Chapter Text
Waverly took a deep breath, dropping her shoulders and swinging her arms a little with the exhale, before she reached into the back of the Jeep and hefted her pack. Her nerves were higher than she’d thought they’d be, and she chided herself for her butterflies: the first day on trail was exciting, she told herself sternly, and she certainly had no reason to be anxious about spending the next week with people she’d never met before. Everyone liked her, why was she worried if they would like her? It was going to be fun. Fun, dammit, and she’d get a chance to make lots of observations, and anyway she was totally ready to get out of town for a while and do work in the backcountry. “Okay. Here we go,” she murmured to herself, mentally running through her pre-trip checklist one more time. Satisfied, she locked up the Jeep and began the short trudge over to the administrative HQ building, where she was meeting up with her group.
She spotted the small cluster of people shuffling around on the ragged-looking lawn by the front porch railing, their gear and tools piled on a nearby picnic table. A tall redhead looked up from the group and their eyes met; a moment later, she was striding over, a welcoming smile on her face. “Hello, you must be Waverly,” she said as she extended her hand, her grip warm and firm. “I’m Nicole, Nicole Haught.”
“Uh, hi,” said Waverly, a bit dazzled by the smile Nicole was still offering. “Thanks so much for letting me come along with your crew.” She looked the redhead up and down, in quick appraisal. She looked strong and capable and fit, and she was neatly dressed in the regulation summer work uniform, just like Waverly was, sturdy olive drab pants paired with a lightweight tan shirt, the emblem patch proudly displayed on the shoulder and nametape neatly stitched over the right breast, and no badge to get in the way of a backpack’s wide straps. While the regs called for all uniform buttons to be fastened except the top one, Nicole’s shirt had two buttons undone, and the thought flashed through Waverly’s mind: it was both a violation, and not a bad look on her.
“Glad to have you with us,” said Nicole, as she finally released Waverly’s hand. Waverly immediately felt a moment of strange, subtle sadness, like she missed the warmth of skin pressed into hers. She gave a tiny shake of her head as Nicole went on talking. “We’re just now waiting for Lonnie to bring up the van, he’ll give us a lift to the trailhead. The kids are all briefed.” Nicole lifted her hat, the lightweight straw Stetson some rangers wore in hot weather instead of the formal, familiar campaign hat, to run a hand through medium-short wavy hair, before settling it atop her head again. “Do you have any questions, requests, stuff like that while we’re waiting?”
“Nope,” replied Waverly. She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing at her backpack. “Got everything I need, ready to roll.”
“Great, that’s great.” Nicole waved her hand, a small let’s-walk gesture, and they started back toward the group side-by-side. “Let’s get you introduced to everybody, okay? And you can set your pack down on this bench. Here, let me help you.”
Waverly felt some of the awkward weight taken off her hips as she twisted out of the pack, as Nicole grasped and lifted from the top handle. Suddenly it was easy to shed the load and drop it gently to rest on the bench seat, instead of wrestling the full multi-day rig into submission like she usually did. She sighed, feeling a little spoiled by the assistance and not really minding. “Oh. Thank you.”
“No problem. I got you,” said Nicole, her thousand-watt smile blooming across her face again. Waverly grinned back, inexplicably filled with happiness at the sight of that dimple so charmingly unfurling, and those kind brown eyes. Yeah, okay, she thought, this trip maybe won’t be so bad.
*****
Nicole handled the introductions efficiently, with enough pause between each name so Waverly could commit it to memory while solemnly shaking hands with each young person. At least, she tried really hard to get their names in her head. Patti, April, Summer, Kath, Amber, Lindsay … she’d have it by the end of the day. As it turned out, they had driven up from one of the regional high schools, their class having won a small contest to secure spots in the park’s “Become A Trail Volunteer” program. They were eager and excited for the hard physical work in front of them, high on the promise of a new adventure.
Nicole’s introduction of her was almost enough to turn her suddenly shy. “And this is Waverly Earp, also a ranger at the park here, specializing in eco-research. She’s been leading a key study about recovery of at-risk animal species in the subalpine zone, and speaks internationally about innovations in conservation strategies. She’ll be accompanying us and working in the same areas we’re in, but while we’re haulin’ rocks, she’ll be doing important science.” Nicole’s eyes twinkled as she addressed her crew. “If she asks you for your help with anything, I’d like you to give her all the assistance you can, okay?” They chorused their assent.
