South Africa
Part 2
There were so many little things that happened on the hike. Prob was, I didn't keep a diary. For one thing, it's such a huge dam hassle, and, for another, I was still totally pissed at losing the Jeffrey's Bay diary when the diskette became corrupted.
The first day of the hike was mainly the big slog up the first peak to get us into the mountains proper. It took us the whole day, and a lotta the guys were struggling, especially Wingnut, 'cause his bag was huge and heavy. When ever he'd stop for a breather, and put his bag on the ground, the damn thing was almost as big as he was!
"What the hell do you have in there??
"Stuff my mom thought I might need."
"I'm sure your mom's gonna get a fucking earful when you get back," I laughed.
Wingnut looked helluva good, though, not to mention hot, with the bag strapped to his shoulders. His strong, muscular legs would stick out below the bag when he had it hoisted… and his legs were one of his best features.
Mark, with his boxing, weights, and swimming fitness, took the climb in his stride. He was one helluva fit dude. Steve handled it OK, but I could see that he was taking some strain when we got close to the top of the first peak. I guessed the cigarettes and joints were taking their toll.
By the same token, it was a relief for all of us to set up camp for the first night, and give our legs and backs a well-deserved rest. As darkness began to fall, we lit a campfire, cooked dinner, then sat around in a circle and got to know each other a bit better. All the guys had taken quite a shine to Wingnut. Even though the grommet was pretty buggered after the climb, he still managed to make us all laugh with his never-ending bullshit… like trying to talk us into dividing his load amongst us. But, hey, nobody was biting.
The only new guys on the hike were Mark, Wingnut and Steve. The rest of us had been on previous hikes together, so a lotta the convo was about our past adventures. It was only a matter of time before my severe case of diarrhea a couple of years ago was recollected. The culprit had been a chicken pie.
"Hey, Kyle," Gareth laughed. "You like chicken?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Cool, suck my cock… it's foul!"
That got everybody cracking up big time, 'cept for Mark. It took him quite a while to settle in with the flow of the convo. I guessed he just wasn't used to being around so many guys, and having nowhere to escape to be by himself. Meantime, there was no holding back the irrepressible Wingnut. He was having a wicked ol' time, and loved being a part of the group.
"So when's the jacking competition?"
Mark couldn't believe his ears. "The what?"
"Kyle said that there's always a jacking competition to see who can shoot the furthest." The grommet's honesty and total lack of embarrassment caused all of us to crack, but especially Darren.
"Hey, Wingnut, we don't always have one," Darren explained. "Kinda depends on everybody's mood. Anyway, it stops the guys from having wet dreams in their sleeping bags."
"Count me outa that one," Mark mumbled, then used a stick to poke the fire.
"Count me in," Steve piped, "I reckon I could win that one."
But Wingnut wasn't about to be outdone. "Yeah? Well, you'd probably come second after me."
Well, I'd kinda wondered how long it would take before the convo headed down that road. I'd also noticed that Mark was mentally drifting further and further away from us. He was definitely not comfortable with the whole thing, so I decided it was time to change the subject.
"Anybody know anything about the different star constellations?"
I knew that would get Darren going. Within a few moments, he was giving us the whole damn story about how to find the correct Southern Cross, then use it to find our way at night.
"How come you can only use it at night?"
"Shuddup, Wingnut."
Then Darren pointed out the two false Southern Crosses. We also saw quite a few falling stars, plus a couple of satellites. 'Cause of the clear mountain air, the whole sky was like a velvet-black ceiling of twinkling stars from one horizon to the next. I was pretty sure that we were all thinking the same thing… so much space, billions of light years of it, being observed by an infinitesimally small group of teens around a flickering campfire.
The next day, we took it pretty easy, and walked for about five hours until we arrived at a slow-moving river in a picturesque valley. It was such a beautiful spot, we decided to spend the rest of the day and night there.
