I checked my gear as a matter of routine. My backpack had all the bare necessities for a day in the forest as a fixed content. As a matter of standard I had one extra warm layer of clothing, a poncho doubling as a one person tent, dried food and a bottle of water. Now that I was in the normal world again, I also had use for my IPhone at last. I texted my sister and close friends that I would be home in just a few days and received enthusiastic responses. On my person I always had my trusty folding knife and the small, waterproof tin with fishing hooks and line, matches, compass, mirror, wire saw and other assorted small items necessary for surviving a friendly forest. That was what I had learned as a girl scout and it stuck with me. Girl Scouts was also responsible for my love of woods and nature. I never had to resort to using my emergency tin, but it kindof was a basic insurance if you will, when walking through the wilderness.
I recognized that the checking of myself and my gear was a nervous reaction. I was used to being responsible for myself, but today was a different kind of adventure. I was not unfamiliar to the forest or the trees or the birds and the bees. I had wandered in the woods for days on end, loving every second of it. I had become quite the accomplished hiker and climber. For the past four months I had been locked up in a high tower on the top of a hill, serving as a fire spotter. I felt that I knew every tree that there was within eyesight. There was the spotting of the occasional fire now and then, mostly campers that were cooking their meal, but for the most part it was quiet in my parts of the Canadian forest. On some days I had to do nature observation from the ground and I loved doing that the most. It meant checking growth statistics on trees and bushes, counting bear and moose, sampling soil and air and all that stuff that a full grown ranger needed to do. Becoming a ranger was also my plan for the future.
Yesterday was the last day of my stint and though I loved living in my small world all alone, with my self-grown vegetables, my deer and wolf pack and my trees, enough is enough. I wanted to go back to civilization and finish my degree in forestry. As a farewell, the department of forestry treated me to a fire flight with one of their small aircraft, a Cessna 172. It used to have a pilot and an observer anyway and today I was the observer. The weather was magnificent. The sun was out. Fresh rains had filtered the dust from the air and the view was almost infinite.
So that's where I was, sitting on the edge of the tarmac with my trusty gear and my expectations of the flight and my memories of the months past. A few hundred yards away sat the small airplane with which we were going to fly.
The pilot turned out to be a young guy. Fresh out of flight school. As I saw him make preparations at the airplane, I observed that he was a beautiful man: lean, muscled, clean shaven, blue eyes. The works. He made my heart go faster and my pussy go moist.
I had an intimate knowledge of my body and its sex parts. I had frigged myself to orgasms for years and as The Urge hit me multiple times daily this summer, I knew all of my erogenous zones intimately. And there are a lot of them. But since the scare of my best friend Mags getting knocked up at sixteen, I had put off sex with a mate. Or to put it bluntly: I am a virgin, cherry and all. Oh I've had offers. What do you think as one of the very rare women at forestry school, and being a babe? And I am. Even more so after this summer with my abundant exercise, hiking and climbing and working my garden. My location was so remote that I had days without a stitch on. I only had one visitor every fortnight when I received supplies and hikers rarely came by. It would need major adjusting now that I was back in civilization.
Through all the hard labor my muscles had toned and my body got tight all over. For the first time in my twenty-one years I was satisfied with my hard abs and my toned ass and tits. My long legs and arms have lost their baby fat and are creamy and gracious. My hair turned blond once again through all the exposure to the sun and it was now touching my ass. Obviously it was long already when I got here. My shiny belly button piercing stood out marvelously against my tight muscles and tanned abs. Yeah I know: you wouldn't think that a virgin would have a piercing, let alone two. That the second one is in my tongue doesn't make it easier to turn down boys. For some reason it is a sign of sluttery or something. I do like the rebel feeling of it, reason for getting one at fifteen at the height of puberty. It's better than getting pregnant isn't it?
"Ready Miss?" I heard from behind me. "I'm Mike and we'll be flying together." My dreamy pilot had finished his checks. I had seen him do a thorough check of all nuts and bolts, the lines of the airplane, drain petrol, fill the oil reservoir and the works. Now the two doors under the wings were opened and I climbed in on the right side. It felt more like putting on a plane than entering it, though I was happy to find that my tighter body had slimmed instead of grown with muscle. The chair was pulled forward, seatbelts were fastened and headphones put on. Then I heard the plane fire up. The gyros came to life with a hum and the meters showed something. When the pilot started up the propeller started turning with a few strenuous coughs, which righted the plane. On the radio I heard him announce our departure and his intent to patrol pattern Zulu. He explained to me that he needed to do runup checks at the beginning of the runway and he checked power and magnetos. After receiving clearance we speeded up and I heard him mutter 'rotate' and we flew!
It was the most fantastic view. A plane, even on low altitude, immediately broadens the view around you. I could see the outskirts of town and when he took the appropriate direction, the vast extends of the forest that I had learned to love.
First we followed a highway that lead us deeper into the wooded area and then at a certain mountain he turned right and checked in with the controller that we had entered point Alpha, to start flying pattern Zulu. For the next half hour we flew along a stream, where I could see the fish and the bears. We followed ridges where I could see the trees and the rough terrain. We spotted fishermen and hunters and once even a hiker's couple making love in the sun. It is amazing how clear everything is from above, even from 1,500 feet.
Then pattern Zulu took us into the bush some more. The pilot climbed to 3,000 feet and we entered the outback. People came here, but very rarely. All the more reason to check for fires. Another half hour of flying and we entered a lovely valley as we flew between two mountain ridges. The pilot had to keep close to one of the ridges, so as to have room to make a turn if necessary. If he would fly in the middle, it could be difficult to do so. But he was kind enough to choose the left side ridge and give me the perfect view. At the end of the valley we had to turn left through a pass and then turn slightly right again and dive behind a high mountain ridge. About 10 minutes in I heard him mutter something.
"What's that?" I asked him.
"Oh I'm sorry, that wasn't meant for your ears. I remembered that I had to call in and announce point Foxtrot before entering the pass." He explained.
"So do it now," I offered.
"Can't. For the next hour or so we are out of radio range. These high mountains make it impossible to reach base. Ah well. There's only a 50 minute shadow left. We'll be okay." He sounded very sure and convincing and the plane purred like a kitten, so we both settled back.
Until now we had not seen any suspicious smoke or fire. One group of hunters had a fire, but it was contained. We checked and it was all right. The rain these last days had made the forest damp and provided small chance for fires. On this side of the mountain range, the story was not much different; green forest as far as the eye could see and no sign of smoke whatsoever. On the horizon, way over to the left, I did see a haze of white. My eyesight had always been excellent and the training my dark hazel eyes got these past four months had been great too.
"What's that?" I asked the pilot.
"I dunno. I have heard of a beautiful waterfall system, but it is out of route, so I never went to see. I guess that's what it is." He said and same as me he stared at the horizon.
"Do you think we can go see?" I said. I really hoped so. I loved the flight and the view and the waterfalls would be perfect.
I saw him do an instrument check and I guess everything was in the green.
"We shouldn't, but if you don't tell, I won't tell" he said, looking at me.
I made the zipper move across my lips and with a grin, he turned left to chase the waterfalls.
It took us 15 minutes to reach the most beautiful waterfalls I have ever seen. There were multiple locations with a long drop where the water fell or cascaded down. With the sunlight in our backs I could see rainbows forming on the cliffs. It was fantastic, right up to the moment that the engine coughed. Mike quickly pulled some levers and switches and it purred like before.
.... There is more of this story ...