Wondering how Nicole had managed to cobble together such a flattering intro, Waverly ducked her head and thanked the group, and by then the van had pulled up. Everyone set to loading up their gear and tools, and piling into the seats for the short ride. As the crew leader, Nicole took the passenger seat up front, while Waverly slid into the back with the teenagers. They immediately began to pepper her with questions.
“So, Ranger Earp, what animals are you studying? Is it bears?” Amber asked excitedly.
“Or wolves?” added Patti.
“Or maybe eagles,” threw in Summer from the back row.
Waverly chuckled that everyone’s first thought was for one of the obvious glamour species. Most of the questions in the visitor center were along these lines as well. “No, no, none of those. The big species are important as apex predators, but the smaller animals can tell you just as much, if not more, about the health of an ecosystem.”
“Besides,” said Nicole, swiveling around in the front seat, “we don’t have wolves in the park, and bears won’t be very likely where we are going, unless they are passing through. It’s not a highly food-rich area for them this time of year. We’ll take the normal precautions, hanging our stuff in bear bags, but,” Waverly watched as she pursed her lips, prettily, and asked the driver, “when was the last bear sighting up in that valley, Lonnie?”
“Must’ve been more than three weeks gone,” Lonnie replied. The young passengers seemed to relax a bit at that, maybe relieved.
“Well, there you go,” said Waverly, “and if anyone spots a bear, I’ll count it as lucky, so please report it to me.”
“But, anyway, what animal are you studying?” Amber pressed, undeterred.
“The study is multispecies,” said Waverly, “but this week in particular, I’ll be looking at frogs.”
“Frogs,” a couple of voices echoed, unimpressed.
“Yeah. Super interesting, these frogs,” said Waverly, warming to her subject. “The blue-legged creek frog, Rana andrasii, is a species heavily impacted by disturbances to the watershed, caused by - we think - building some of the high roads through the park. Biologists were afraid they were heading toward extinction, but with the environmental remediations done in the past dozen or so years, they’ve bounced back, and more quickly than expected.” She lifted her chin, her eyes flicking up, because science. Any question answered brought up three new ones, and lord, did she have so many questions rattling around in her head. She needed to keep this at the layperson’s level, though. “We’re trying to figure out why, and how to use that information to help other species that are in trouble.”
Her audience murmured in agreement, as Lonnie pulled to the side of the road. They’d reached the trailhead, and Waverly was glad that Nicole had taken her suggestion to let her park down in the staff overflow lot instead of here, when they’d emailed back and forth last week. There was barely enough room for two or three cars to squeeze onto the shoulder: her Jeep parked at this trailhead for a week or more would be somewhere between a nuisance and an outright hazard.
“Let’s pick it up,” Nicole urged gently, as the group shouldered their packs and got their trail-building tools evenly distributed and stowed for safe carrying. “It’s an easy day, we only have to hump our butts ten miles up the hill, and get to tonight’s campsite. The hard work starts tomorrow.” Everyone was carrying an extra ten or twelve pounds or so once the gear was taken into consideration, except for Nicole, who had taken a double share of the load. Waverly had tried to talk her into giving up some of the weight, letting her carry it, but Nicole had staunchly refused. “No way,” she said, her smile not unkind. “I know you’re carrying your own specialized gear for your job, Waverly. You don’t need to carry mine, too.”
“’Cept mine is barely more than a notebook and a mechanical pencil,” fibbed Waverly. She was also carrying sample vials that she’d be filling and stowing away for later analysis, as well as a number of calibrated measuring devices, but really, that was nothing compared to all this other equipment. Nicole was standing in front of her, all loaded down and confident and tall, with an axe strapped to her back and a short shovel lashed to the side of her pack, and a heavy, unwieldy digging bar balanced in her hands; in Waverly’s imagination, she looked like nothing so much as a proud warrior, a shield-maiden ready to march into battle. “You all look like you’re going to war,” she blurted out.
“Well, we’d better get to it, then,” laughed Nicole, and got everyone moving up trail. By previous agreement, they set a moderate pace, with Waverly in the front, as she knew this section of the park backwards and forwards, and Nicole in the rear of the group, where she could keep an eye on the rest of the crewmembers. They carried their radios but found they didn’t need to use them, as everyone settled into the hike, spacing themselves out along the footpath without any big gaps opening up, just grinding out the distance.