Once we'd arranged the camp and tents, a skinny dip was definitely the next thing on the agenda. That was the day, it seemed to me, that was probably the turning point for Mark. He and Gareth were goofing off in the river when Gareth grabbed Mark from behind, and the two of them began to wrestle. I'd always had a great respect for Mark's strength, but when I saw Gareth wrap his arms around my bud's chest, then lift him outa the water, I was blown away. And Mark? Well, I didn't need to be a fucking rocket scientist to see that he was enjoying it. I'd always believed that guys enjoyed physical contact with each other, whether it was sport or roughhousing, and Mark was living proof of that. Actually, as the trip progressed, those two guys became helluva good buddies.
There were a couple of things on the hike that I couldn't help noticing. Well, they didn't call me hawk-eye for nothing. Gareth and Darren seemed to be closer than just friends. Twice during the trip, that I was aware of, they disappeared from the main group to be alone. Hello? It would've been too easy to jump to conclusions, but I was pretty damn sure that they weren't on some wild berry picking mission. Nuts maybe, but not berries.
It was also apparent to me that Gareth had more than just a casual interest in Mark… not that I blamed him. Mark was one of the best looking dudes on the planet, with a bod and cock to match. Whoa! Gareth would seize the opportunity to touch Mark every chance he got. Was that a clue? A brilliant deduction, Watson. Anyway, on one occasion, later during the trip, we were all naked [as usual] at a rock jump… leaping off and bombing each other in the mountain pool. Mark was exiting the water when Gareth made a friendly grab for his nads. Mark had a helluva boner already, which may have been the reason he turned to Gareth and glared at him. There was fire in his eyes… I'd seen that fire before. "You ever do that again, Gareth, and you'll be picking up your teeth all over the fucking mountain." Despite that one dicey situation, the two guys remained cool friends for the rest of the hike.
The river was such a killer spot, that we decided to hang there for another day. Besides, humping a backpack didn't seem like a whole lotta fun compared to just hanging loose, and enjoying our little piece of Paradise far away from the rest of the world.
Wingnut stayed in the water almost all afternoon. Sure, the weather was hot, but the mountain water was icy cold, and my li'l bud was almost blue when he finally decided to plant his feet on dry land. He was laying on his back soaking up the late afternoon rays when I noticed Gareth giving the grommet the big eye. Not that I could blame him for that, either. Neverthless, I thought, it was amazing just how much there was to observe and learn about guys on a hike. Anyway, I was glad that Gareth didn't try to hit on the grommet 'cause that would've turned everything around… like nasty.
Gareth and Darren had become buds when they were both seniors at school. I'd always thought that Gareth was a cool, hunky kinda dude, but I couldn't imagine any guy wanting to go with him, though, not unless he wanted to be permanently bow-legged. Gareth had a monster cock hanging off him, similar to the nude model Chance… all muscular and veiny, and thick as hell. Gareth was also a pretty rough kinda teen, even when he was just fooling around. He and Mark had gotten into some pretty serious physical dueling, which was something I would never have tried with Mark 'cause of his temper and short fuse.
Steve, on the other hand, was just so damn laid back. He'd brought a whole stack of joints with him, which he shared with the guys at night, 'cept for me, Wingnut and Kev. But I figured Wingnut would have tried a j if I hadn't been around.
On the third day, I was up at first light. That was pretty common for me, anyway, 'cause I often went on dawn patrols at the beach where I'd sit on my stick out the back and watch the sun rise. It was a totally neat way to start the day. This time, though, I went for a swim in the river. It was wicked! The perfectly flat surface of the water was like a mirror, and there was an eerie, white mist suspended just above it. I could've swum in that hypnotic fantasyland forever, making quiet ripples that spread in all directions as they made their way to the green, grassy banks.
I was still immersed in a world of my own when Mark arrived on the scene. "Hey."
"Hi ya, bud."
"This is so beautiful," he remarked as he looked about.
"It is, hey. C'mon in."
