LITMIR.BIZ

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I was excited and when I get excited I have energy. We would start a conversation and I would hurry further and further ahead until it became hard to talk, then something would catch my attention and I’d look at tracks, or watch a bird, or notice squirrels playing in the canopy. Twiggy walked a slow and steady pace and caught up with me just in time for the bird to fly away or my curiosity to wear off and then off I would go again. So on the flats our conversation had a sort of yoyo effect. When the trail turned and began a steady uphill climb Twiggy’s steady pace kept up and my flightiness slowed down and I trudged along next to him. I became very grateful for the shade and stopped frequently to catch my breath and drink some water.

      “Do you ever see wildlife besides birds on these hikes?” I asked.

      “Oh yeah! I see lots of squirrels and chipmunks. If you watch the trail you might spot raccoon or possum tracks. I see deer occasionally, not that I have had a lot of time to go hiking. This is the first chance I’ve gotten in a long time because school kept me so busy.”

      “Busy? You didn’t look busy when I saw you.”

      “You saw me the few times that I wasn’t busy.”

      “You mean you study, too?”

      “You’ve seen me study.”

      “You didn’t look like you were studying. When I study I look like I am going to have a brain implosion. You… must look like you are just reading a book.”

      “Don’t you mean explosion?”

      “No, it definitely feels like an implosion.”

      “So what does an implosion feel like?”

      “Like the sides of my head are just going to cave in and my brain is going to shrivel up and die from sheer trivialness.”

      “Trivialness? What do you find trivial about your classes?”

      “Like Forestry 101,” I said.

      “What are you doing taking a forestry class?”

      “I thought I might like to be a ranger,” I answered. “I like the forest. It’s friendly.”

      “Okay, so what did you think was trivial about the forestry class?”

      “Well… like plant densities and different kinds of forest canopies.”

      “Gabby, what do you think forest management involves?”

      “Uh… well… the only time I’ve seen forest rangers they were telling campers where the best trails were, or leading nature hikes.”

      “And you think that’s all rangers do? You don’t need a degree to point out trails on a map to people.”

      “I know, that’s why I thought getting my degree in forestry might be easy and I might enjoy the job.”

      He just shook his head that I could be so naïve. “Who puts out a fire if the forest is burning?”

      “Firemen.”

      “And who do you think the firemen work for?”

      “The fire department.”

      “Some of them do, but many of them work for the Forest Service. Who stocks the outhouses?”

      “Rangers, I suppose. At least the ones who manage the campgrounds.”

      “And who maintains the roads and trails.”

      “Okay! So they don’t just point out trails to people. What does plant density have to do with any of that?”

      “The forest is an ecosystem. You did learn what an ecosystem is, didn’t you?”

      “Yes, I learned that way back in Biology 101.”

      “The forest service is in charge of this ecosystem and every part of it depends on a different climate to survive. Every plant that lives here is in balance with the nature around it…” he launched into a detailed lecture and I swore I was back in class again except that class wasn’t nearly this strenuous. “So do you see why forest rangers have to know about the different plants and where they live within the forest they are in charge of?”

      “So forestry was going to get complicated, too?” I asked.

      “If you stay in school long enough to get a degree any subject is going to get complicated.”

      “Maybe I should be an artist. What’s complicated about art?”

      “I suppose you will have to take Art 102 to find out,” he said sarcastically.

      “People like you make me feel sooo, stupid,” I said with a touch of frustration in my voice.

      “Hey!” He said and stopped right in the middle of the trail. “I… do not… have… stupid friends. If I thought you had even an ounce of stupidity in your little finger I would be outa here.”

      He jumped on me so suddenly I didn’t think about what he was saying. I only knew I was being scolded and it took me by surprise and all I could do was react. I have to say my reaction wasn’t the best. My eyes teared up and I counted to four before I decided I better hike… fast.

      “Gabby!” he said as he jogged a little to catch up. “Do you think our friendship was accidental? You think we’re out here just because I needed a partner for a contest? No! We’re out here because I chose you. There’s nobody I would rather hike with, nobody I’d rather ride with, nobody who I’d take pictures of a silly mooses and M&Ms with. You’ll figure out what you want to do with your life. Just don’t think it’s going to be easy. Every major you choose will eventually get very detailed and complex or they wouldn’t have to teach it at a university.”

      “What about geocaching? Does it get detailed and complex, too?”

      “Not enough to worry you. You will decide how complex you want to make it and you’ll settle at a level you are comfortable with.”

      I held up my little finger.

      “Nope, not even a little stupid,” he said and kissed it gently.

      “Do you think it can find a Pink Panther Cache?” I asked.

      “We’ll just have to see.”

      “I wish we could find all the caches in these shady woods. I love all the ferns and moss covered roots and twisty branches. It’s a forest with character. Golly, this trail is steep.”

      “The lookout tower is on top of the mountain so it’s bound to be uphill.”

      “Oh yeah. One time I saw a tube of little plastic dragons and I thought it would be cool to put them in caches.”

      “It would. I bet the other geocachers would like finding little plastic dragons.”

      “But if I had them I’d be tempted to put them in all these little caves along the trail.”

      “What caves?”

      “Look!” I said stopping at a random place on the trail.

      This forest was so full of interesting trees that any place had a tiny dragon cave by the side of the trail. I led him to a twisted, old tree, its roots covered with spongy, green moss. The roots were a tangled mass and glistened with dampness in the little bit of sunlight that broke through the canopy. “Can’t you imagine a tiny dragon living in a little cave like this?” I placed a rock on the mossy opening where a dragon might stand surveying the broad trail at his front door.

      “I have to admit I never thought of them like that,” he said. “But if I was a tiny dragon I might choose this forest to live in. That’s one thing I can count on with you. Your imagination always keeps things interesting.”

      “The two headed red dragon would live in this cave,” I declared.

      As we neared the top of the mountain the hillsides became very rocky and the forest was

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