Parts of the trail were in rough shape. They encountered the first difficult pass only about two miles up, a tricky crossing of a moderately large washout with plenty of downed vegetation from the last round of storms. They picked their way across the damaged section, one part assisted by a handrope Nicole tied off between two sturdy trees. They saw no one else on trail; the park had temporarily closed this route, at least until the repairs they’d been sent to make had been completed.
Waverly found herself relaxing into the solitude of the hike. Sure, there would be conversations when they stopped to eat lunch, or take a water break, or work their way through a broken section. Idle chit-chat about the nature surrounding them, Nicole inquiring how a portion of the footpath compared with prior seasons, or the kids sometimes asking questions about the work they’d be doing soon, but really, most of the time spent on trail is time spent in silence, and Waverly liked that.
The act of walking, with nothing to do except walking, without phones or computers or walls or a to-do list a mile long, was calming. Waverly, always to her surprise, enjoyed not having to look up a hundred times a day, with a cheerful smile plastered across her face. The trail didn’t require it. The trail did not ask where the nearest McDonald’s was, or if a fee was really needed for a camping spot, or why didn’t the deer cross the road someplace safer? Out here, she was able to let all of it fall away, let her mind wander where it would as her feet easily negotiated the narrow path. It was the antithesis of her gregarious ‘smile-and-wave’ personality, and really, she did love all the people she had a chance to talk to as part of her everyday life, but she also relished the chance to step away from it now and then, to sink into unfocused awareness of her surroundings, and let quietness wash over her. It felt like recharging her batteries.
*****
They reached their campsite with plenty of time to spare before sundown, and Nicole set about organizing everyone into tasks, assigning who would pitch tents, who would haul water, and the like. Waverly nodded with approval as she eavesdropped on Nicole lecturing her charges about proper Leave No Trace ethics after someone suggested camping in the middle of a nearby meadow, where the ground would be softer. “We camp and we travel on durable surfaces whenever we can,” said Nicole. “To minimize impact. We don’t want to trample and compact any more ground than we have to, because it can take a long, long time for nature to recover.” She scuffed her feet and tilted up her chin, thinking. “Also, no fire on the ground, only in established fire rings, for the same reason. And you all know where your trowels are, right?” When the kids started snickering, she glared, and said, “I mean it. Dig a proper cathole, 70 steps minimum from water, camp, and trail, and cover up your business when you’re finished, got it? Trust me, everyone will be happier in the long run. If I catch anyone popping a squat and rolling a rock on top of it, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
Well, thought Waverly with a giggle, everyone’s gotta learn how to poop in the woods at some point.
She had brought her solo tent with her, and with Nicole’s tacit approval, had pitched it nearby the others, so they were all arranged in a loose semicircle. Waverly was a little surprised when Nicole assigned sleeping spaces for the six crew members in the two larger tents, with the caveat that they would be changing up every night, and then hauled out her own sleeping arrangement, a hammock system. It was a pretty fancy one, too, sleek and bright blue, with a full-zip protection fly and deluxe straps that would leave the trees used to suspend it umarred. Waverly wandered over to have a closer look. “You like the hammock?” she said, curious. “I’ve never tried one.”
“Eh,” shrugged Nicole. “They take some adjustment. I haven’t had it that long.”
Waverly studied both the rig and Nicole, and wondered what it would be like to sleep suspended off the ground. Sounds cold, she thought. Then again, she generally slept cold, and was the first in any group to add a bag liner when the temps dropped. Nicole must be a gearhead, she decided. Always trying out the newest thing. Some rangers were.
“I know I look like a goofball getting in and out of it,” Nicole went on, “but man, I sleep like a rock. On the ground, I turn over a million times, but this … you get settled in and it’s like someone holding you all night.” She turned her bright smile toward Waverly. “C’mon, let’s go get the chow wrangled.”
*****
The comfortable sound of the hiss of gas stoves, heating up their meals, filled the campsite. Everyone seated themselves around the main cookpot, except for Waverly, who had set up a microstove to the side and was cooking her own, separate dinner. Lindsay, hovering over the large pot, started serving up for everyone, before she looked over. “Are you sure you don’t want any of this? Plenty here.”
