I planned to meet up with Dubu in the late afternoon to go target shooting. Beforehand, I took a nap that unfortunately didn’t last long. I woke up heaving, taking long heavy breaths, feeling as if I was seconds away from crying. The feeling of arousal was strong. I felt faint, as if I needed to get fucked by the first person I saw otherwise I was going to die.
I got up and got dressed. Feeling drunk off arousal, I told myself I would fuck the first person I saw. That person happened to be Russ.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Horny,” I said.
“Want to go on a walk?”
“Mhm.”
“I’ll find you in 15 to 20 minutes.”
“I’ll be at the lodge,” I said.
That turned into over 30 minutes. One thing I hated more than anything was when men didn’t stick to their word, especially when it came down to showing up on time to fuck me. Normally, if a guy was even five minutes late to meeting me I would just leave, however my hormones won this round.
I passed time with Juozas at the lodge then eventually Russ showed up and sat on the bench outside.
I walked outside and he said, “Walk to the trail.”
He was behind me shortly after.
“I don’t have much time,” I said. “I have to be in town by 2.”
That gave us about 20 minutes which was about the amount of time I could handle hanging out with a guy prior to fucking him. We wound up on the boardwalk and I caught nervousness and hesitancy in his body language. I knew his intention was to be strictly celibate when he came out here. I wondered if he was having second thoughts. I was probably coming off too forward as well, but I couldn’t help it. This seemed to happen a lot with me where men would get psyched out over how direct I was.
“I don’t have a condom,” he said.
“That’s fine,” I said.
I hated condoms anyways. He was on board with not wearing one, either. Then, I told him I was still on my period and I guess I wanted him to say, “I don’t fucking care,” but instead he reacted like a little boy who was grossed out, saying blood made him a little squeamish.
I blinked and said, “It’s not that much, just close your eyes if it bothers you.”
He was momentarily fine with that, too, however right before we were turning off into the woods, he says, “No no no, I need a condom, and you’re still on your period.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I didn’t even argue. I rolled my eyes and walked away. I was very used to men enjoying my blood, grabbing me and fucking me silly as they let the crimson red juice smear throughout their skin.
“Oh come on, don’t be mad,” he said as my footsteps walked away.
“I’m not mad,” I said as I continued to look forward.
I was, however, fuming with annoyance and feeling like my time had been wasted. I hated when people weren’t just upfront with me. It was in that moment I realized I wouldn’t be having sex him in the future. It took the bare minimum to turn me on and just the same to turn me off.
At this point, the sexual energy felt as if it was darting out of me. It had gotten to the point where I was actually angry, wanting to stab someone with this piercing feeling coursing through me. I started walking down the road to hitchhike into town, begging Spirit to bring any somewhat decent looking single guy to pick me up. Lo and behold, Mason and his young employee friend pulled up in their pick up truck about a minute later.
“Hop in the back,” they said.
I opened the back door, sat in the center, then leaned over the console to kiss Mason.
I grabbed his hand and in a moan-like voice said, “Mm, I love how dirty your hands are for me,” then bit the outer edge of his thumb. “Take me to the forest?”
I really enjoyed acting like a dirty whore in front of young guys, showing them to watch out for girls like me. I should’ve been more flirty with his friend, but I was just so set on getting fucked as soon as possible that I wasn’t thinking straight. Mason dropped his buddy off at the lodge, then said he would take me to town regardless of having just come from there.
A Glacier Bay van full of people started tailgating us so I decided to put on a show for them. I loved having an audience. I started kissing Mason’s neck, leaving a trace of saliva on his skin. I pulled on his earlobe using my teeth then turned around to smirk at the driver. I perched up on my knees then started unbuttoning Mason’s jeans, making it known to the watchers that I was a very, very naughty girl.
“Do you care that I’m on my period?” I whispered as I slowly pulled his zipper down.
He seemed caught off guard, as if that was a silly question to ask. “I don’t fucking care,” he said then grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in for a passionate kiss.
