Some guys like to fix their cars. Others like to go out on the basketball court. Myself? I like to hike. I've always wished I lived during the time of the mountain men, where a man if he chose could just live off the land and prove their manliness against nature. Maybe it's because my parents gave me for my first and middle names Jim Bridger, after my father for the first name and my mom's maiden name for a middle name; parents with senses of humor should not be allowed to be the ones to name their children. As Jim was a fairly common name, I was called Bridger by my friends. Sadly, those mountain man days are over, but I wanted some adventure. Being 18, I knew that I would have to start my adventures small.
I walked into Waldenbooks, when suddenly I saw a copy of Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods. Something about the bear on the cover made me pick the book up and purchase it. I quickly devoured the book in a single night, something I had never done before. I realized that I had my first adventure in front of me: hike the Appalachian Trail. It was already January; the hikers often started at the south end in February. Suddenly I was increasingly glad I went ahead and finished my senior year after the first semester; it allowed me to do the hike now, and not have to wait another year.
Knowing it would be dangerous to go out by myself on my first adventure, I hoped I could get some friends to go with me, but they were all scheduled to graduate in May, or were too chicken to go, or both. Mostly both. The only exception was Mich.
Mich. Short for Michelle. A quintessential tomboy who hate the fact she was born female. She would always roughhouse with us boys, even in elementary school. She always saw being female as being weak, and she didn't want to be weak. She never wore a dress, and never showed any hint of a female figure. None of the boys, including me, ever thought about her in a sexual way. The other boys always went for other females who made it blatantly obvious that they were females in their dress or manner. Myself, I'm not gay but I never bothered with females. Never seemed worth the bother.
Mich liked proving herself as being masculine, and not female, so she of all my friends decided to go with me. I wanted the company, so I welcomed her along. I didn't even think about it being a male and female by themselves. We decided to start the trip on February 20, the start of Pisces and the day after her 18th birthday, so it would two adults (barely) hiking together. So on the 19th, all the gang celebrated her birthday, and on the 20th we went to the airport.
The fun part of the day was definitely the taxi cab ride from the airport to the start of the Appalachian Trail, or the AT as it's known simply, at Springer Mountain. Learning the shortest way to the official start of the AT, it took us only two hours to walk to the start. That was tiring as it was; carrying 40lbs of gear on your back isn't easy. I could tell Mich was struggling, but she didn't bitch in the least. To bitch was to be weak like a female in her mind, I am sure. All my other friends would have bitched, so I was kind of glad that of all my friends, she was the one who went.
The first week on the trail was tough, but exhilarating. It was a moderate winter, so the weather never got too cool. Save for one night we got to sleep in the shelters, which provided a wind break. We shared the same tent, as it saved room for extra food, but we each had our own sleeping bag. After all, none of the rest of the gang would think of using the same sleeping bag as another; that would be gay. Being used to not thinking of Mich as female, much of the same rule applied.
Then the eight day happened. Mich and I grew careless. Even though we went into a town, we didn't bother getting a weather report. It snowed. Hard. Practically a blizzard. Mich and I quickly made it to another AT shelter. Noticing something was wrong with Mich, I quickly set up the tent myself. I turned around to see Mich; I did not like how she was shaking.
"Bridger, I'm so cold. Ugh!"
She collapsed onto the shelter floor. Oh crap, what if she has hypothermia? I'd never forgive myself. I quickly got her sleeping bag out and put her in it. But a few minutes went by and she didn't seem any better. What could I do?
Then I remembered. The first aid for hypothermia was for the victim to drink warm liquids, or using another's body heat. As I was worried about her condition, I decided to do the quicker thing and share her sleeping bag. Knowing that clothes get in the way of the heat transfer, I took off all but my underwear, got in her sleeping bag, and started removing her clothing.
Wow! I was in for a shock. I knew Mich was female in the back of my mind but I had forgotten about that until I took off her top and bottom layers. Her figure was perfect. I forced myself back into my job of saving her, taking off her underwear. Her boobs had to be C-cups. I was also surprised she had shaved down there; you'd think a tomboy like her wouldn't shave. I had to force myself to stop thinking of Mich as a sexual being; she was one of the gang. Then, I could not help but fall asleep.
"Bridger, what are you doing?"
I woke up abruptly. We had been asleep all night, and dawn was breaking. All I knew was that Mich was screaming in my ear.
"Why are you sharing my sleeping bag with me?"
"Mich, I was afraid you were suffering from hypothermia. This is the cure."
