Madge had told her about the midges. It was a major feature of this hike. A last hurdle of sorts before the day's hiking ended at the hut—a hut owned by a mysterious contact of Poul's, where they were to spend the night—and this hurdle was in the form of a deep and moist canyon called Middleton Valley. Beautifully thick with vegetation and streams, but also thick with clouds of the famous tiny Tasmanian biting flies. There was no way to detour around it and it would be an hour or more of enduring the discomfort of the natural world, the temperate rainforest at that, before the day would be over.
At least that's what Anna had heard from others. She had never been on this trek before. But to a person, including Anna's new best Swedish friend Madge, the cute and stammering Oliver, and of course the brooding and mercurial Poul and his beautiful black-haired woman Camilla, they all insisted it was the only negative of the entire hike, and a small price to pay for the lifetime experience of seeing the beauty of the deep Tasmanian wilderness on this rarely traveled trail.
The locals referred to this place of ordeal as Midge Valley instead of its proper name, and the students had some fun calling it Madge Valley as a wordplay in honor of their Swede.
Unfortunately, as they told Anna, even when taking every precaution, the midges were likely to get into every crevice of one's clothes and leave nasty, itchy bites. Poul and his friends had developed a routine they called the midge check, where a special salve applied to each bite aims to prevent swelling and itching that would otherwise drive you mad for a few days and nights. That's what Madge said, anyway. Poul was insistent that there be no use of the DEET chemicals, wanting humans to remain pure and not pollute the environment. Poul was already sounding like a handful to deal with on this trip, in Anna's opinion.
Poul and Camilla had gone far ahead on the trail a half hour previous, and were probably well into Midge Valley itself by now. Poul wanted to get ahead to prepare the fires in the hut for the furnace, shower and hot tub. It was supposed to be no small feat of engineering what Poul's friend had built there over the years. Nobody knew how Poul got to know this Tasmanian local, but nobody knew much of anything about Poul, or for that matter much of anything that Poul did.
She continued walking, rounding the final switchback to the long uphill she could see spreading out before her, that led to the ridge just in front of the buggy valley. She wanted to understand what was just said.
"Oliver, what are you talking about?"
"Well, I mean, I don't really know you very well, and you are a pretty girl, if you don't mind me saying so."
A hazy thought started to form in Anna's mind. She stopped in the middle of the track, holding up both Oliver and Madge, who was directly behind him.