God, I love older men.
He quickly found a spot then pulled over as I smiled and waved to the passing vehicle. We hopped out and he bushwhacked a few feet into the dense forest. The scene could not have been more perfect. Soft, bright green moss as our future mattress, the perfect amount of trees, hiding us just enough for a possible voyeur to watch or catch a glimpse of us.
Impatiently, I pulled his cock out and got to sucking, drinking in the sound of his grunts. He had to get back to work so he told me to turn around and get into position to get rammed. All smiles, I got ready for doggy style. Fuck, he had such a thick, meaty cock. My pussy was getting fully stretched and stuffed by him. My favorite moments were those first few initial thrusts where it would be slightly painful, but it would numb my thoughts just right.
His cock slipped out for a second and I turned around to see him covered in my blood. It looked delicious, so I went in for a taste with my open mouth.
“Mm, fuck,” he groaned as I choked on his cock. “You’re a dirty fucking girl.”
Blood really didn’t phase me. He laid me on my back and held my legs up with his arms as he slid himself back in. I lifted my shirt so he could have a nice view of my tits jiggling with each hard thrust he gave me. He hit my walls on a slight angle which made me squirt through any crevice that the juices would find a place to be released. The pressure grew strong but he continued to fuck me deeper, disregarding my discomfort. I pushed him off and screamed as the piss shot out like a spray fountain, covering both him and I. He growled then shoved his fingers in, causing me to squirt again. I dropped my head back in pleasure as I felt it run down my ass cheeks, washing off the blood and letting the moss soak it up like a sponge.
Then, he laid on his back and watched me watching him as he jerked his cock off to my face. I placed my wet tongue on his frenulum as he stroked himself, making sure he kept his gaze locked on my sadistic eyes. Then, I took both of his massive balls into my mouth. I was getting so aroused watching him play with himself that it made me want to feel more of him. Before I could let him cum, I mounted him and sat on his cock one last time. He didn’t last long with me riding him. Without my permission, he came in my pussy. I let it happen as I surrendered and sat deeper on it. I enjoyed feeling him lose control under my body. I intently watched his facial expressions at every spurt of cum that was being shot into me. I loved how completely gone he was in another reality, the way he was drinking me in and getting high off my essence—as it should be. I lifted myself off his cock, letting his cum slip out of me, a thick and heavy load mixed in with my blood. A little memento to carry with me the rest of the day.
We got all cleaned up and in the meantime I snapped back into the depression of the world. He drove me to town and dropped me off at four corners where I planned to meet up with Dubu.
Upon seeing him, I felt energized and safe. I gave him a hug and he told me how much he loved my energy. We drove to his house before we went shooting. As I walked in, I immediately spotted an image of a dragonfly, octopus and starfish.
Thank you for the sign, Spirit, I whispered.
His space felt energetically good, noticing as my body fell into a state of relaxation. I took a picture of his dish rag as I felt I was tripping out on it. It reminded me so much of my old house. The texture and even the scent. It read, ‘Oil & Vinegar.’
He made me some quality coffee in comparison to what the lodge offered. Not sure why I even drink it there as it tastes burnt and I feel as if I have to drink at least 7 cups to feel even a slight effect. I’m convinced it’s all decaf. Then, I joined him outside for a cigarette break and saw the bike that he traveled the world with, covered in stickers and places he’s been before. This man knew things and has experienced things I was only beginning to get insight of.
Then, he took me on a drive to the target shooting area. It was where Georgina drove me that one day, the place beside the reservoir. He parked, then pulled out a gun from his black case.
“It’s a Glock model 20, 10 millimeter,” he said then handed me some earplugs.
He showed me how to properly use it and aim directly. I shot my first shot, aiming at a random object. It was so powerful that I became too excited, spun around and accidentally pointed the gun at his foot.
“FREYJA!” he shouted as he hopped and skipped, grabbing my hand to point it back the other direction.
