At our last campfire as a group of five, the guys talked about what I could name my story, if I ever chose to write one. Chris said, “How about ‘Four Idiots and One Lovely Lady?’” while Conner chimed in, “How about ‘Traveling with Three Titans and one Woolly Mammoth?’” an obvious prideful reference to the fact that his beard had grown far more quickly and bushy than anyone else’s. We decided on the “I’m with Idiots” Tour, and Matthew offered to make t-shirts in our honor.
Though we missed Chris after he left, we still continued to have extraordinary adventures. We went to Sawtooth, Craters of the Moon, and Sun Valley, Idaho. After a few more fishing disasters, James settled on getting his photo taken with another fisherman’s bass at a gas station and pawning it off as his own to friends and family who later saw the pictures. In Oregon, we climbed Mt. Scott at Crater Lake and hiked up the side of South Sisters to Lake Moraine. We begged and pleaded desperately with Conner to allow us go to Pizza Hut for dinner one night until he finally relented. The pizza tasted like gold, and we listened to Alison Kraus on the jukebox while the boys all shook the dirt out of their facial hair and stared at it on the table in wonder. James and I spent a late night in Oregon watching the full moon rise and applauding its luminous ascent. We camped outside on the beach in Northern California and counted shooting stars. For the final rite of passage, just before re-entering San Francisco, we each ate a Triple Triple at In and Out Burger. Back in my own bed that night, I dreamt I had a beard.
Years later, I’m still not quite sure what grand revelations I had after traveling with men. What I can tell you is this: they always treated me like one of the guys, but every now and then one of them would open the door for me or give me the first sip of water after a long hike. Though we did engage in “guy” conversations about flatulence and facial hair, we talked a lot about God, relationships, and the way we all felt a little scared about getting older, just like I do with my girlfriends. We laughed a lot and were serious, and we all took time to be alone. We tried to be tough and strong, but we were really pretty silly and sensitive. Underneath the surface and certain obvious physical differences, I can’t say that these particular men were that much different than the women I know.
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