Before she finally fell asleep, Rachel made a solemn vow to herself that once she and her friends left that cabin in the woods, when their vacation was over and they had accomplished what they had set out to, she would find someone to do to her what she had only just begun to do to herself. To take her laying down on a bed of peat moss, standing up against a balboa tree, or bending her over a glacial boulder. To show her all the ways that nature could be the ultimate aphrodisiac. She would find her wild man once and for all. But for tonight, she only dreamt.
The next morning, Rachel and her friends were going to be scaling the largest cliff in the whole reserve: the Agro Craig. “Go big or go home,” they all agreed. And none of them were too keen on going home without some epic stories to tell. Starting with the toughest climb would only make them stronger, prouder, tougher. The height and inclination of this cliff was the hardest any of them had ever tried, but the pent up energy from last night’s conversation and the mist of the early morning were revving their engines like they had never been tired in their lives. The girls felt like they might never be tired again.
As per usual, Rachel was the first to ascend the rock. She made sure to secure her helmet first, and then wrapped the ropes and harness tightly around her body. She secured the carabiners into place near her hips, and her still sensitive groin. The hexes, clams, and the ice pick with the large wooden handle still slick from last night's pleasure adventure, were tucked into her backpack. Everything was in its own special elastic spot. She reached into the pouch at her waist and rubbed her hands with chalk, to increase the friction between her hands and the wall.
She began to scale the craig as the other ladies were still putting their harnesses on and tightening the straps. The plan was for them to climb to the top, meet at the crest and break for lunch and then all make their way back down and around the mountain back to the car to get home before dark. This was the tallest and hardest of the climbs they had scheduled for the trip, but they should all be able to make it back by sunset.
“Last one to the top is a pussy!” Rachel yelled playfully at her friends and fellow gluttons for the dirty side of nature.
One foot after another, one hand reaching above her head at a time, she moved up the hard face of the mountain. Inch by inch, relishing at each pound of her body that she was strong enough to lift herself. There was still a ways to go, and she planted her feet into grooves in the rock face, sitting in her harness and turning her face towards the rising sun behind her.
By now she was at least a hundred feet up. Rachel looked around at the gorgeous view. The redwood trees extend hundreds of feet above them, phallic and hard and authoritative. She had never seen anything so beautiful. Her muscles were starting to swell. Her body was covered in sweat, and the harness was tight around her groin.
“Am I still feeling the leftover tremors from last night,” she thought, “or… am I actually getting aroused by the scenery?” It wouldn’t really surprise her. As a child she was always touching herself outside, rolling naked in the mud and rubbing herself against trees in their sprawling yard. These were things she had not told the other girls the night before when they were sharing stories. It was not because she was shy, or because she didn’t like sharing with them, but because she had forgotten how powerful those feelings were until right then. Something about nature, and the raw power in the animal spirit always got her juices flowing. Now, suspended above the earth she could see why no man she’d ever met had ever satisfied that most basic of needs in her.
She reached into the bag of chalk to coat her hands, afraid the increased moisture would cause her to slip. Slippery was good, she liked slippery. Just not when she was hanging from the face of a mountain by a thin rope and a six inch metal pick.
The top of the mountain was something they could reach. A goal, a point of contact, something to conquer. But now that they were here, on top of it, immersed in it, the mountain surrounded her and she became a part of it. It was bigger than her, and she let herself melt into the face of the earth, touching her whole body to the rock, hardening as it hardened, then feeling both of them soften simultaneously. She was becoming closer to nature, and as it was happening, she wanted even more of it. Suddenly she felt her body surge with energy. She reached down and grabbed the pick, shoving it back into the rock above her head.
Each climbing step was harder and harder, but she took it in stride, feeling the heat and power of the mountain itself running through her own body. Looking down, she saw her friends far below her. She was way ahead of them, and from here she felt almost alone, like she was the first person to ever climb this mountain, the first woman to ever get as high with the strength of her own arms lifting her up.
By the time Rachel reached the top of the mountain, she was covered in sweat. Glistening with the natural result of burning so much of her body’s energy. She took one more sweeping look at the other mountains and the sprawling tree-scape behind her before reaching her hands over the top of the cliff. Pulling herself up and over, she felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. She unhooked the ropes and harness from her torso, and stood at the top of the mountain looking around at the magnificence surrounding her.
“Aaaaaooooooooohhhhhhh!” she shouted. The loudest sound she had ever made, coming from somewhere deep within her. She had made it to the top of this mountain. From now on, nothing could stop her now from accomplishing her life’s ambitions.
Behind her, Rachel heard a rustling of trees. A snapping of twigs. She turned around quickly, scanning the forest for animals. The wind played all kinds of tricks up here at these altitudes, she knew, but the sound had been more intentional, almost human. A few yards away behind a massive pine tree, she caught a glimpse of a shadowed figure.
“Hello?” she called. “Hello? Is there someone there?”
But there was no response. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. She knelt down and looked over the side of the cliff to see how far down the other girls were. She knew she had been way ahead of them, and she couldn’t even hear their voices now from this far up. As she peered over the edge, careful not to lean too far over, she heard the noise again behind her, this time something closer to footsteps. She turned her head around quickly.
“Hello?”
But as she turned around, she heard another rustle and she swore she saw the shadowy figure run behind another tree. It was as if it was spying on her. If Rachel hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn the shadow was in the shape of a human. A man, actually.
“Don’t be stupid,” she told herself. “There’s no one else up here. The park rangers told us there was no one else attempting this mountain this weekend. You’re being crazy. It’s probably just the altitude. Just get it together and look at the height you just climbed. You’re tired and-”
There it was again, leaning out from behind another gigantic sequoia tree. It’s movements were more graceful than a man, but it was larger than any animal Rachel had ever seen. She walked towards it, but when she got closer the figure started to run.
Before she knew what she was doing, Rachel had grabbed her gear and began running after it. It wasn’t as fast as a wildcat, running just beyond her as if it wanted her to follow it. She was tired, she needed rest, but the adrenaline was pumping through making her faster, more limber, bolstering her curiosity above all else. Together, with her closely at its heels, they ran down a bank of the mountain to a clearing, where tree branches thick with leaves obscured much of the sunlight. In the mottled darkness, the figure raced behind another tree and began circling, tree after tree, but still obscured in the shadow. Rachel stood in the middle of the clearing, turning around in circles.