I couldn’t stop laughing like a maniac. He told me to shoot all of the bullets off at the very end, but I was not feeling doing it myself so he did it for me like they do in the movies.
Afterwards, we decided to go to Moose Lane Lodge which was also where Georgina and I had gone but had stopped at the entrance. Dubu wanted to introduce me to the owners of the place so he drove me all the way to their doorstep. The cabin lodge was surrounded by open meadows, mud flats and pine trees. The second I stepped foot onto their property, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Dubu had me smell a bush of flowers before we made our way inside. I closed my eyes and took a deep inhale. My eyes watered as it sent a healing wave of gratitude, invigorating my soul. God, how healing that was. I want to always remember that I can drop whatever I’m doing to take one moment and experience a scent from nature. Just the same as essential oils, it takes my mind off of whatever it is I’m thinking about in a very healthy way. Rather than a distraction, it takes me directly into the present moment.
I walked inside to discover a lobby filled with raw sienna leather couches that circled a large fireplace. Heavy knitted blankets, soft rugs, and large bear stuffed animals added a cozy ambiance. Golden lights filled the room along with natural sun from the large windows that surrounded the room, revealing far and remote views of the mountains. The space energetically invited one to relax with a book or a journal. It was immediately clear this was a quiet place, similar to that of a library.
Dubu went to look for the owners. While doing so I noticed some of the employees in the background polishing silverware in the dining room, smiling and laughing at something that was spoken between coworkers.
They’re happy, I thought to myself.
Dubu found Jayson, the owner, who whispered when he greeted me! These were my kind of people. Then, he took me on a tour of the area. He led me upstairs and through an emerald green carpeted hallway. The lighting glowed dark and fiery. He opened one of the guest rooms. It was almost as beautiful as the room we stayed in for my birthday up in Maine last year—the one where Prancer attempted to rape Pink.
The rooms were dark with soft lighting, pristine and laced with a scent of fresh flowers. A large window revealed a stunning view of the picturesque landscape with the creek flowing through the wild, untamed meadow. It felt like a sanctuary for a hermit like me. Suddenly, I felt a sense of regret come up. A sense of ‘I fucked up in where I chose to reside’ kine feeling. I wished I had known about this place beforehand. I wondered why it appeared to be like that in this reality. Why are we always looking for the next best thing, never satisfied with what we have?
All of these synchronicities and connections started to occur as well. Turned out, the owners also lived in Hawaii, except they were on Maui. Jayson took me on a walk through a path his grandson had made a few days back. It followed a stream of some homesteaders. He pointed out native flora and told me what plants/berries to avoid. Then, he showed me a little spot with a carved out bench that overlooked the creek. It would be the perfect spot for me to work on my ACIM lessons in silence. Pale green lichen floated off tree branches, gently cascading the top layer of the flowing water. Here, that lichen was known as ‘old man’s beard.’ Sunlight made its way through the trees, reflecting its welcoming appearance onto our cheeks.
Welcome home, it said.
Finally, I met the original owner—his mother, Elina. She was just the sweetest thing in the world. My first impression of her was watching her come out of the back with a full and exuberant smile on her face. She had this vibration about her that I could tell people were so very easily drawn to. They would soften around her. She looked at her son, then started talking about how she was collecting spruce tips to make syrup and how the buds “need to be tight, not puffy.”
I smiled as she pointed with her shaky hands and said, “There’s some pine trees out in the meadow over there.”
Once more, my eyes filled with tears. What I would do to drop everything I’m doing right now to go pick this woman some spruce tips in the meadow. Everything about the place screamed ‘home’ to me, or whispered, I should say. I told Jayson what a heavenly place it was and how blessed he was. He nodded in recognition of that knowing.
“People seek us out to work here, just the same as how we seek out specific employees and guests,” he said.
“Well, if you ever need a person, I would be honored to work here,” I said, hoping for any sliver of hope to change my current circumstances.
