Camping With Travis

12. I CAUGHT HIM DOING WHAT?!?

Lacey

"Get me down!" I shout from between my legs at the douche below. He's looking up at me, I know he heard me, but he says nothing.

"I can't do this," I say, less forceful now. I'm trying to appeal to his humanity, if he has any.

"You already are, princess. Ten whole feet off the ground," he says, there is teasing in his voice. If I wasn't afraid I'd fall to my death, ten feet or not, I'd swing down and knock that attitude out of him.

Whatever, at this point I'm not ashamed to beg. "Please!" I put every ounce of longing for the ground in my voice that I possibly can. "You don't understand. I.cant.do.this."

Nothing but silence meets my plea for a few heart stopping moments. Then I hear the release of a breath, the tell tail sign of surrender.

"Fine. But you have to repel down. It's only ten feet so push off gently and you'll be down in  less then a minute."

Going up is one thing, it was down that scares me senseless. I freeze in place, not able to make a move in either direction. Can't he see I'm  panicked?

"I can't. Help me." I plead. Have mercy on me!

The sound of his foot making contact with the rock floats up to me, and I sense him climb up to me. The next thing I know, he's right behind me, pressed close, and his arms come around my shoulders to grip the rope. My heart races, exactly as it had last night when he held me in his arms. I worry he'll hear it, as close as he is.

His mouth is right next to my ear as he whispers instructions.

"Grab here."

"Push off with both feet."

"I've got you."

He is surprisingly gentle for a guy that had been pushing me all morning long. Maybe he finally has some sympathy. Once on the ground he pulls down the ropes and we start packing up the supplies.

"Time for a hike. Ready to get dirty?"

I could be mistaken but there is a hint of sarcasm and irritation in his voice. So much for the sympathy.

"I guess so." I shrug. I can't say no even if I wanted to. I had already ruined one activity. But he should have been prepared for my reaction. I all but gave Mac my psychological diagnosis of acrophobia. It's obvious that he knew I'd have a minor melt down.

We hike a ways further. Travis isn't asking much, and I'm not volunteering any information. I'm surprised that he hasn't done his typical interview, but maybe his format has changed. Whatever, I'm not worrying about it. So far I've gotten most of the footage I need for my segments. I couldn't care less about his, not after this morning's display.

A few minutes more and now I'm facing a washed out hiking trail, total mudslide. I look down at my grey Chucks and realize they won't be grey much longer.

"Is this the next stop?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Indeed, it is. It's a pretty simple trail, although somewhat slippery now," he replies, "why don't you lead."

Sounds fishy, but whatever, then at least I won't have to look at him. "Fine." It's just hiking, right? What could possibly happen?

But of course these are famous last words.

An hour later the Chucks are unrecognizable and I'm covered in mud. It's even up my nose, how the hell did that happen? I slipped every three feet, taking a mud bath each time. But after the rock climbing fiasco I decided to bite my tongue and suck it up.

One look at Travis made me want to scream, though. Not a splat of dirt. Not a smudge on him. Had he even gone on that hike?

"What's that face for?" he asks as I'm glaring at him.

I don't answer, just look at him from head to toe and then back down at my beloved shoes. When my eyes slide up once again to meet his assessing gaze, all I see is red. He's holding back a laugh. And this is not funny.

Not.at.all.

^^^^^

Uh oh. I think Travis played one too many of his cards. This is 'bout to get real.

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