Airstrip De L'Amor

   There was a period years ago when I spent quite a bit of my time down at the hot spring campsite keeping a handle on things and visiting around. I remember one evening I decided to head down and check on things before dark, I'd probably walked down or rode my mountain bike several times that day and decided to drive my pickup down to the end of the airstrip and walk in from there, saving me an airstrip worth of walking anyways. I got down there and backed it into a hiding spot in the trees, then took my flashlight and headed to the campsite. It was a typical Friday night I recall and outfits were pulling in and setting up campsites. An hour or so later, my business done I headed out the back way to where my truck was stashed.

   On occasion, out of boredom, I would often drive home up the airstrip with my headlights turned off., this was back in the days when headlights actually turned off, and I just had to aim for the bright light out on the Lodge deck. So I hop in, fire it up, roll the window down, and pull out onto the airstrip and begin to slow cruise towards the beacon in the direction of home.

   My only concern would be deer or bear feeding out there at night, so once or twice during the ride I would flick the headlight switch on and off quickly, any wildlife out there would be looking at me by then and their eyes would reflect in the brief flash. So I'm cruising along, not fast, but aiming for the front deck spotlight way down at the end. I get a little ways into the trip and figure I better give a scan for deer and gave the high-beams a quick on/off.
   During the half second of illumination, an unexpected scene unfolded before me, and after the lights went out it took me a moment to piece together what I had just seen. I could have swore I just saw a couple pairs of boots piled up on top of each other, some rumpled up clothing, and a tuft of hair or two. What the hell? I fumbled around in the dark for the headlight switch, locating it and flicking it on. The scorching high-beams lit-up the scene in detail, several truck lengths away, the pile of boots is still there and rather active, the pointing up boots have not quite realized whats happening, but the pointing down boots are flailing around and looking over his shoulder with saucer-like eyes at what he must think are the landing lights of a passenger airliner, rolling over and kicking trying to get his jeans up. About then, the pointing up pair of boots has opened her eyes and realized they are about to die, then begins rolling around on the airstrip grass with the same kicking and garment pulling as her friend. I didn't know whether to leave the lights on or off. I shut them off. As I rolled by the startled, embarrassed, scrambling couple, I thought I better say something...

"Sorry!" was the best I could come up with.

Well that was interesting, and I giggled all the way home. 

That poor couple, they probably needed therapy after that experience.