“We do look for very quiet, respectful, kind people,” he said, “but we’re not currently looking for anyone.”
I am as quiet as they can get, I thought to myself, and I could pretend to be respectful.
They said they would keep in touch with me, however, out of respect to Glacier Bay they didn’t feel open to “stealing” employees.
“It’s not stealing if the person wants to quit and come out to you,” I said as I teasingly elbowed his arm.
Still, I didn’t feel I could do that to Axle. I felt very needed at the lodge, I just wish it were to have been this one. It’s a really easy job I have at Glacier Bay, it’s just so loud and I still end up seeing tons of people as they come in and out. I craved more solitude and remoteness. There’s so much energy and constant parties going on. It doesn’t matter to me when it comes to falling asleep or anything like that, it’s just how the place overall feels. It feels like I constantly want to hide, whereas here I feel I could hide in silence while being completely out in the open. Dubu and I joked on how so many people find the lodge I work at as remote, whereas I feel it is anything but that. Perception never ceases to amaze me.
So, I gave them hugs goodbye. I petted their dogs with love and kindness, in appreciation again of the little things. Lately I’m noticing the words I speak and I find I often say, “I hate dogs” or “I’m scared of the water.” Then I think of my days on the road and I remember those things were never an issue for me before. It seems like there are hidden parts of me that like to complain or want to look for problems where there aren’t any. Noticing and remembering.
We went back to Dubu’s place and I saw the starfish again. I was so immensely drawn to it, especially because it had six legs! He took it off his altar and placed it in my palm.
“It’s yours,” he said.
“Dubu, no,” I said, “I can’t take this from you. This starfish is one of a kind.”
He assured me he wanted to gift it to me. I felt so beyond grateful. I looked around his home and was drawn to the books he read, the same ones I would’ve picked. He had little quotes printed and plastered on his wall. One was about his hate for Trump which made me laugh out loud. I honestly never gave too much of a shit about any of that. Still, I remember, everyone has their specific things that tick them. I have my own topics I get defensive about that I’m sure other people would find funny or irrelevant. In the end, it’s just noise.
One of the papers he had printed out was a description of what ‘love’ meant to him. Another paper was about letting go and understanding attachment versus love. The last one was about traveling and how our life was meant to be for play, that this world was meant to be explored. He wrote how to be a wanderer was like living in a constant mystery, letting it all be unveiled, as if revealing a colorful tapestry.
He said he would cook moose burgers for me tonight. I don’t recall if I’ve ever tried moose before, but boy was I excited! I helped chop up vegetables while he cooked up the meat. The burger turned out to be massive. There was so much meat it could’ve come out to be 2 to 3 burgers. Despite the monstrous appearance, I ate the entire thing. It was so light and airy in my stomach, filling but not heavy.
I talked his ear off about love and relationships, basically opening my heart about the topic and my apparent struggles in this arena. At the very end, I shared with him how finding a man seemed like such an elusive dream to me, but it doesn’t hurt so much when I travel and get to see all the beautiful ways everyone else has fallen in love.
“Maybe I am never going to meet him,” I said. “Maybe I’m not meant to fall in love. Maybe I’m here to travel and meet others, to write about their love stories while I remain alone and elusive.”
That vision didn’t bother me. I knew that the love people shared was the same love I had for myself and the supply to give it to myself was endless. Still, I couldn’t help but dream in my ‘maybes,’ ‘some days’ and ‘what ifs.’
Then, we sat on the couch as Dubu shared some of his own epiphanies about women. He had previously been married for 28 years, however it didn’t work out. He also went through a phase in his life where he hated women and wanted nothing to do with them. He decided it would be a good time to remain single for five years and near the end of that experiment, he realized that women were never the problem—it was all him. He realized he actually deeply loved women and the gifts they brought, it was just his perception of them that needed healing.
I laughed and said, “I’ve also been single for about five years now and that is the same perception I received, myself. It was never about the men.”
