Setting the scene: Della, Tish, and Ann have left Chicago on their bikes on a journey west to scatter their friend Bree’s ashes in Sedona. A trip along Route 66 from its origin in Chicago to the Santa Monica Pier in L.A. on their motorcycles was the foursomes’ dream. When Bree was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer her dying wish was for her three friends to make the trip in her memory with a stop in Sedona to scatter her ashes among the mystical red rocks. This scene picks up on the three women – Della - who carries Brees’ ashes in her tour pack, Tish and Ann – approximately 300 miles west of Chicago on their first day out.
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Della thought a little commune with nature would do everyone good. At the previous rest stop (Jesus… how many times would Ann signal she needed to pee?) Della suggested a little side trip to St. Genevieve outside of St. Louis to enjoy a short hike and a stretch.
Ann: Oh! how fun!
Tish: (after a major eye roll in Ann’s direction) Sounds Great!
Della tapped the coordinates for Hickory Canyons into her maps and checked the route…20 miles. Highway 30 was a pleasant ride through Missouri countryside with sweeping curves and very little traffic. The drizzle of rain, off and on since leaving this morning, was now persistent.
Della pulled her Road Glide into the virtually empty parking area, backing expertly into a space as Tish swung easily into the slot next to her. The two of them dismounted and started pulling off gloves and helmet while Ann attempted to back her Wide Glide into the space next to Tish. After three failed attempts, Ann pulled forward into the next row of spaces out of frustration.
Dark clouds thickened overhead as the trio – still wearing their rain gear – assembled at the trailhead. The entire area looked deserted, the trail overgrown and unkept. Della seemed to be on a mission to stretch her achy hips and let off a little frustration at Ann’s incessant complaints, compulsions, and need to pee every 50 miles. She walked right past the sign at the trailhead, which was virtually hidden by overgrown foliage, Tish and Ann following, without bothering to read closely:
‘Slippery Rocks’
‘Steep Bluffs’
‘Wet Creek Crossing’
‘Moderately Difficult’
Ann: Hey! Della! I think this sign warns of slippery rocks!
Ann could see Della wasn’t stopping and she didn’t want to be left behind, so she hustled to keep up.
Della: My hips need a stretch! Let’s walk.
Ann: That trail and the rocks are slippery in this drizzle, you could break a hip!
Della ignored her as she stomped through the thick layer of leaves on the trail which sloped in a downward direction into a thick canopy of trees . Other than their boots on wet leaves (and Ann’s intermittent whining) the forest was silent, interrupted only by the soft ‘plop’ of moisture dripping off the trees.
Tish was snapping pictures.
Tish (stopped at a particularly sinister looking rock overhang that created a cave-like crevice, it’s depts receding into the blackness): This is like a medieval rain forest! Look Ann! A cave! If it rains too hard we can take shelter in there!
Ann: (visibly horrified at the thought) Right Tish. I don’t do caves; Christ almighty imagine the spiders and other creepy things slithering around in there. Maybe we should turn back.
Della: Stay together girls and watch where you are stepping, the rocks are slippery.
Ann: I really don‘t think this is a good idea!
As she struggled to keep up with Della and Tish’s long strides.
Della picked her way carefully down the stone steps, broken by gnarled tree roots and slick with wet moss. Damn if she was going to admit Ann was right. Sweat ran in rivulets down her back as the rain gear was like a sauna with the outside humidity and the stillness of the thick, saturated forest.
Tish (still snapping pictures): God this is so serene in here! I wonder how old this forest is. Just look at the huge leaves on this vine! As she stood in an inch of mud gazing upward.
Della arrived at a fork in the trail and veered right. The tiny sign indicating ‘creek crossing,’ was trampled in the dense undergrowth of the trail, unnoticeable to hikers. About a ½ mile into the hike, the trail turned to mud. Della straddled the 3-foot-wide path trying to avoid the muck while Tish slogged right through it, Ann picking her way ever so delicately on tip toes. The way the three women navigated the muddy trail was pretty much how they each navigated life in general.
Della heard it before she saw it…the creek. Thankfully not a ‘rushing’ sound but the sound of water gently flowing. The three women stopped short at the edge of the water.
Ann: Uh Oh. I knew this was a bad idea. What do we do now? Maybe we should turn back.
Tish (as she plopped down on a large boulder and started to strip off her boots) : Awesome! Look! (pointing to the opposite side of the creek) the trail continues on the other side! All we have to do is wade through the creek!
Ann: Or turn around and go back the way we came!
Della: It doesn’t look too deep (as she too chose a boulder seat, unclipped the thigh bag around her waist and rolled up her rain pants, jeans underneath, in order to unzip her boots). Her t-shirt was soaked underneath her rain jacket; she slipped off the damp jacket and tied it around her waist.
Ann (heaving an enormous sigh…chose a boulder and primly unlaced her boots) I hope there are no snakes. Do you think there are snakes like water moccasins in the water? I hate snakes!
Della: I’m guessing all this noisy chatter will scare off any critters…amphibian or otherwise.
Tish was already in the water splashing and kicking water, squealing like a ten-year-old, holding her boots out to her side so as not to get them too wet.
Tish: Come on! It’s nice and cool! Feels refreshing.
She too had shed her rain jacket and tied it around her waist, her sweaty t-shirt sticking to her ample breasts.
Della waded in, holding her boots aloft, her thigh bag slung over her shoulder, the cool water rising up to mid-calf. She immediately felt rejuvenated after traipsing through the muggy woods for the last forty minutes.
Tish: Look! There’s a pool over here and I bet it’s deep enough to swim in!
Tish splashed back to the boulder and started stripping off her clothes. Ann looked on horrified, not yet having the courage to even wade in the water.
Ann: what are you doing!? There might be people around!
