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June 27th
We arrived at the campground later than anticipated. The roads were clear until we passed Orting, then an accident brought the old two lane highway to a stop. We sat with the windows down for what seemed like hours. When the day started to warm we had to turn on the A/C. I could tell this annoyed Karen because she kept glancing at the fuel gauge and then at me as if it were my fault.
Once we were on the move again we had to stop at a rest area, waiting in the car for two hours made us anxious to find a bathroom. This in turn led to an early lunch. She picked at a Chicken salad sandwich while I tore through a burger and fries at an actual drive in dinner.
Back on the road we made good time and arrived at the campsite just before 3:00 p.m. Our gear was a mess from sorting through it at the accident, boredom made us try to find our books. We organized it as best we could and then started to hike out.
When we finally arrived at the camp ground most of the secluded spots were already taken. Our hiking guide, fresh from the book store the day before, led us up Longmire trail which was just northwest of Cougar Rock. We followed this for about half an hour. When we ran out of trail a break in the trees led us west to a small stream cut into the hard bedrock.
Karen was quiet for most of the hike. She studied the ground as we stomped over the sparse growth. I knew what her thoughts were on because mine were on the same subject. Would we be able to spend a weekend alone without arguing? Was this a last shot at saving our marriage?
The little patch of rushing water was perfect for our needs. The drinks went in first so they would be ice cold. I was glad to get the heavy pack of my back so I stripped of my shirt and splashed some cold water over my chest and back. Karen smiled at me brightly.
She looked great in her tank top and shorts. There was a sheen of sweat on her chest so I splashed some water at her. A dark look came over her face and she approached me. I was ready to face her short temper but she surprised me with a kiss then she said that that coming here had been a good idea.
Dinner was light, cooked over a fire and absolutely delicious. I’m too tired to write more tonight. Karen is also busy jotting in her journal. We have agreed to share them with each other when we get home.
June 28th
The sky was crystal clear this morning. I shimmied out of my sleeping bag and let Karen snooze the morning away. I know I snore at night and I’m sure sleeping on the flat surface wasn’t kind to my nasal passageway, for this she deserves some extra time under the covers.
I moved outside of the tent and started a small fire so I could boil some water. Sure we were roughing it but Seattleites don’t stray far from their java. The smell of fresh coffee combined with the clean morning air put me in a good mood.
Karen rose sleepily; our morning greeting was casual but somewhat mechanical. She is hard to talk to until she has had her caffeine so I lay near the stream and read a book. I’m trying to read more since she goes through books like Kleenex. I’m finding that the historical fiction genre suits me just fine. My current reading list contained a few books on life in ancient Rome. I wonder what the soldiers from that time would think of our version of sleeping outside.
It wasn’t long at all before she joined me, she had a book in hand as well but we tossed rocks in the small pool. We chatted a bit; talked about the marriage counselor’s recommendation to “Spend a few days alone, enjoy the outdoors or something”. Mt Rainier is beautiful today; I must thank him when we get back.
We walked a ways from camp and collected firewood. Not much was said; we strolled in companionable silence soaking up the clean warm air. Arriving back at camp I was hot from the unusual humidity. On a dare I stripped of my clothes and jumped into the little pool. The water was freezing! After a few jeers and a not so gentle teasing she dropped her shirt and struck a pose. I teased her a little bit more and she performed a little strip tease for me which left my mouth dry and at a loss for words.
I couldn’t help but laugh when she squealed at the first touch of water. I loved how her eyes shot open at the bracing liquid, bright green, wide, and watery. In a moment of tenderness I let the past year slip aside and kissed her. She folded into my embrace and our bodies performed a familiar dance but one with a new found excitement. We were in the woods, nature our only companion. Certainly my mind was aware that there may be someone in the woods watching but it only seemed to add to the excitement.
She circled her long legs around my waist and reached down between us. I was in a state of flux as the freezing water tried to melt my resolve. She grinned as she worked at me then stuck her tongue in my mouth. When she slid down and the sudden warmth made me forget the ice cubes I was surrounded by.
There was the thought of birth protection in the back of my mind. Should I stop and ask? Our desire to have a baby was always tempered by bad timing. One of us would be starting a new job, or the other would be worried about saving for things like vacations, or a new car. Did we have enough in our savings account? What about stocks? The timing never seemed to be right and we argued about it endlessly. But this was like a moment of clarity, the thing that would save our marriage. I smiled into her kiss and let her ride my waist until the water drove us out of the little pool.
We got out and dried off as best we could. We grab-assed a little and then went into the tent and spent several hours pretending we were in our early twenties. At least that’s how it felt to me. We haven’t slept together in several months and it seemed almost fresh and new. Afterwards she rose and went back outside for a while. I don’t know how she felt about our coupling and I was afraid to ask.
Once again our marriage was down to the things that we didn’t say to each other, an expanding void that seems to eat at us daily.
Lunch was sandwiches and chips. For dinner we had potatoes, stew meat from our little cooler cooked with a can of green beans in a cast iron pan. It was wonderful, washed down with a bottle of white.
