Silent Bob
By Erik Schubach
Copyright © 2013 by Erik Schubach
Self publishing
P.O. Box 523
Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026
Cover photo © 2013 By Jacob Gregory / ShutterStock.com license
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Manufactured in the United States of America
FIRST EDITION
ISBN 978-0-9889998-5-5
Chapter 1 – Digging In
I had just finished my rappel as dusk settled in... God what a rush! ...and was crouched over my pack, stowing my gear when the first flakes of the oncoming snow storm hit hours ahead of the forecast. I know I could have just taken the snowmobile around and up the ridge a half mile to the south to replenish supplies at the emergency shelter for the forestry service. But where's the fun in that when there is a perfectly good cliff face to climb to it right here?
When the company I own, Silent Bob's, was awarded the resupply for the east slope Interstate 90 corridor of the new Hiker Protection Program, nobody was really surprised. This is our backyard! Based at the foot of the mountains here in Issaquah Washington. We now maintain and supply the three new shelters that were built, for a generous stipend from the forestry service on Tiger Mountain.
It was a no-brainer to throw our hat into the ring since we pass the locations almost on a daily basis, setting up dream mountain experiences for our customers. That's well over half our business after all, simply being an outdoor outfitter isn't a sound business structure as my uncle Stu discovered before I inherited the company from him.
My father and I had moved from Melbourne, Australia when I was eight, after my mother had died. I had been working with uncle Stu since I was twelve. When I realized at fifteen that I was gay or bi or whatever current label they felt they needed to apply to me was, I came out to my father. My dad didn't want to have anything to do with me after therapy couldn't “fix” me. What the hell? I'm not broken! So Stu took me in. This has been my life ever since.
I had to bail uncle Stuart out a few years back when Stu's Outfitters almost went bankrupt simply supplying outdoor gear. I had been doing pretty well with my investments and business consulting services after college and had a chunk of cash saved away that I could apply to his business.
So I became his silent partner and helped him restructure the company to give mountain tours, outdoor experiences and of course gear outfitting. It gave the company multiple legs to stand on.
Me being his silent partner was about the worst kept secret in the Cascades back then, everyone from our gear vendors to all of our regulars knew what I had done and took to calling me Silent Bob, a not so inside joke since my name is Roberta.
When uncle Stu lost his battle with prostate cancer, everyone implored me to keep the business going since there was nobody who provided all of the services we did. I reluctantly acquiesced and renamed the company to Silent Bob's Cascade Experience. The rest is history.
I stood and shook the memory out of my head and inhaled the crisp winter air. It was invigorating. I just love the Cascades in the winter. There's no place I'd rather be in the world. I pulled out my radio from my pack and switched it on as I shouldered my pack and made my way to my snowmobile and its cargo sled. “Silent Bob to Home-plate,” I said with the tiny trace of my Australian accent that I haven't been able to get rid of after twenty two years.
A couple seconds later the radio crackled to life and Remmy's familiar gravely voice came across, “Yeah Bobbi, we read ya.” I had to grin at the old man's voice, at like three hundred and ninety years old, he was still sharp as a tack and knew these mountains better than anyone. There isn't anything he doesn't know about the outdoors. OK fine... he's only in his mid eighties.
He had worked for my uncle for close to twenty five years and will work for me until one or the other of us are gone. I wouldn't take any bets on who will outlast the other, the man is resilient. I kind of see him as my surrogate grandfather. He is the grumpiest and most cantankerous person to everyone, except me. I smiled as I spoke, “Looks like that blizzard is hitting a wee bit early, I think I'll just pitch a tent and bivvy here for the night. It's a gorgeous night!”
I swear I could hear his growling before he actually replied. “Ya got yer goddamn snowmobile girl, just come home now before it gets too bad up there.” My smile got a little bigger, he's always so protective, but I'm going to enjoy a night out here. It's only snow. I threw the needed gear from the cargo sled as we spoke and threw tarps over the snowmobile and sled, securing anchors into the packed snow.