Tish: It’s so damn hot! I’m just going to dip in the deeper water and cool off. We haven’t seen another soul since we pulled in the parking lot.
She was already down to her Under Armor underwear, her clothes discarded on the wet boulder, her breasts swinging freely in the humid air.
Della thought ‘why not?’ and she too waded back to the boulder to strip down and join Tish. As Della and Tish waded towards the deeper pool of water, Ann stood ankle deep watching her two friends splash naked in water up to their necks. Ann, ever the house mother, gathered up her friends discarded clothes, thigh bag and boots, her arms full, and picked her way carefully across the shallow part of the creek to reach the other side. She laid the clothes out carefully on a dry boulder and stepped back, satisfied she made it across the creek without encountering any snakes, and waited passively for her two friends to finish frolicking.
Della and Tish giggled like schoolgirls as they dipped and splashed in the pool. Both of them couldn’t help but think of Bree, their free-spirited Bree who would have been the first one of them to get naked and jump in the water. The realization that Bree was just ashes tucked snuggly in Della’s tour pack hit them both hard as their joyful mood turned melancholy.
Della: Ann is right…let’s get dressed and hike back to our bikes before a family of four finds two naked women on their hike. I would hate to be arrested for indecent exposure.
Tish: I dare anyone to call THESE tits indecent (as she cupped her stunning breasts in each hand and smiled mischievously)!
Della had to agree…regardless of their age, there was nothing indecent about those tits. She chuckled at her friends’ easy manner with her nakedness, reached over and grabbed her hand as the two waded towards the muddy bank.
Wet and refreshed, Della and Tish exited the water and reached for their clothes. They struggled to get dressed, their wet skin resisting the tugging on of tight jeans and soppy t-shirts. It didn’t take long to feel hot and sweaty all over again.
Della took the lead on the slippery trail and realized there was a road that ran adjacent to the woods. Walking the road back to the parking area was probably an easier hike than circling back on the trail. She knew they had yet to encounter the ‘canyon’ portion of Hickory Canyon and she wasn’t in the mood to hear Ann whine about the dangers of slippery rocks and steep climbs.
Della: Look, if we cut through here I think we can take the road back to the parking lot.
Ann: Oh good! A nice flat surface, I’m in!
The three women emerged from the woods and stood on the side of the road, the heat rising up from the asphalt, the smell of rain still fresh. Della pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket – luckily she had a signal - and looked at the map. The parking area was about a mile east.
Della (exclaiming to the other two): The parking area is a mile this way.
As she headed in the direction she was pointing.
Ann (sticking close to Della): A mile? I don’t think I’ve walked a mile in a few decades!
Dell: Well then it’s about damn time, let’s go! Or if you want, I’ve got a signal, maybe we can get an Uber back to the lot ( she said with a steep helping of sarcasm)!
Tish: Maybe we can get a ride, I’m sure someone will come along. As she crossed to the opposite side of the road.
Della and Ann were walking facing any traffic that might be on the road, Tish was walking on the side with the traffic.
All three heard a vehicle approaching, moving in the direction of the parking area.
Alarmed, Ann saw Tish stick out her thumb like she was hitch-hiking and intended to flag the vehicle down.
Ann: What are you doing??
Tish: Someone will give us a ride back to the parking area!
The SUV slowed, a youngish looking soccer mom with a kid in the backseat waved and sped on by.
Tish was not deterred, she kept walking with her thumb out.
A late model pick-up truck approached with a scruffy looking older man at the wheel. He slowed, looked us over and drove on by. Apparently three aging biker chicks didn’t look like victims worth the risk.
Della and Ann trudged along the pavement, their heads down, the heat brutal.
Ann: Why didn’t we think of bringing water?
Then Della heard a vehicle stop behind them, she turned to see a beat-up truck, a middle age man at the wheel. Tish was triumphant in her quest to thumb a ride.
Tish (waving to Della and Ann) : Hey girls…come on! He said he would take us back to the parking lot!
Della looked at Ann, Ann looked nauseous and Della had to admit Tish was reckless. But there were three of them and one of him, how bad could it get?
As Della approached the driver side of the truck she called to Tish: Hang on, I’ll sit next to the driver!
Della had that niggly feeling in the pit of her stomach, but the scene was unfolding before her so quickly she was powerless to stop the roll.
There was only the single bench seat. Della slid in first, the floor of the truck littered with crumpled fast food bags and a few empty beer cans. Tish followed Della and Ann squished in closest to the passenger door.
The Man: Howdy girls! You ‘all out for a hike or are you lost?
Della (taking charge ): We aren’t lost, our bikes are in the parking area of Hickory Canyon. We appreciate the ride… it is beastly hot out here today!
The Man reeked of the unwashed, his breath sour, his clothes dirty. Della glanced at his calloused hands gripping the grimy steering wheel, dirt caked under his fingernails. Shit. Why did she let Tish do this?
The Man slipped the truck into gear (3-speed on the column) and headed in the direction of the parking area. Ann was frozen with fear, her body rigid as she leaned into the passenger side door gripping the handle. Tish stared straight ahead probably regretting the folly of thumbing down a ride. Della was on the alert, her hand resting on the thigh-bag strapped around her waist.
As the parking area came into view The Man showed no sign of slowing down.
Della (pointing to the parking area) : You can stop right here and drop us off.
The Man (giving the old truck a little gas): Oh honey, I got three good lookin wimmen in my truck, I thought we’d go back to my place and have a little fun! Hooo-wee!
With the swiftness of a snake coiled and ready to strike, Della pulled the .380 from her thigh bag and deftly stuck the cold steel into the man’s right side, the nose of the gun sinking into his ample flesh.
Della: Not today cowboy. Stop the fuckin truck.
~End~
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