fuck do you mean you’ll donate my dead body for bear food?”
“Think of it as a sacrifice. They won’t want to eat me if they can feast on you. Besides, you’ll be dead, so it’s not like you’ll mind.”
“I just want it noted right here and now that you’re obligated to drag my corpse back to the city.”
I make a face. “But you’ll be all heavy and, you know, dead. I have a feeling that it’ll put a damper on my fun camping trip.”
“It’ll be epic,” he says in a stern voice.
“You’re just going to use me to cosplay White Fang.”
He waggles his brows. “I’ll be Lord Alfred, and you can be Henry. Just be a pal and don’t leave my dead body in a tree, all right?”
“Fine. If you insist,” I say with a mock groan. “So we’re doing this?”
“Sure. Who wouldn’t want a near-death experience, after all?”
I clap him on the back. “That’s the spirit.”
It takes us a couple of hours to get the preparations over and done with, and a small pit stop at Monica’s house, but after that, we’re on the road. We’re headed toward the Berkshires, since this trip has been kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I know that area thanks to the aforementioned camping trips with my dad.
It’s late afternoon by the time we make it to our camping site. The sun is still up, but it’s the mountains, so once seven o’clock hits, it’ll start sinking fast. The plan is to get our camping site set up, spend the night, and then hike tomorrow before we head back home.
It’s not the busy season yet. We’ve seen one other group of hikers, but otherwise we’re pretty much alone in this place.
Most people prefer summer for these kinds of trips, but I’ve always enjoyed winter camping, too. First of all, the lack of people is pretty damn relaxing in and of itself, but I’ve also always enjoyed the fact that I get to see a whole different side of nature. The surroundings are a lot different from summer where everything is green and lush with life.
March is decidedly grayer. You have to be able to see the beauty. It’s not so in-your-face as with some other months.
I look around and take a deep breath. I’ve missed this.
“For a city boy, you’re a sucker for nature,” Gray says as he comes to stand next to me.
“Kind of,” I agree with a chuckle.
Gray looks around us. Our campsite is surrounded by tall trees. There’s a lake about twenty feet away from our tent. The air is crispy and fresh, and I draw it in by huge lungfuls.
“You afraid you’re going to run out or something?” Gray asks with a smile.
“I’m stocking up. You don’t get that kind of oxygen in Boston.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works, but knock yourself out.”
“I think March might be the best month of the year.” I take another deep breath.
“That’s just crazy talk. The only people who actually like March are the kids who had the misfortune of being born in March, and even those poor suckers only like it because they’re obligated by the birthday factor. Face it, March is the Martin Freeman of months.”
A loud laugh escapes me. “And by that you mean that it’s vastly underrated and people are just too blind to appreciate its true value?”
“Okay, Martin Freeman might not have been the most appropriate example, now that I think about it. But what exactly is so great about March?” he asks, turning toward me. A glint of mirth is twinkling in his eyes. “March has disguised itself as a spring month when in reality, it’s the dying cry of winter.” He gestures around himself and the thin layer of snow that covers the ground. “Exhibit A. The moment February ends, we’re all pumped up with the sweet promise of impending spring, but let’s be honest, March is not spring. At best it’s a shitty preview, and at worst it’s a middle finger from winter. Nobody wins with March. It’s all withered and gray and plain or snowstorms and freezing temperatures you’re not equipped to handle because you’ve already packed away your winter coats.”
“Oh, I’m going to make you eat your words,” I say with a laugh. “You’re going to bow before me, and be all, ‘Kai, you are the master of knowledge, and your judgment is superior to every other human being on the planet.’ Just you wait. Soon you’ll be campaigning for me to