Day three of work camp at Summer Breeze was largely unsupervised, as Doug came by only occasionally to check our progress. "We didn't accomplish much yesterday. Let's put our backs into this today," he commented. We observed Janice, from a distance, teaching her niece tie-dyeing outside, near the lodge. "Let's tie her up to die," Robin sneered when Doug departed. "This is bullshit!" Kool-hand Molly proclaimed. "I'm calling my parents and checking us into a real hotel. I'm not a maid or a maintenance man. She threw down her shovel and took off toward the house. "Beats digging our way out of here," Robin said, slamming her shovel into the muddy ditch. We followed behind Molly.

Janice glanced up from a bucket of dyed garments as we burst through the front, kitchen entrance. Donna was cross-stitching something on the couch in the adjoining great-room. "Don't worry, I'm calling collect," Molly shouted as she dialed the phone. Janice walked in as Molly began a conversation with the other end of the phone-line. "What's going on?" Janice wondered out loud. "I don't think this working vacation is working out," I said. "Guys, I'm sorry. You know, I'd be helping you. But these stupid big boobs get in my way. I have back problems, you know," Janice touched her mountains in a sheepish explanation.

"I think you have a much bigger problem than your boobs. I think you are a pathological liar." Robin finally said what Molly and I were also thinking. "Who's watching Summer?" Donna called from the other room. That was Janice's opportunity to retreat outside, avoiding further confrontation.

.

Over tuna-and-egg-salad sandwiches Molly filled us in on the escape plan. "My mom said that a hotel won't allow a minor to check in without an adult. She said if I'm ready to come home, just come home. I told her what a nightmare the bus ride was. So, she said she'd get me a plane ticket. She's checking the flight schedules and everything."

Although we were a bit deflated by Molly's plan to leave, we kept our afternoon plan, a hike to the legendary hot springs. We sprayed our hair with Sun-In and our bodies with Off and took off in the direction Doug told us would lead to the springs. Hiking without hitching was pretty tiresome and the beauty of our surrounding was lost, because we were afraid we were lost.

"I can't believe no cars have gone by," Janice said, panting. "How long have we been walking?"  Molly checked her watch. "An hour-and-a-half." I asked, more rhetorically, "How stupid were we not to bring water?" "In the mountains there are plenty of fresh streams, DC," Janice, the mountain expert, said. Another half-hour went by before we found one. I was the first to scoop my hands into the coldness and slurp down nature's thirst quencher. I promptly threw up. "Uh, how was it DC, pretty good?"  Robin and her sarcasm. I would have laughed but I was afraid I might puke again. "Look, a sign," Janice screamed. "Only a half-a-mile to the hot springs."

The springs were reputed to heat to between 100 and 110 degrees and there were also colder springs to cool down in. About fifteen naked people, mostly adults, were floating and soaking when we made the spring scene. We did a quick huddle and decided to stick together like glue and to bolt if anything weird happened. We shyly entered nature's pool. Being the only hot-springers in bathing suits, we were an oddity. The naked people stared curiously at us. We tried not to return their gazes. Instead we clung to the side of a rock, bodies turned facing away from the pool.

"Girls, don't you know the lime in the springs will fade those pretty bathing suits," a male voice from behind us boomed. We slowly turned to see a thickly bearded, hairy-bodied Grizzly Adams stand-in, standing waist deep in the water. "Thanks for the warning," Robin said. He climbed up on the edge of the pool on a rock nearby. His back to us showed his hairiness was not just one-sided. We stifled giggles at the sight. As he turned to face us we were horror-struck. None of us were experts on male genitalia, with the possible exception of Janice. Yet, we knew there was something seriously wrong. His testicles were the size of small kittens. We practically swam to an open bank area and headed for our clothing pile.

"Elephantiasis of the nuts," Robin diagnosed. We shot her quizzing looks. "What? We have a medical encyclopedia at home," she added, as we threw shorts and T-shirts over still wet suits. "Nudity is overrated," I proclaimed. We caught a ride with a middle-aged couple leaving the springs.

.

Molly's mom called that night to give her the flight arrangements. She'd be leaving in two days, Saturday morning, a full week ahead of our planned departure. "Robin, my mom called your mom and she'll buy you a ticket to fly back with me, if you want to." I knew what Robin's decision would be. It was the same choice I would have made if I thought my parents could afford the ticket. Although, if I told them about the bus journey they might buy me a plane ticket for safety's sake, I didn't want to admit the whole trip was a mistake and end up paying for it, in more ways than one. I thought I might be babysitting and listening to parental lectures the rest of my high school life. Janice and I decided to reschedule our bus ride home to leave on Monday.

Friday morning Aunt Donna told us to go exercise the horses instead of digging the ditch. She must have softened after Molly's cry for help. We took turns riding the horses, took a sauna and then recovered our stash of Coors from the creek for our last night together on the deck.

Copyright © DC Stanfa 2003