Ten Mountain Men's Baby (Love by Numbers 9)

Not to be discouraged, I figured I’d worry about that later, after I’d had a dip in some fresh, clean water. I set out in search of the babbling brook, skipping down slopes and following the bend of the land as the sound of rippling water grew more and more distinct.

At first, I was slightly disappointed when I reached the creek. It was little more than a narrow bed of rocks with thin streams of water navigating around them, certainly not enough to swim in and doubtfully enough for a decent bath. Nevertheless, I followed the stream down, conscious that I was drifting farther and farther away from the trail. As I walked, the stream gradually widened, offering pools of clear water. I talked myself into continuing farther still, in the hope that it would turn into a full-fledged river.

My optimism was rewarded not five minutes later. I hit a stretch of running water deep enough to submerge in. I took off my shirt, crouched by the bank, and gave myself a quick splash bath. Though the air was cool and the water very cold—too cold for a reasonable man to bathe in—I had walked all the way down here to have a swim, and I wasn’t going to let good sense stop me.

I was alone, not another soul within miles, so, without hesitation, I stripped, grabbed a bar of soap from my backpack, and dove in. The water was so shockingly cold that I let out a howl that reverberated along the surrounding cliffs and echoed off the distant hills.

I’d been brave enough to dive in but not foolish enough to stay in the water for long. I gave myself a quick and much-needed bath, rinsed off, and hurried back to the bank to dry off.

Naked, in the wild, not a soul in sight—it was quite an exhilarating feeling, one I didn’t want to let go of so soon. By the time I had more or less dried off, I had acclimated to the cool air. The sun was still out, so I laid myself down on a slab of rock jetting off the bank. Best let the sun finish drying me off rather than get back into my dirty clothes still wet.

I had already fallen behind my target itinerary with the late start I had gotten leaving Suches, the subsequent tangents I’d gone off on the following days, and now this detour at the creek. I lay there, calculating how fast and for how long I’d need to hike to make up the difference. There was no use. I resigned to simply arriving in Franklin a day later than planned. And I was fine with that. After all, the schedule I’d set and the appointments I’d made ahead of time were all approximate anyway.

I heard rustling coming from the bank farther downstream. I sat up and peered off in that direction. Though it was a straight line of vision, the sun glistening off the water was bright and made it difficult to see. I wondered what kind of animal would be by the bank of a river, yet surprisingly I was more curious than worried.

A few moments and a bit more rustling later, my curiosity was piqued even further. From out of the brush appeared a figure. It was the figure of a hiker, of a female hiker. I was naked and lying on a rock, pretty much exposed, but she was at such a distance I doubted whether or not she could really get a good look at me.

I shielded my eyes from the sun, yet I still managed to get only a faint, blurred look at her. She’d set down her backpack and was crouching by the bank, splashing herself much like I had done. I wondered if she, too, would get naked and go for a dip.

Staring from such a distance was making my eyes sore. I contemplated whether to get dressed and go down to her or remain where I was. The thought also occurred to me that she was only a mirage: my contact-craving mind conjuring the form of a young woman bathing by the riverside. Either way, I was happy for the distraction.

I watched and waited, hoping she’d disrobe or come toward me, or both. Instead, she stood and looked my way, shielding her eyes much like I was.

I lifted a hand and waved.

She waved back.

Since I hadn’t yet lost my city manners, and because I had started shivering from the cold, I slipped on a pair of boxers—clean ones; I was ever the optimist.

Again, my optimism was rewarded as she strapped on her backpack and came walking my way.

It would have been awkward for me to get dressed quickly. So, instead, I played it cool and laid myself back down onto the slab of rock, pretending to soak in the rays of the sun, but in actuality, I was freezing.