My Summer Vacation, Chapter 2
Driving up the Beartooth Highway to Red Lodge, MT was scenic to say the least. The approximate 68 miles of route 212 has been called the most beautiful stretch of road in the US.
The highway, built during the WPA era, is filled with switch-backs and spectacular views. I stopped to take pictures several times along the way because I didn't know when I'd get to see the area again. It's subject to occasional snow closures in the summer as well as being completely closed from mid-October until Memorial Day.
Uncle Walt had told me that I should check in at the local realty office to pick up the key to the cabin since that was the place which oversaw his property when he wasn't in the area. I calculated that it must be a continuous job because my great uncle had several summer retreats, and spent most of his winter time in Florida, when he wasn't on a cruise.
My Garmin insisted that the office was located about a block from where it turned out to be. Either Walt had messed up the address or I had copied it down incorrectly. Whatever. I managed to find it. At least it wasn't near the column of smoke rising a few blocks away.
The note on the door said that Mr. Forsythe was at lunch and would return around 1:10. This would turn out to be the first, among a long list of things, which made me realize the town was much more laidback than where I lived.
In the meantime, I found a restaurant nearby and had a pleasant lunch. The food was rather like farm cooking, but it was good tasting and not expensive.
"Mr. Grantham, it's a pleasure to meet you. May I call you, Gabe?"
"Of course, forgive me for not mentioning that."
"Sorry about being gone so long. There was a fire in a building on Main Street, and I'm as bad about gawking as anyone else. That's the biggest event in town so far this summer. I grabbed a burger and stood across the street watching like a hick. You must have seen it.
"I saw the smoke and figured I'd better stay out of the way."
"You were smart; I suppose there are more things to interest you in Iowa. By the way, you look just like the picture Walt sent me. I hope you enjoy your stay with us. Here's the key, a little notebook of instructions, and the remote for the gate."
"There's a gate?"
"Yup. Between you, me, and the desk, Walter is a bit eccentric – kind of paranoid, if you know what I mean. This place is as safe as anywhere in the country and safer than most, but he's made the immediate area around the cabin almost into a fortress. There's a high fence with barbed wire at the top, security cameras, and motion-detector lights. Of course you can turn off all that stuff if you want, but you will need the remote to deactivate the security system, and a code word if you set it off accidentally."
"That is a bit of an overkill in an area like this! I wonder what possessed him to do all that."
"Oh, he did it after those escaped convicts back east broke into unoccupied cabins when they were on the run. I suppose it doesn't hurt."
"I don't feel threatened here, so I'll probably leave that stuff off most of the time. Is that why he wanted me to meet the sheriff as soon as I arrived?"
"Probably. Barney Ward is a good man to know, in any case. You should check in with Dr. Marsh too. He's our local physician, and a good one at that. He could make a lot more money in Billings or Butte, but he wants to serve the common folks."
"Actually, he's on Uncle Walt's list of people I need to know. I guess I'd better make the rounds so I can get settled before nightfall. What do I do about electricity?"
"You have no worries there. It's hooked up to the REA, but there's also a solar panel on the roof and a backup generator. He's arranged for TV and Internet service. It's all done by dish here."
"Wow! I thought I was going somewhere away from civilization, but that doesn't seem to be the case!"
"We're pretty modern in some ways. The rich folk who come here to ski in the winter want their comforts. They have to be able to keep up with the stock market and the latest news."
"Thanks, Mr. Forsythe; I'd better get going."
"You're welcome, but please call me Fred, everyone else does."
"Okay, see you later, Fred."
I met briefly with the other two gentlemen and got warm welcomes in both cases. It seemed that the locals considered Uncle Walt to be a bit "different," but they liked him none-the-less. I found that interesting, and vowed that I would get to know my mysterious benefactor better as soon as I could. My memories of him were very vague. I hadn't known of his existence until he showed up for my mother's funeral, and that wasn't the best time to get acquainted with someone when my mind was preoccupied. Evidently a cousin that I kept in contact with had been responsible for arranging my summer accommodations at his cabin.
The façade of cabin looked like the picture Walt had sent, except that it seemed to have had a few upgrades since the photo had been taken. The new-looking forest green roof was one of those metal affairs that was touted to be the last one you'd ever need.
The inside was rustic in some aspects, but far nicer than I had expected. It had a vintage stone fireplace which dominated one end of the sitting room, and it was all paneled in light colored knotty pine, but other parts had been updated. The kitchen was the prime example with appliances which were sleek and modern. And, to my amazement, the place was spotlessly clean.
In back, there was a deck with a whirlpool tub. When I checked it, I found that it was ready for use. Someone must be taking excellent care of everything!
Originally, I had planned to spend my first day or two sweeping out to make the place livable, but all I needed to do was put my groceries in the fridge and unpack my vehicle.
After taking care of those chores, I sat down to set up my laptop. The little notebook Fred had given to me contained the code-word for connecting to the wireless. Within a few minutes, I was checking my email.
I wrote a fairly long letter to Great Uncle Walt, using my Word program so that I could make sure it sounded the way I wanted it to. After I pasted it into the body of the email, I inserted a few pix that I'd taken along my journey.
Within 15 minutes of sending it, I received Walt's warm reply. He seemed very pleased that I had included photos, and asked if I would do so from time to time over the next couple of months. I felt like I had done the correct thing and that I was likely to become friends with him.