We zipped ourselves into the little tent and even converted our sleeping bags into one large one. Then we slipped naked beneath them and made love again. This time it was very tender. We haven’t been like this in ages; I want it to be like this from now on.
Tomorrow I will tell her how I feel.
June 29th early morning
A horrendous roaring across the sky threw us out of sleep, our hands clutched at each other. When the rumbling subsided I grabbed a flashlight and went outside. The sky was livid, a bright rip shone across the sky all the way to the horizon. I have never seen anything like it in my life.
Karen came outside as naked as the day she was born. We stared at the sky for a long time, her pressed to my back until the sky quieted once again. As we went back into the tent I could have sworn I heard a distant thump, as if someone had dropped a bag of flour on the ground. I was still a little dizzy from the wine a few hours ago. We talked about the light but I was fading fast and drifted off to sleep.
June 29th morning
Morning was much the same as yesterday except I was slightly hung over. Karen and I ate a small breakfast and talked about the strange thing we had seen. I thought it was some sort of plane that had caught fire and then burned across the night sky. She was pensive and didn’t offer a theory.
We had a sat phone, just for emergency use of course, but I was feeling stubborn and didn’t want to call anyone. I just wanted to spend another day with my wife. If a plane had indeed crashed, the evening news would still have plenty to report the next night.
We drank coffee, and lounged around for most of the morning. I walked a few yards from camp and made a snare like I’d learned back in the boy scouts so many years ago. I doubted I would catch anything.
I joked about skinny dipping again but it was half hearted.
Something had been bothering me all morning and I was having trouble putting my finger on it. Karen mentioned that it was quiet. I shot back the trusty “too quiet” but then I realized there were no birds chirping in the woods, no hoots or cries. It was eerie.
As we were moving up an old trail, the most terrifying sound I had ever heard smashed over us and for a stupid moment I wondered if someone had detonated a nuclear weapon.
I fell to the ground and covered my ears with my hands. Karen was down beside me doing the same. After a moment the sound faded and we just stared at each other. We ran back to the tent, my heart was racing and adrenalin was making me out distance my wife. She called out to me so I slowed and waited for her. Just as we came into view of the camp a huge flash of light from somewhere far to the Northeast lit the already bright sky.
I reached camp and grabbed the sat phone. When I fired it up I was horrified to see we weren’t getting a signal. Karen looked at me and asked what I thought. Were we under attack?
We began stuffing our things into backpacks when the Earth started to shake. During the quake of 2001 we suffered a magnitude 6.8 quake that bounced me around. I tried to make it to a table but ended up stumbling around the office as if the walls had become the floor and vice versa.
This made that quake feel like driving over a bumpy road.
I was flung to the ground like a rag doll. The breath was forced out of my body and I bit down on my tongue. A hot rush of blood filled my mouth and for a crazy second I thought it a relief that I was able to feel something besides the pressure of the ground punching me in the chest. I tried to curl up, to protect my head with my hands.
Then the sound came.
It was similar to the roar we had heard last night but infinitely louder.
It thundered over us and it was an act of desperation that I even made a grab for my wife. If I was about to die I wanted to do it while holding her. I could hear a roaring in my head and after a few seconds a tearing in my throat made me realize I had been screaming. I doubt she could hear it over the noise.
At one point I saw Karen mouthing that she loved me. I clutched her to me tightly and said I loved her back and that I was sorry for the last year. I don’t know if she heard me.
We were battered and bruised by the shaking earth. There was nothing to hold onto, nothing to hide under. The rocky patch we had picked for our campsite was now a curse as I felt my skin bruise and tear.
After a minute the ground stopped erupting so violently.
I lay there for some time, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t happen again. I stared at the sky while Karen lay close to me; her breath in my ear was ragged but fierce. But it sounded odd, as if I was hearing her through a tube or underwater. I knew that my hearing was damaged.
Then I looked at Karen and saw a horrifying look etched across her dirt smeared features.
The sky was turning grey. From the eastern horizon the sky was darkening at an alarming rate. I wondered, stupidly, if Mt. Rainier had erupted. Karen must have had the same thought; I saw the word volcano on her lips. That was ridiculous, we were on the mountain and had it blown we would have been obliterated with the mountain top.
I grabbed the sat phone from my pocket and saw the screen was broken. I could barely make out the "No Signal" light. I tried to make a call anyway but was greeted with silence.
As if we read each others mind we both jumped up and grabbed everything within reach and threw it into the tent. I ran to the stream and grabbed some plastic water jugs we had left to cool. Our cooler also went into the tent.
We sat in the dark for a while wondering what to do. She kept talking about volcanoes and occasionally terrorist attacks. All I could do was hold her and try to whisper words of encouragement. I found that my voice was hoarse, almost non-existent. We tried to tend to the worst of our scrapes and cuts. I hurt everywhere and knew that tomorrow would be even worse. It would be worse than the traffic accident a few years ago, the one that totaled our compact and shattered my left arm.
I’m not sure I heard the soft brush on the outside of the tent, it was more of a feeling as if someone was dragging tissue over it. I sneaked a peak outside and saw that ash was falling. Grey and black ash was also starting to cover the ground.