"Later. I've just lit a fire for some coffee."
"Cool." When I got outa the water, I was sporting my usual boner, but even more so 'cause of the natural beauty of the place, the crisp, fresh air, and the feeling of being naked in the middle of nowhere. I wandered over to where Mark was crouched by the fire, boiling water in a billy.
"I need a woman," he said as he saw me approaching.
"Why?"
"Cause I'm being turned on by the sight of you coming outa the water naked. Fuck!"
"Seriously?"
"Fuck off, Kyle, I'm joking." Then he cracked up like crazy.
Damn! I felt like I'd missed an opportunity to… well, whatever. But it was so cool to see him laughing like that. He always looked so fucking awesome when he laughed.
We took the two steaming cups of coffee down to the river bank, then sat there drinking it while we gazed at the mist slowly giving way to the new day. "Wicked coffee."
"Thanks."
Darren was next to appear, and we watched him take a naked dive into the river. Of course, that did nothing to relieve my boner. Darren's bod was at least an eight, and probably a nine.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing. Just thinking about something." I was thinking about the fossil. I'd written to him before the hike, saying that I knew that he would've loved to be there with us. He would never have made it, of course. He would've expired after the first hour's trekking. But even if he had made it to the first peak, he would've needed a whole fucking rucksack full of heart tablets and smelling salts to survive the sight of so many naked teens with killer bods.
"Thinking about what?"
"Just this place… and us being naked and like totally natural… just having fun and being free."
"Yeah. I never would have believed that a hike could be this good. And that's the truth, bro."
Suddenly, we heard a ruckus, and looked over our shoulders to see Darren and Gareth carrying Wingnut, who was still in his sleeping bag, toward the river. Then, we watched him fly through the air before splashdown. There wasn't one of us who wasn't doubled up with hysterical laughter… 'cept for Wingnut, of course. He got such a damn fright when he stood up, holding his dripping wet sleeping bag. Then he started dissing all of us big time, calling us every name in the fucking book, and then some. It was cool, though, 'cause it gave us an excuse to hang out by the river for a bit longer, while Wingnut's sleeping bag dried out.
We decided to use some of the fresh stuff for breakfast… bacon and eggs fried in a pan, and toast made over the hot coals.
"Smells wicked," Wingnut enthused, rubbing his hands together as I cooked his breakfast.
"You're gonna have to do some cooking on the hike, too, bro. Can't just sit there and be treated like Lord Muck."
"Lord Muck, huh? Like who's sleeping bag is hanging on the fucking tree?"
It was fairly late in the morning by the time we'd packed up, and started another upward slog outa the valley. It was a helluva hot day, and, after about an hour, we were all soaked with sweat. At regular intervals, we'd stop to drink a lotta water, and I noticed that Darren was almost forcing Wingnut to drink buckets, 'cause he hadn't drunk all that much the previous day. Darren was cool like that. He knew about dehydration and exhaustion and stuff.
Eventually, we found a way cool spot overlooking a lush, green valley, and decided to camp for the night. The plan was that we would descend the valley the next day, and meet up with the same river again.
That night, after dinner, we sat around the campfire telling jokes and ragging each other. Steve came in for quite a bit of ragging 'cause of his rep with the girls. Fuck 'em, and leave 'em, was his motto. "Hey," he grinned, "if any of you guys want your girlfriend serviced, I'm happy to do it if you're not UP to it." I laughed along with everyone else, not realizing at the time that his offer would return to haunt me.
As the night wore on, our little grommet friend valiantly tried to stay awake, but he eventually succumbed to sleep, and fell against the shoulder of the guy next to him, who happened to be Mark. For a moment, I thought that Mark would push the kid away, but he allowed the little dude to rest against him and sleep. It revealed a softer side to Mark, the macho, tough guy. A little later, Mark helped the groggy Wingnut into his sleeping bag, and put him to bed in his tent.Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories
