He yawned. “I’m okay for now. I’ll probably stay here until you get back. We can’t go anywhere, I’m sure, so there’s no rush.”
“Okay.” I tugged my boots on. He might not have an urgency to get out of his sleeping bag, but my aching hips and my bladder were pushing me out the tent flap a moment later.
I cast a quick look at the fire as I exited the tent. It crackled, and the coals still glowed red hot, but the flames were gone. My bladder insisted I relieve it first, so I bypassed the fire and, with a glance at the firewood pile to see where we stood, stepped out of the small cave.
“Oh, wow.” A blanket of white covered the forest floor. What I could see of it, anyway, through the heavy flakes fallingthrough the tree canopy. Sometime during the night, the rain had turned to snow. A lot of it.
Turning in the opposite direction I went yesterday, I ducked behind a clump of young trees and did my business as fast as possible. Freezing air on a warm tush was not fun.
With that out of the way, I set about finding firewood. There was plenty, but the challenge now was to find some that was dry. I gathered an armload that was wet and carried it back to camp, arranging it around the fire to dry out, then stoked the coals, adding the few remaining dry logs we had before heading back out.
Three more times, I carried wet wood back to camp. When I went back out the next time, I wandered further afield. We desperately needed dry wood. The wet stuff would just smoke, and I was afraid the fire would die before the wet stuff dried out well enough to burn.
After fifteen minutes of walking and little in the way to show for it, I was about to give up when, through the trees, I saw a pile of thin trees all stacked on top of each other that looked like they’d come down in a windstorm.
High stepping through the snow, I hurried over. “Oh, please be sheltering some dry wood.”
But it wasn’t just wood I found when I reached the pile of trees.
Someone had used it as a camp.
I wandered closer, taking in the makeshift shelter. The trees had fallen naturally, but someone had layered pine boughs and leaves over the top, creating a roof.
“Oh, gross.” My nose wrinkled as I got a good look inside. A pile of food wrappers, plastic water bottles, and beer cans sat in the corner near the entrance. “Why can’t people pack out what they bring in?” Disgusted, I turned away from the sight.
The rest of the space was mostly empty. Not that there was much space in here, anyway. What was left, however, made me giddy.
Dry firewood.
Whoever made this shelter also made a sleeping platform.
I walked over to it and poked through it to see what it was made of.
The top was pine boughs, which made great kindling, but burned quickly. Under those, though, were two long poles covered by a bunch of shorter lengths of wood. “Jackpot,” I said quietly.
Removing the pine boughs, I gathered as many of the short lengths of wood into my arms as I could carry. I should have brought the wood sling.
Making my way back to camp, I did my best to watch where I put my feet. Falling with an armload of logs would be disastrous.
With a couple of near slips, I made it back to the alcove and dumped my load onto the ground, then ducked into the tent.
Toren peeked out of his sleeping bag. “You were gone a while.”
“I was gathering firewood. I’m still not done. I need the sling.”
He sat up and reached into the pile of our things in the corner near his head. “Did you find a stash?”
“Yeah. Some old camp not far from here. Someone built a small lean-to from a bunch of fallen trees, and they made themselves a sleeping platform. I’m dismantling it. Every other piece of wood I’ve found has been wet, thanks to this storm.”
I took the canvas sling he held out. “I’ll be back.”
“Be careful.”
“I am.” I sent a quick glance his way as I climbed out of the tent.
“I’ll get some breakfast going for us.”
My stomach rumbled at the mention of food, reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet. “Sounds good. If you’ve got pancakes and scrambled eggs on the menu, I’ll take that.” I flashed a grin.
