The bus jerked as it started to move. I looked at the sign, fingers reaching for my blouse.
+
The sound of the bus faded away, leaving me in the most perfect silence I’d ever been part of. For a moment or two, there wasn’t even the sound of the wind and all I could hear was my heart pounding.
I looked around. The gravel road, while passable enough, was narrow and rutted, like a seldom-used lumbering road. Second-growth pine trees rose on either side and I didn’t think I could see twenty feet through them.
I unbuckled the bag, pulled out the map and unfolded it. I checked my control sheet, found where my start point was supposed to be on the map and ran my forefinger from there to the two concentric circles indicating the finish point. Presuming I was standing where I thought I was, the finish point was no more than a quick hour-long hike.
Only an hour, but that was if I didn’t bother hitting hit any of the control points – and I needed them. I looked around for a better place to spread things out. Nope — no flat rocks, no logs, no convenient stump. I shrugged, stepped off the road and spread out the map on the dusty grass.
There was nothing that I could see to take a bearing on and nothing on the map to suggest one, either. Why make it easy, right? On the other hand, the bus had indeed turned around a bend in the direction shown on the map, so I was pretty confident that I was where I was supposed to be. I hadn’t noticed any mosquitos, which was also encouraging.
I checked the map for information on magnetic declination, did some mental math. The world revolves around its axis, the true north pole. Compass needles on the other hand point to the magnetic north pole, a different place which is constantly moving. Right then, it was maybe 350 kilometers south of Santa’s Palace. Depending on where you are, that difference and some dense bush can get you thoroughly lost. I was happy to see that my compass had already been adjusted. Never taken anything for granted.
I marked my control points on the map with the pencil. Finished, I rechecked everything; this would not be a good time to be heading in the wrong direction. I tried to see if the best route automatically suggested itself. It rarely did and today was no exception. I guessed I had eight or ten kilometers ahead of me, if I didn’t get lost or take any detours.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, smiled.
Piece of cake, Katie! You’ll be first in.
Then, I wonder what his name is?
I took a sip of water, packed everything up, slung the bag over one shoulder and, keeping my ear open for approaching vehicles, started trotting down the road.
When I got around the curve 500 meters later, I saw the T-junction I’d expected not far beyond. I dug out the map again, kept the compass handy.
The first control point — and here I checked my list to be sure — was almost due west of where I was, maybe a kilometer away. The map showed two reasonable-sized hills; the control point should be behind the larger, northern one. I looked up, smiled as my eyes found them dead ahead of me. It would be obvious to just head between them, yet it seemed too simple somehow.
There was no river, creek, pond or marsh showing on the map, but just the way the ground was shaped had me concerned. The ground between such hills is often wet and I really didn’t want to go bog-bashing if I didn’t have to, especially this early in a long day.
Looking at the map again, I decided to head north a bit, then follow around the bottom of the northern hill. It would maybe take longer, but I doubted there would be a swamp there.
I stretched and took a sip of water. The sun was well up and I decided to get moving.
I took a bearing from the map, set the compass and plunged — in a careful, deliberate manner — into the dense trees. Given the sun and the shape of the ground, I was confident I wouldn’t get too lost. Another road was shown on the map just beyond the hills. If I kept going west, I was certain to run into it. The map showed a bit of a bend in the road which would confirm my location once I did.
The going was easy enough. The trees were dense, but not particularly scratchy and there was no undergrowth to either slow me down or hide icky stuff like poison ivy.
In due course, I hit the expected road. I looked around, saw the bend and walked to it. The grid reference on the contact sheet indicated my first contact point should be just over… there. The map showed a small creek crossing the road. All I had to do was follow that north for about 200 meters and I’d be on first base. I smiled, stepped off.
Half an hour later, I sat on a rock by the side of the road. I looked around me, frustrated beyond belief. I’d followed that creek a lot further than 200 meters. Twice. There was no sign of any marker.
I looked at the map again, took a calming breath. Start again, Kat.
I’d been careless, overconfident. The creek was there, easy to find – once I’d gone 75 meters past the one I’d been following. There were two of them and only one was shown on the map. Maybe something had happened upstream since the map was printed, maybe the aerial survey had been done in a dry season. It happens. I, of course, had been following the wrong stream.
Ten minutes later, I was in a clearing, looking down at a post driven into the ground. Nailed to it was an orange and white plate with the number ’12’ written in large numerals.
Grinning happily, I took out my pencil and carefully wrote ’12’ on one corner of the map. I needed to remember it.
+
“You put all your clothes in a box on the bus,” Erin had said, “fastened with a combination lock. Each of your control points has one of the numbers to open the lock. You could cut straight to the finish line if you had to or wanted to, but you couldn’t open the lock.”
She giggled. “And they probably wouldn’t give you your clothes until everybody else arrives.”
+
I was feeling pretty good now. Yes, it had been a silly mistake, but I’d figured it out. That was in fact one of the main reasons I enjoyed this sort of thing. Not only was it good exercise out in fresh air, but it also made me think.
Not entirely to my surprise, I also found my libido was returning. The frustration of thrashing up and down the wrong creek had locked it away in its own ammo can, but, lying there in a clearing full of wildflowers, I felt that old tingle returning.
I looked around – nothing, nobody, nada. I smiled, ran my hands over my tummy, higher, cupped my breasts. I caught my nipples between forefingers and thumbs, rolled them softly, pulled them for a second before releasing them, felt them swell and harden.
I covered them with my palms, listened to my heart beating.
I looked around at the trees, took a deep breath. No, not the time for this, Kat. Not yet…
I stood up, shook myself a little to loosen up, bounced on my toes a couple of times. The sun was well up now and the day was indeed becoming warmer. I looked at my shoulders and saw a little redness. I push down hard with a fingertip, lifted and watched the white mark fade.