I grew up where I could see the stars
Drinking sweet tea from a Mason jar
Dogwood trees like leaves through the pine
People on the porch watching fireflies
And driving ’round the Wal-Mart on a Friday night
I’m just a small town girl
And that’s all I’ll ever be
I’m just a small town girl
Hey, that’s alright with me
You can read about the Hunter here and Part 1 of my camping trip with him here. We left off in the rain with a little wind. Not the greatest conditions and the temperature was dropping since a mild cold front was coming through. The Hunter had a great fire going, put up some more tarps to provide better protection and I have to say, I was fine. Really. I was quite zen with the whole thing. People mistake me for a city girl. After all, I am in a profession of suit-wearing, Prada-toting women in a big city. Although I don’t tote the Prada, I fit right in with this crowd. When my peers learn that I am hiking, it stuns them. The men love it. The women’s eyebrows pierce the top of their heads. What they don’t realize is that I’m a small town girl who grew up in farming country. I worked on farms in my youth –both horse farms and agricultural farms. Dirt and mud don’t faze me too much, but I rarely revisited that part of my youth until now.
The Hunter was endearing because he was worried. I could tell. He even asked if I was going to pack up and bolt, but I said no. I was fine. I layered up my clothing, settled into my chair and was comfortable. Comfortable with the conversations, comfortable with the silence, comfortable with the rain. Just genuinely at peace. I didn’t need my phone – I left it turned off in my car. I didn’t need a book or something to keep me occupied. I truly just enjoyed being off the grid, sitting beside a fire and enjoying the moment. I was also much quieter than usual throughout the entire trip. Who would have thought?
The Professor and my son were great buffers of sorts. My son and I have a wonderful relationship and it shows. He is helpful, funny, and smart. Plus he can carry on a conversation with just about anybody. The Professor is in his mid-60’s and he is preparing to hike the Appalachian Trail. That was the source of many conversations over the entire trip. He is an interesting, mild-mannered man with a slightly absent-minded air about him. He amused me to no end. So to be stuck in the rain, at least the conversation rolled along effortlessly amongst the four of us.
But I promised you drama, so let’s get to it. As we are sitting there, the Hunter pops up with a story that he asks to keep amongst ourselves. Clearly he isn’t a gossip, but he wanted to tell me. If you read about him in my initial post, he brought along his wingman to a hike. I really liked this guy, who is much younger than me. He asked me to take pictures of him hiking so he could show his young kids (under the age of 8) in order to persuade them to join him. I took the pictures and then, according to Wingman’s directions, I posted them on the Hunter’s Facebook page with a message to have Wingman friend me so I could share them directly with him. You ask, “Where’s the drama?”
With the Wingman’s wife. She apparently saw my message and went nuts. She accused him of trying to hook up with me or who knows what. The Hunter just said that she went out of control which lead to Wingman pleading for the Hunter’s help. The Hunter refused and told him to get his woman in line. His words exactly. The Hunter nailed it: “She is being too controlling by trying to isolate him and select his friends.” He went on to say that she never liked him from the beginning. I have to agree with his analysis and upon reflection; I think he took the right approach of not getting involved in their drama. I think that Wingman was asking the Hunter to tell the crazy wife that I was the Hunter’s love interest. I couldn’t get him to admit that even though I poked around a little by questioning what the Wingman thought the Hunter could do to remedy the situation. Secretly, I LOVED that story. How flattering that a much younger woman is threatened by little ole me.
This may be the never-ending story, but I don’t like posts that are too long. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about our long hike, my competition and if the Hunter eventually makes a move on me.