“I want to show you something that I’ve only shown to four other special people,” he said.
He opened up his computer, then brought up a four page documented list of things he’s done/stuff that has happened to him over his lifetime. Since he felt his memory was slowly fading, he wrote it for himself to look back on and remember the things he accomplished/went through.
“It wasn’t ever meant to be for anyone else,” he said.
Only having read a couple of things on his list, I began to ponder. It’s funny to see people like us, those who do not live by the status quo get such a bad rep by most of society, yet we were courageous enough to take a leap and follow the calling into the unknown world of traveling.
His writing reminded me so much of Gary McWilliams. They both wrote in a similar manner and his energy in general felt similar to his. Just like him, Dubu did all sorts of crazy shit and went through gnarly experiences such as getting run over by a semi truck TWICE without having ever broken any bones! He traveled all over the world to countries and places I’ve never even heard of.
“Are these places even real?” I asked jokingly.
I was so inspired, impressed and entertained reading through the list. Most of all, I was happy that he got to live such a fulfilling life.
Next, he pulled out a paper map and showed me where he wanted to bikepack next.
“It’s a dream of mine to bikepack in the armpit of Africa, specifically in a place called Ghana,” he said.
I’m really not familiar with Africa at all, not even sure where it lies on a world map, but he invited me to join him on the adventure. We were both thrown off guard hearing the invitation out loud as we were both solo travelers at the root of it all. Yet, oddly enough, it really resonated with me. It even happened to be in alignment with the loose itinerary I set up for the year. (I even had a dream about it the following day.)
“I know you’re a hiker at heart,” he started. “You could always hike and I could bike. I have no problem slowing down my pace for you.”
I figured I would sit with it. I’ve had thoughts that felt it would be fun for me to give bikepacking a try, and lately I’ve been very drawn to Africa, so I said fuck it!
At the end of those four pages, he wrote his future goals, one of which was to bicycle Ghana. Below that was his aspiration to find his life partner. He made a short list of the qualities he looked for in a partner, then the last sentence was italicized and underlined:
I think this is possibly the most difficult and elusive adventure I’m seeking.
I felt my face flush as an energy rush of communion passed through me. Just in that single sentence alone I felt my entire life was put on display. Suddenly, I felt seen. I felt understood.
I’m not the only one.
Just moments ago I had shared with Dubu how that felt like an elusive dream to me. I was being shown that there are others who experience these moments of loneliness. As a traveler, some part of you desperately craves that stability and security with a life partner, yet it seems to be so out of reach. Paradoxically, it is also in plain sight as it seems people fall in love with us wanderers constantly.
At the end of the night we played a card game called Set. It was super easy and to my surprise I found out I was quite competitive when the game got heated. I remembered how much I loved card games and I felt grateful I was entertained by so little. I felt good hanging out with Dubu. From the very first moment I met him, I felt we had a connection through past lives for sure and were being reunited in Gustavus, Alaska.
Dubu goes, “I knew you were the same as me. I knew you were a traveler from the very first moment I met you.”
It’s true. Travelers can recognize other travelers. It’s like there’s this gleam in one’s eyes, as if they know some sort of secret.
I gave him a hug goodbye after he dropped me off at my doorstep. He thanked me, often expressing appreciation for my honesty and straightforwardness, referring to having shared things that were on my heart without conviction. I’ve been receiving that compliment almost on a daily basis nowadays. It’s quite nice because I never noticed that quality about myself before. Something about being in this area has inspired me to be extremely upfront, and I must say, it does feel liberating to own myself and be truthful in that way. It doesn’t feel like it did when I was a teenager and had all these lies I needed to keep track of, constantly stumbling over my own stories.
Just as I was falling asleep, Wildflower came to my room and said the construction guys wanted me to hang out with them. I immediately picked up the vibe that she didn’t want me to join, but I didn’t want to come either because it was already 9 pm.
