I pulled my jeep into the empty spot in my mom's driveway. There was a thick layer of ice and I nudged my passenger side wheels to ride a little on the crunchy embankment on the side to get enough traction to prevent me from sliding all the way into the house. It came from years of experience watching my mom deftly pull that exact same maneuver every winter. I couldn't imagine driving the little Honda that she owned in such weather, but the fresh tire tracks indicated that she had ventured out in this weather by herself.
As I walked in, I saw her standing in the middle of the kitchen, with her hands on her waist as she studied a sheet of paper. Next to her was an open hiking backpack with some clothes stuffed in it. I caught a peek of thermal layers sticking out of her luggage.
"Going hiking?" I joked. It was a frigid New England day with temperatures well below freezing.
"Yes," she replied without looking up. I looked over her shoulder at what she was looking at. "Essential packing for winter camping," I read out aloud. "You can't be serious. They're talking about a nor'easter tonight. You'll die out there!" I said.
My mom was not the kind of person to be persuaded about anything. She was usually the most practical person in the world. The sensible woman who had put a son and daughter to college single-handedly. I think that she willed herself to not have any other choice other than success. Determination is one way to think about it. She was more stubborn than a mule, haha. The occasional impractical wish that entered her mind also got channeled through the same brute force determination.
Today, she was clearly executing on an idea to go camping and mother nature was not going to prevent her from executing on that idea.
I sighed and asked: "Where are you planning to go?" She looked up at me and smiled. "Remember Deer mountain?" I nodded. This past summer, when most of the northeast US was under strict lockdown from Covid, we had hopped into her car on a whim one afternoon and driven up to Vermont. The air was crystal clear and we had driven up a narrow one lane road into the Green mountains. The pristine surroundings and the absence of scowling people in masks was exactly what we needed. We had spent the day hiking through evergreen woods, built a little fire to eat dinner and smores, sat back with a couple of beers until the stars came out. It was such a healing experience for both of us.
That was in July. Not February. "Have you looked outside? You'll never make it up that dirt road in your car." She gave me a look of scorn and disgust. "I'm a born and bred New Englander. You kids these days have gotten so soft these days. Snow was just a fact of life for us growing up. This is nothing," she said.
"Yep. Did you also walk 10 miles uphill both ways to school each morning?" I asked sarcastically. She just rolled her eyes and contined to pack, pulling out a parka from the winter closet that looked comically large for her. At least she was well prepared. My mom knew enough to respect winter and prepare for the worst, but was too stubborn to change her plans.
"Well, at least let me join you. My car stands a better chance of making it up there than yours, and I'll be too worried sick to do anything else this weekend."
"I love it. A mother son adventure," she said, her eyes twinkling. Go get your stuff together. I want to get a good winter hike in before the snow sets in this afternoon.
I pulled out my winter gear, my tent, my sleeping bag, and extra puffy LL Bean Parka, and saw that my mom had already packed a stove, and enough canned provisions to feed a small army.
"I knew I would never starve to death if I stayed close to you!" I laughed as we loaded everything up in my Jeep.
The sun was crisp and the sky was a deep winter blue - the kind that is hard to find outside of February in New England. We took deep breaths and relaxed the further we headed up into the mountains. There is a certain stark beauty that you get to experience while hiking in the middle of winter. We didn't see even a single car as we drove up to the trail head.
We decided to hitch our tents early to avoid getting stormed on, and then headed up the trail. We got to an outlook that gave us a spectacular view of the Green mountains. "You're literally the best son in the world." my mom said as she put her arms around my frame. She was a petite 5'5" and I towered over her at 6'4". I got my late dad's genes when it came to height and size. She was barely able to put her arms all the way around me. Her chest pushed into my arms as she strugged to reach. She wasn't particularly well endowed. Barely an A cup breast, and she had the tough sinewy, athletic build of a hard working, fit woman. I could feel a little squish and a poke from her stubby nipple on my chest, but it was a comforting feeling of "mom". This was the woman who had toiled as a single parent to raise me. It didn't feel sexual at all.
We trekked along the ridge a little further before taking a fork to loop back to our tents. In the summer, we had headed further up the ridge from peak to peak, but we needed to be more cognizant of the weather today. By the time we made it back to our tents, the winds were howling and giant snow flakes were flying horizontally into our face. I looked at my mom with an raised eyebrow. "I don't think we'll be protected enough in those tents," I said. My mom initially tried to pooh-pooh me, but she was clearly nervous at the ferocity with which this storm was rolling in. We knew enough about winter storms in New England to know how they sometimes bomb out and get way worse than the forecasts.
