Dirty Little Secrets(108)
“Warm-ups,” he instructed. “Our bodies aren’t used to this right now, and we need to make sure we don’t pull a muscle or something. There isn’t exactly a medic or even any Advil around if we need it.”
“You’re joking,” I replied, rolling my eyes as he shook his head. “You’re serious?”
“Totally. Come on.”
What followed seemed like agony at first, even though I do warm up whenever I go to the gym. I always hated doing them, though. I knew it was necessary, but I thought it made me look silly. Starting with gentle high knee stepping, we swung our arms, twisted our torsos, and even did some jumping jacks and squats before he was satisfied. I have to admit, by the end I didn’t feel elderly anymore, just a bit worn out. You’d be amazed at how much of our modern feeling of refreshment depends upon a shower and coffee.
After the exercise, Wes and I broke down our campsite, which thankfully didn’t require a lot. I was responsible for burying the fire pit with lots of dirt, since we didn’t have any extra water and we didn’t want to start a forest fire. It was harder than it seemed at first, and it took me a while to scrape up enough dirt that wasn’t filled with pine needles, sticks, and other easily burned material to bury the fire well. I did have to laugh when Wes helped by peeing on the fire after I had tossed some of the dirt on it. Chalk up another advantage to his having a penis.
We started off slow, Wes keeping his eyes out for more food supplies as we walked. We had covered about three-quarters of the distance he had originally planned, and we guessed we had about a ninety minute walk before we reached the first lake that he had targeted on his map. I was glad we were pretty close, because I was already a bit thirsty and looked forward to filling our water bottles with water drawn through our filters.
About thirty minutes after we started, Wes stopped, holding up his fist in a sign I had seen in enough movies to know it meant stop. I was about three feet behind him and froze, not sure what he wanted me to do next. Turning his head, he grinned at me and held a finger to his lips, waving me forward. I stepped forward carefully until I was right next to him. “Look about a hundred meters in the direction I’m pointing,” he whispered, gesturing with his hand. “We’re lucky we’re downwind of him, or else we’d never have gotten this close.”
Following his hand, it took me a moment before I recognized what I saw. It was a majestic deer, in full late autumn splendor, his antlers wide and full. Watching him munch on the bushes nearby, I was awestruck. It was so different than watching on television. Even though he was farther away, I could see details that you never really notice on TV, like how his fur was clumped on one side, or how his muscles seemed to be constantly trembling. The moment only lasted a minute or so before something made a noise, and the buck looked around and noticed us. I took a step back in surprise, and that was all it took for him to take off through the woods. “That was amazing.”
“Next time, don’t move. If he doesn’t smell you, he won’t notice you,” Wes said to me with a smile. “They see by detecting movement, not pattern. Stand as still as a statue, and you’d have a chance of him walking right up next to you.”
We kept going, Wes stopping to check out the bush the deer had been nibbling at and pulling off a berry to taste. He spat it out quickly and wiped his mouth. “Damn, that’s bitter. Don’t think it’s dangerous, but I am in no way eating that.”
It took us until mid-morning to reach the lake, and by the time we did, I was glad. Our canteens were empty, and we had walked out of the snowy areas, which meant we couldn’t even get clean snow to melt. While we weren’t desperate yet, I was really getting thirsty and was overjoyed when we stopped and took off our backpacks. Wes rooted around and pulled out what he called the Survival Straws.
“We can drink right from the lake with them if we want,” he said. Taking out one of the thick plastic bags we used for our rations, he filled a bag up with lake water. I was suspicious at first until he stuck the straw in, and started sucking. I watched as the brownish-green water went up the first half of the straw, a flexible hose sort of thing, before going through the filter, only to come out clear on the other side before disappearing into his mouth. Wes took a big drink before sighing and handing me the straw. “Each straw can filter a thousand liters of water before we need to change the filter, and even more if we partially purify the water by boiling it first.”
I sucked on the straw, and found that drawing the water through the filter was kind of like drinking a semi-thick milkshake. I wasn’t giving myself any brain embolisms, but it wasn’t as easy as drinking a lemonade at a restaurant. Still, the icy cold water flooded my mouth, and I sucked hungrily, taking deep draws of water until almost the entire bag was gone.