“Remmy, I live for this out here. I'll see you in the morning.” I squinted an eye in humor and braced myself as his response as it crackled across the radio. “You bullheaded kid! Fine, but you check in on schedule. What are your grids?”
I chuckled. Thirty is a kid? Then I replied, “I'm at the cliff base below Emergency Shelter E2.” Then I squinted again in preparation as his voice boomed back to me. “Goddammit, Bobbi! If you're at a shelter, use the goddamn shelter! Oh, whatever, fine! I'll see you in the morning. You're so impetuous!”
I grinned. “I love you too, Remmy. See you in the morning. Silent Bob out.” Then I switched off the radio and walked a few yards to where I had a great view of the valley and started tamping down the snow to pitch my Granite Ridge V25 tent. The snow was coming down fairly heavy as I set down my ground barrier then pitched the tent over the top and secured it with my snow anchors.
I rolled out my two person Sub Zero Penguin sleeping bag and set up the rest of my gear inside. I remembered something I wanted to test out at the last minute. We started stocking vented tent heaters and I personally test everything we sell. I think it is ridiculous to heat a tent, that's what your sleeping bag is for, but we've been getting requests for them.
I made my way back to the snowmobile and the cargo sled. The tarps were already covered with snow, and I pulled up a stake at the corner, letting the half inch accumulation slide off and reached in and grabbed the stupid tent heater, a fuel canister, and battery for the circulation fan, then replaced the stake.
It was getting quite dark now and I could see the glow of Issaquah and Seattle to the northwest radiating over the ridge. But visibility was getting pretty low. Soon even that wouldn't be visible. I turned on a lantern and started singing Flower Blossom by Satin Thunder to myself as I set up the outdoor portion of the heater and ran a vent tube inside the tent. I'll wait till the morning to fire it up.
I grinned at the song as I sang. One of my employees, Kimi, a couple years back had won a competition to get a recording contract, and this is one of her songs. She is more like a little sister to me than an employee. I took her in after her mother disowned her when she came out. It was so similar to what had happened to me that I just had to extend a hand to her like uncle Stu did for me.
She has the most amazing voice and I couldn’t have been more proud of her when her and her future wife started Satin Thunder. Now they are an international sensation stationed out of London. It was hard to watch her go for more than the obvious personal reasons. She was also the hardest worker I had ever had and had to hire two
people to pick up the slack once she was gone.
Kimi and her new family visit here three months out of every year and most holidays. When she's here she always pitches in against my protestations that she is on vacation. She insists, saying I'm family. It embarrasses me every time, because she calls me her “hero” and she has this really weird obsession with heroes. Their daughter Samantha is about the most adorable little girl you will ever meet, she has what has to be the true definition of an infectious smile.
I finished up and looked around to see that almost an additional inch of snow had fallen already. The wind was building and whipping it around, limiting visibility. I was about to head into the tent when I heard a creak clack, creak clack approaching the campsite from the south.
I stopped singing and looked out into the dark where I saw the light of a lantern swinging from side to side, heading my way through the snow. I was staring to make out a figure when a strong musical female voice chimed out, “Hello in the tent!”
I couldn't stop from grinning, I'll have to let Remmy know I'm not the only “impetuous” one on the mountain tonight. I raised my lantern as I replied, “Not in the tent yet, how are you doing on such a splendid night?”
The creak clack approached and I could make out a much taller, smiling woman decked out in cold weather gear. She appeared to be about my age, maybe a year or two older. She spoke with a chuckle, “Just taking a lovely little stroll on the mountain. The storm just snuck in on me a little early. I was being lazy and didn't want to pitch my tent so I was looking for the emergency shelter that is supposed to be around here to bivvy for the night. Just can't seem to find it... then I heard your wonderful singing.”