I had jumped in the Jeep to turn on the radio to see if any forecasts had changed and as I looked out, I saw that my mom had already taken down both tents. I heard the door to the trunk open as she tossed the jumble of canvas and nylon hastily in. "The view is great, but not worth dying for!" she joked, as she jumped into the passenger side of my Jeep. She was too petite to just jump in like I do and had to use the little platform on the side to get in with two steps.
We reversed out of the trail head and started driving back down the dirt road. There was already a good 3-4 inches of wet, heavy snow on the ground. "I hope we get back down to the main road soon," I said, peering out in front of the car with a worried look on my face. "Much more of this stuff and we will get stuck on the road."
It was slow going and the visibility was practically zero. The way the Green mountains were lined up, when the storm hits from the right direction, some spots could quickly start measuring the snow in multiple feet. We were stuck in one of those bands. Soon, the tires started plowing into the snow ahead instead of crushing down on the snow and I had to slow to a crawl. 5 miles an hour. 3 miles an hour. Soon, I found myself reversing the car back and rocking the car back and forth just to make it move.
"Don't move. I have one bar on my phone at this spot." said my mom, raising her hand as if ordering me and the car to halt. "Let me call the park ranger for help," she said. She had to try a couple of times before she got through to a person, and she said "Oh...Hmmm...Are you sure...Darn..." and continued having a conversation that clearly wasn't going well. When she got off the phone, she said that we must have taken a wrong turn in the snow, because the road we're been on for the last mile or so is not maintained for winter at all. So, there was no way to get anybody to us till the storm passed. We had to find some shelter for at least the next 48 hours. He had told her that there was a tiny cabin that the rangers used that was just a few hundred feet ahead that had a working stove, a bed, and plenty of firewood that we should use to ride out the storm.
We tried to carry as much of essential stuff we could from the Jeep and trudged through the thick snow and howling winds. It took us a while to find it, but it was such a relief to close the door and get out of the storm. For a little while, we just stood in the middle of the cottage to survey the surroundings. As my eyes adjusted, I found a gas lantern that I could turn on to give us some light. It was the sparsest of cabins - maybe 10 feet by 10 feet. There was a small bed in one corner, a wood stove, and not much else. I got the wood stove going and soon the cabin warmed up to a nice toasty temperature. We finally peeled off our parkas and sat down on the bed.
"This is way better than a tent in the storm," said my mom. "I feel bad having to sleep in their bed with all my dirty clothes from the hike. I wish I could clean up and change, somehow."
She looked around the cabin. "We have a good fire going here. I'm going to get some snow in a pot and make a little bit of hot water and then use a towel to get myself cleaned up a bit."
Soon, there was a pot on top of the wood stove with steam rising from it. I turned to look away to give her some privacy as I heard her clothes fall to the floor. She used just a little bit of water to wet her body and then squirted a tiny bit of bath wash onto a little towel and cleaned her body. She was surprisingly efficient, given the confined quarters. Soon, she had dried herself and put on a pair of flannel PJs. She smelled surprisingly good for cleaning up in such confined quarters, without any plumbing.
"Let me get some water going for you," she said.
"I don't know, mom. I'm not sure if I can do that in such a tight space with you right next to me."
"In case you don't remember, I used to wipe that little bum of yours," she laughed as she put a pot full of packed snow on top of the wood stove.
As the water heated up, I sighed and then peeled off the multiple layers of clothes I had on. The inner thermal layer was already soaked with sweat from the hike and it felt good to take them off. It was also weird to know that my mom was literally one foot away sitting on the bed as I was scrubbing myself. I felt my dick throb a little as it got semi-hard. It was strange getting such a reaction thinking about my own mom, but I figured that my dick didn't quite care about anything other than the fact that there was a woman one foot away from me.
I soaked the towel in the hot water and scrubbed away.
I saw from the corner of my eye that my mom was sitting on the bed with her chin tucked into her knees, with a cup of hot tea in her hand.
Wait! She was sitting on the bed with a cup of tea...facing in my direction. What the Fuck? I thought to myself, panicking. I turned and looked straight into her eyes and my heart stopped.
Her eyes were twinkling. "You've grown up quite a bit, young man!" she laughed, emphasizing the word bit to make it sound dirty. "Jeez, mom. What are you doing? Give me some privacy," I said trying in vain to turn my back to her to hide my stiff cock.