I jotted down a few notes about my day, playing back my verbal ones on the recorder. Then I made a simple dinner which I ate while watching the sun settle lower in the western sky.
The bathroom attached to the larger bedroom was nothing short of luxurious. It contained a beautifully tiled shower with heads at three levels and it was big enough to hold three or four people. It stirred my imagination of entertaining "guests" in some type of naughty pleasure. I began to wonder if my uncle was into "parties."
The water from the solar heater was quite warm, and I loved knowing that I wasn't wasting a lot of resources as I enjoyed my extended shower. I dried off and primped in the full-length mirror as I did. Not bad, I thought to myself.
My blond hair and blue eyes contrasted well with my lightly tanned skin. If I worked on an all-over tan this summer, I might try to impress a few guys in the fall. Hmm... I might hit the rec center and work out more as well. My body was pretty good, but it could be better.
Then I thought, "Do I really want to look like a hot stud, or will that only serve to attract shallow types?" The world of dating for a person of my orientation can be filled with tricks (no pun intended). You want to be sexy enough to attract someone decent looking, but you don't want a guy who is only interested in your body. At least that was my outlook.
The cabin was comfortably warm, so I didn't bother to dress when I finished. Being alone and nude and thinking about other men, like the one I'd encountered at the campground, soon had my cock standing at attention. I would have to do something about that if I wanted to sleep!
A video from a porn-site provided all the stimulation I needed to achieve a mind-blowing orgasm in a short time.
Pleasantly drained and satisfied, I climbed into the big bed with its memory-foam mattress and slept very soundly for the next eight hours straight!
In the morning, I had a call from Fred's son, Brock, to say that he'd like to come out to check the chemicals in the spa. I told him that it would be fine anytime he was available and I'd leave the alarm system off.
He arrived an hour later, dressed in hiking shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops. I'm not sure about the latter, but the rest of his apparel was tight enough to leave little to the imagination.
I guessed him to be about 30 years of age and wondered what he did for a living that kept him looking tan, muscular, and hot. The mystery was solved when he told me he had a massage business and did modeling for an underwear manufacturer on the side.
He said that Uncle Walt usually let him soak in the hot tub after he'd serviced it. I told him that he was welcome to carry on as if I weren't here.
When he went out on the deck, I quickly jotted down a description of him, and a few notes on what kind of role he might play in my novel. I did my best to concentrate, but was distracted by his hot body as he worked.
After a couple of minutes, he shed the tank top, showing off his beautiful back muscles. I felt a stirring in my shorts which was hard to ignore. Eventually, he dropped his shorts as well and stepped under the outdoor shower-head to rinse off before getting into the hot, roiling water. I got the full show!
It occurred to me that he might be attempting to entice me. If so, his efforts were futile for the time being because I didn't rise to the bait. (Well, I did rise in a way because I was going commando and my dick was unrestrained.) Instead of getting naked with him, I hurried to the bedroom where I could see him without his knowing I was watching. There I rapidly stroked to an awesome climax.
He was hot, but not husband material. His massages probably included "happy endings" and I'd be jealous if I hooked up with him knowing he was constantly having sex with other guys as well. Besides, I didn't want to get tangled up in a web of lust that might prevent me from finding a soul-mate. I wondered if he might be messing with my great uncle when he was around. The thought of sharing the same bod sounded incestuous somehow.
Whether or not this summer break would produce the start of a novel, I was getting off more than I usually did at home. I certainly couldn't complain about that!
That evening, I enjoyed a glass of wine while soaking naked in the hot tub in an Eden-like atmosphere. Birds were calling to each other in the otherwise silent air. The sky was streaked with brilliant colors as the sun receded in the west. The spectacular show was probably enhanced by air pollution from the forest fires in Oregon and Washington. It was ironic to me that a national disaster was in part responsible for such beauty.
I wondered if heaven was like this, and went in to get the camera to record the spectacle.
I accomplished quite a bit in the next few days. I spent my morning hours writing constantly, and my afternoons exploring the property, enjoying the hot tub, and taking a few trips into town.
The area had a long history from the time it was acquired (stolen?) from the Crow Indians, through the heydays of being a coal mining area when its population swelled to over 6,000, to survival during the Depression by bootlegging, and dropping back to be a small town of about 2,000 dependent upon tourism, especially skiing, in modern times.
As I sketched some of the scenery with my colored pencils, I began to realize that I wasn't entirely satisfied with the medium. So, I got on line and ordered a large set of pastels and a variety of Canson papers to work them on. I had all of those things at home, but had been a little too Spartan in my packing. Now I was ready to create some serious art in addition to writing my first novel. I figured that making the occasional pastel painting would keep me from getting writers' block.
Author's notes: I know that this story isn't filled with sexual adventures, but I hope you'll continue to enjoy it anyway. Gabe is looking for more than a roll in the hay, and he may meet someone yet.
This week, I heard from Don S, Jim W, Ali, Chandra B, Jacob C, Jeremy R, John D, Wayne, Jim P, Jim L, Tony F, Mendy D, Jim B, Vern, Geoff, Charles G, Paul R, Tom A, Jim M, Zero, Jim M, John M, Bill K, Walt S, and Ott H.
Thanks for your good wishes.
The days are getting longer and today there is sunshine in the frozen tundra of the Midwest USA. We hardy folk have hope that spring will eventually climb over our windowsills.
David