It was beef stroganoff. “No thank you,” said Waverly. “I’m vegan, so I brought my own meals.” This information brought a whole new round of questions from the kids, like why did she decide not to eat meat, and was it difficult, and how could she possibly survive without a pepperoni pizza at least once in a while. Waverly joked and chatted with the crew, happy to feel accepted as one of the gang at least for this first night on the trail, and they stayed up later than they probably should have after the mess kits were all cleaned up and put away.
Nicole was mostly quiet. She didn’t participate much, fading into the background as she let her crew have their rambunctious conversation around the campsite, their excitement evident in their jovial voices and carrying laughter. Waverly noticed her, though. She noticed the quick eyes that followed the conversation around the circle, clever in the half-dark of a single tiny electric lantern. She noticed the wry smile that turned the corners of her mouth when someone said something funny. She noticed the long hands that idly smoothed over her knees, nimble fingers picking at the seam of her trousers. And a few times, Waverly noticed Nicole looking at her when their eyes would meet, locking for a long second, Nicole’s warm gaze intense and serious in the shadowed darkness, and Waverly could only wonder at what that gaze meant, and how it sent a frisson of frank curiosity, and maybe some other emotion she wasn’t ready to examine, traveling along her spine, before their eyes would slide down and they would both look away.
Finally, Nicole stretched and declared it was quiet time, and sent the crew to bed, saying they’d be getting up at first light tomorrow, so try to get some sleep and don’t stay up all night talking. The two rangers sat off to the side, conversing in hushed tones, while the kids got themselves tucked away in their tents.
“They’re young, aren’t they,” said Waverly quietly, finally speaking the question she’d wanted to ask all day.
“They are so young,” Nicole agreed ruefully. “The waivers we had to get from them and their parents, just so they could be here - yikes.”
Waverly laughed softly to herself at that, because hadn’t everyone had those sort of bureaucratic encounters with the park service administration?
“They’re all seventeen,” continued Nicole, “that was a requirement for signing up. They all have at least some experience with backpacking, but none of them have ever built trail before. I am going to have to teach them everything.” She shook her head. “So maybe we won’t get a whole lot done, with the learning curve, but god are they enthusiastic. And, like, most of ’em are gay, so I am going to have to watch ’em to make sure they don’t fall into some sort of backcountry showoff competitive thing and kill themselves with overwork.”
This last part was surprising to Waverly. She might have had her suspicions, but to just hear it spoken so matter-of-factly? That was not quite what she expected, and her eyebrows arched up in the darkness. “Really? Did they tell you that, or can you just tell?”
“Kind of both,” Nicole replied, tilting her head.
“They’re just babies,” said Waverly with mild astonishment. She wondered how anyone ever knew for sure, or if one’s heart could suddenly flip-flop and take a whole new, unexpected direction at any time. “Seventeen,” she mused.
“You’re only, what, five or six years older than that, Ranger Earp,” said Nicole, amusement chuckling under her words like a noisy brook.
“Yes, but five or six very important years,” shot back Waverly. Her mind drifted back over that time, with a flush of pleasure as she recalled the triumph she’d felt when the dean had pressed her diploma into her hand, the degrees she’d completed in near record time. Schooling had been her ticket out of her small-town existence, and she had applied herself with vigour, grasping at all the knowledge she could. It had made her into the person, and the scientist, she was today.
“Sure, I guess. But still,” Nicole went on, “I knew way before seventeen.” She shrugged, then stood, unrolling herself out of her crouched position seated on a rock. “Time for bed, for me. You okay for the night?”
“Yup, you bet.” Waverly yawned, and looked down at her shoes, to give Nicole a moment before she stood up herself.
“Good night, then,” came Nicole’s soft voice, as she stepped away from their rocks and toward her gear, stripping off her outerlayer jacket and tucking it neatly away in her pack. Waverly readied for bed as well, crawling most of the way into her own tent and removing her boots, setting them aside in the vestibule. She wasn’t exactly spying on Nicole, nope, she wasn’t a creeper, but she did have to agree - she did look like a doofus getting into her hammock, the way she just sort of flung herself inside, all awkward, flailing limbs before her weight sagged comfortably into the center of the rig. Then, a contented sigh reached Waverly’s ears, a sound that made Waverly feel warm and happy as well, and she just accepted it, her sleep-slowed mind not stopping to wonder at the why of it at all.