I couldn't stifle a laugh at her great attitude as she stepped up to me with a creak clack and a comical look on her strong face, her eyes sparkling. I replied with humor in my voice, “Well you're just about two hundred feet from it, most of those straight up on the ridge above us.” I pointed up to punctuate. “You can get there a half mile to the south and curl up the ridge since I wouldn't recommend climbing the cliff face in the dark, nor during a blizzard.”
I was caught off guard by the amazing smile and roll of the eyes she shot back at me as she looked at the GPS in her gloved hand. “Drat. So I guess pitching a tent it is. That's what I get for being such a lazy procrastinator. Mind if I share your clearing?” She unshouldered her impressive pack as I shook my head. The wind was really picking up now.
I noticed the leg brace on her left leg. Impressive. She's obviously a woman who doesn't back down easy. I grinned at her, everything was all sharp angles and shadows with our lantern lights barely cutting through the falling snow. “Nonsense, I have plenty of room. Make yourself at home. I was about to start dinner.”
I pulled up the weather station hanging off my belt on a carabiner and hit the backlight as I spoke, “A much better option than pitching camp in fifteen degree temps.”
She looked at my tent then at me and spoke with a huge smile that just about knocked me on my ass. “You're alone? Here I thought I was the only crazy lady wandering about out here tonight.” Then she pocketed her GPS and extended her hand. “Blake. I don't mind if I do. As I stated... I am pretty lazy.”
I shook her hand saying, “Roberta Valentine. Welcome to my humble abode. I'd hazard a guess that the word 'lazy' is not in your vocabulary.” Then I unzipped the door flap and made a grand gesture. She bent and popped her head inside chuckling and flopped her pack inside, off to one side and entered. I ducked and moved in behind her and zipped the door flap back in place.
She turned around and sat cross legged with her back to the outer wall and grinned. “Brrr.”
I chuckled and replied, “Yes, brrr.”
I took a second to appraise her. It was hard to tell with the appropriate bulky winter gear she was wearing; she knew what she was doing out here; but she appeared to be in great physical shape beneath it. Her face had sharp angles that looked somewhat exotic to me, like those pretty Romanian gypsy princesses in the old black and white movies.
It was her sparkling green eyes that seemed to glow in the lantern's light that captivated me the most. She lowered her hood and her curly brown mane spilled down across her cheeks and shoulders. She had a strong, self assured look on her face.
If I wasn't in a new relationship, I'd probably be drooling about now. Oh who am I kidding? I'm drooling. I noticed I was staring so I looked away and started some smalltalk as I rummaged through my supplies. “So what brings you around these parts tonight? Most people ran for the city when they heard of the approaching storm. Like rats abandoning a sinking ship.”
She snorted and covered her mouth in embarrassment with a smile as she replied, “Pussies! Yeah I'm just out scouting some locations for possible camping excursions for my company. That Silent Bob seems to have a stranglehold on the whole I90 corridor. God he's infuriating. I'm looking to expand from the Leavenworth Highway 2 corridor. But getting a toe hold in his territory these past couple years has been next to impossible.”
I stiffened a bit. She stopped, realizing she was ranting, then shot me a comical look and changed gears. “So what brings you out tonight?”
I raised an eyebrow, I didn't want this to get adversarial, I really liked her spunk. I knew who she was now, she was Blake Reston from Reston Outfitters over in Monroe, Washington. I did find it humorous that for such a poorly kept secret, how many people still think Silent Bob is a man, and that's just fine by me.
Then I said with a super toothy comical grin of my own, “Well I just got done resupplying the Emergency shelter up there for Silent Bob's.”
She looked down sheepishly. “I'd stick my foot in my mouth if I could feel it.”
I just smiled at her and pulled out a couple chemical heating pads from my supplies and took out one of the two water bottles I had under my jacket to keep them from freezing. Opening one, I poured some water in each to activate them and started kneading them, recapping and returning the bottle under my coat.