I zipped the tent shut and just stared at Karen. She looked outside and came back in gently. She sat down, put her hands over her head and began to cry. I was crushed to see her in tears so I did what I could by folding her into my arms. I held her this way for a long time as she shook.
She was scared so I did my best to seem confident. I tested our two flashlights and checked out spare battery supply. We were not experts at camping but I had been sure we had enough tools to survive any minor emergency. This was far from a minor emergency and I began to fear for our continued safety.
June 29th night
Ash has been falling nonstop for hours. Like an evil snow it covers the ground. I keep banging on the side of the tent to keep it from gathering too deeply.
The sky was completely dark now. I looked at my watch and it was surprised that it was almost 3 pm. I suggested we try hiking back to the main camp site. We talked about staying here until the ash stopped.
I looked outside again and rather than slowing down, it seemed like the ash had started falling faster.
We bundled up as best we could then made make-shift face masks out of bandanas. We looked like bandits, it was almost comical and we both smiled.
We talked it over and decided to leave the camp for now. We may need to come back here if we were unable to reach the main campsite. I wasn’t convinced we would be able to find this place again unless the ash stopped. I’m sure she had the same fear but it was unspoken. We started out along the stream which was becoming clogged by dark slush. It sent a chill down my spine to realize the stream would soon be clogged.
The ash was already inches thick on the ground and still falling. The smell was wretched, like a combination of rotten eggs, dirt, and mold.
It was difficult to see even with the two flashlights, so we secured a thin line between us.
Occasionally we stopped to check the sat phone but we were still unable to get a signal.
After what seemed like hours the sign came into view. I may have made a cry of relief at the site of the pitiful sign as it sat forlorn by the trail. I had been holding onto the hope that once we were at our car we would be able to drive out of this nightmare landscape. But it was also the thought of being somewhere familiar, our little SUV. I tried to assure myself this would be possible but the image of stalling on the side of the road during the Mount St. Helens eruption kept haunting my thoughts.
We quickened our pace when we were close to the campground, our breath labored as we slogged through the grey stuff gathering around our feet.
The campground was deserted, abandoned tents lay like mounds of grey and black. I grabbed at Karen’s hand but missed, she was ethereal in the dusky light. She seemed to float just out of reach. I snatched at her hand again and squeezed her fingers together in what I hoped was a reassuring way.
Together we ran towards the nearest tent. I beat at it to clear the ash, calling out as I did. Was there anyone in there? Could we get some help? There was no answer so I cleared a path and unzipped the flaps. It was empty so we shook as much of the stuff from our clothes as we could and sought shelter.
We used the bottles we had lugged from our tent ground to wash away as much of the ash as we could. Our backpacks had clean changes of clothes so we shrugged into them in the tiny space. My skin was itching, even burning in some spots as I dressed.
We turned up a small grill which I moved to the corner of the tent. We also found a gas powered lantern, and a transistor radio with a little wind up crank to charge the battery. I turned it on and ran through the dials getting nothing but the emergency broadcast signal that one hears on TV. After fiddling with it for a few seconds I found the unmistakable voice of the president. The sound kept cutting out but what he said chilled me to the bone.
“Fellow Americans . . . in this time of darkness . . . asteroid strikes . . . near Greenland . . . God bless . . .” was all we got before the signal faded. I listened to more snippets, tiny radio pressed to my ear as I struggled to hear what was said. The picture the radio painted was worse than anything I could have imagined. I dropped the radio and told her I was unable to pick up anything.
I rummaged through a couple of bags that the previous tenants had left behind. I located a pocket with pill bottles and used the tiny light to read the sides. Some seemed for recreational use but one was a prescription for a sleeping pill.
I told Karen that we needed to get a good night’s sleep that I would let her sleep first. Maybe she was too dazed to put up an argument. I was further relieve d when she swallowed down two of the pills. She seemed to fight them for what seemed an hour. I lay near her and stroked her hair, her face. I held her hand in mine and told her everything I wish I had told her last night. I don’t know if she could even hear me, my own voice was like a echo in a deep tunnel. She kept her eyes on me until she fell asleep; she went with barely a whisper. I waited a full minute before pressing my lips to hers in the most heartfelt kiss I had ever given her.
For several minutes I stayed in this position. Then I rose, crushed a few more pills and mixed them with a tiny amount of water. I trickled this between her lips, just drops at a time. Once all of the medicine was down I started a tiny fire in the grill and padded the outside of it with more charcoal. She didn’t as much as roll over during my activity.
I’ve zipped up the tent and I plan to sleep soon. The ash has already covered the tent and I have given up on knocking on the side. I popped open the bottle of pills and chugged back half a dozen with the last of our clean water.
I took out her journal and read the other side of all I had written about over the last few days. I read her thoughts and was comforted by the fact that we had come to an unspoken agreement over the course of our respective pages. The time with her had been very good and it was easy to see how silly our little problems had been. I read fondly over her recounting our time in the water and our love making afterwards. I read to the end, read her fears at the loud sound the night before. Then I read it again with tears in my eyes.
There are a million words I wish I could say to her now, an ocean of thoughts I wish I could share. Instead I will wrap my arm around her waist, lay my face across from hers and sleep by her side forever. |
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