I threw the heating pads into my double sized sleeping bag. I normally wouldn't use them, but she was just so damn cute, I felt obligated to be a good host. It's only right... right? I said, “No worries. Here, take your boots off and make yourself at home in the bag to warm up a bit while I make us a gourmet dinner. Stew and macaroni and cheese sound good to you? Apple surprise dessert!”
With a cheesy smile I held up a couple large heat and serve campsite ration packets. She had already removed her brace and boots and was sliding into my sleeping bag with a sigh as she replied with a little laugh, “Sounds divine.” I could tell she was jamming her feet onto the heating pads.
I took the tins out of the packets and I unfolded a little open ended windscreen I had, and unzipped the door then jammed it into the snow. I put the single burner camp stove below it and fired it up with my striker and set the tins in place. I zipped the door back up before too much snow made its way inside.
I looked at her with a smile, watching my breath billow as I breathed. “Brrr.”
She snickered and held open the bag for me. I grabbed her brace and boots and pulled my own boots off and stuffed them all into the bag with us off to one side. We laid there in the lantern light facing each other with a comfortable gap between us. God she looks even better up close!
I pushed those thoughts aside and said, “Hang on a second and we can chat, have to check in now that camp is set up.” I reached out and snagged the radio by my pack. Hmm... how to play this so she doesn't get pissed, she seems to have a real hate on for me, but she seems quite likeable. I switched it on and said, “Roberta Valentine to Homeplate.”
A moment later Remmy's gravel encrusted voice crackled to life over the speaker, “What the hell kind of sign on was that? 'Roberta Valentine'”.
I rolled my eyes. “Just checking in so you don't have a coronary, you old fart. Camp is set up and it looks like I will be plus one tonight, I seem to have run into Blake Reston out here and we're about to sit
down for a lovely meal.”
I could hear the old stone gears grinding in his cobwebbed head from up here on the mountain, like I said, sharp as a tack as he replied using my given name, “Ahhh... gotcha. OK, Roberta, we'll see you in the morning. Remember to check in when you wake up. Goddamn crazy kids!”
I snickered and I saw Blake covering her mouth to suppress the laugh sparkling around in her eyes as I replied, “I love you, too. Roberta out.” Then I switched the radio off. I looked over at Blake and we both cracked up.
She laughed. “He seems quite warm and fuzzy. Good guy to work for?”
I couldn't stop smiling as I replied, “I'm not sure if warm is applicable, that man is like a thousand years old and I doubt he generates any heat anymore. But yes, Silent Bob's is my life.”
She smiled slyly, glancing around dramatically before saying, “So zero chance of luring you away to work for me? I've tried with a few of his employees but they all act like he is some sort of legend here. Like that Kimi girl, before she wound up becoming a rock queen over in London. She flat refused saying that nothing could make her abandon Silent Bob. When I asked why, she simply said 'Heroes!' with a faraway look like I should understand what the hell she was talking about.”
I snorted. Yup, that's Kimi Soloman for you... well Kimi Roth now. With a big grin I said, “Heh, yeah, that's Kim for you. But no, sorry, Silent Bob's IS my life.”
She shot back a genuine smile that originated in her eyes. “Drat, didn't think so. Can't blame a girl for trying.” Gotta hand it to her, trying to poach the competition's workers is smart. I was bursting with pride and admiration for my staff for their loyalty.
She then tilted her head. “I keep thinking I'm catching a trace of an accent in your voice.” She left the statement as a question cocking an eyebrow.
I grinned again and held up a gloved finger. “Hold that thought, Blake.” I extricated myself from the warmth of the blanket and unzipped the door flap and pulled the tins off the camp stove with my gloved hands and shut it off. I let the tins set in the snow for a few seconds to cool them down before bringing them, the windscreen and the camp stove back inside and zipping up. There was at least another inch of snow out there already and that was a stinging wind!
Silent Bob Page 1
