Chapter Text
It was the first truly nice weekend of spring. The weather was beautiful, but the water was still bitterly cold from all of the snow melt. The regular fishermen wouldn't be out yet, which just gave Blair Sandburg the perfect opportunity to try out his Cree fishing spear without comments from the peanut gallery. As an anthropology grad student at the local Rainier University, he was always looking for new topics and even now angles for old topics to study and write papers on.
While Blair wasn’t the only person at the Beaver Creek Overlook, there were only a few other groups around and he was able to walk upstream a bit and around a curve in the stream and be isolated from others such that it felt like he had the entire place to himself.
The grad student had been targeting leaves and such, trying to get used to targeting things under water, for about ten minutes when he spotted something odd in the water. He waded deeper into the stream to investigate the object. It was a fishing rod and reel. It was a really nice and expensive fishing rod and reel. Someone must have dropped it and would probably want it back. Half expecting to hear shouting and splashing as the owner raced to catch up with their wayward equipment, Blair grabbed the rod and carefully reeled in and secured the hock.
Not hearing anything from upstream, he figured that he'd be a nice guy and meet the owner halfway. After all, he wasn't having much luck with his spear. So, he gathered up his backpack and fishing spear and with the rod in hand, started walking upstream.
He distracted himself by working on his next lecture as he made his way along the side of the stream. He had waterproof boots on to keep his feet dry, but they weren’t insulated and he did not like being cold.
When he started to notice that his feet were getting sore from the unexpected hike, he looked at his watch and realized that he'd been walking for a good chunk of the day with no evidence of the person who had lost the rod and reel. Maybe he should head back to his car and turn the fishing equipment in at the ranger station.
After a brief internal debate, Blair finally decided to go just a little bit further, just around the bend, ten minutes top, in the hope of finding the owner. Just as the grad student rounded the bend, he saw a man standing in the middle of the stream with his arms out as if he was holding a rod and reel, except that his hands were empty.
"Hello?" Blair called. "Did you happen to lose a fishing rod?"
The man didn't respond. He didn't answer the question, or even acknowledge Blair's existence.
"Um, I found a rod just floating downstream. I was hoping to find the owner." Blair added.
Still no response.
Blair sat the rod and reel and his backpack down on the bank of the steam and waded out to see if the man was OK.
Surely the man knew he was there. It's not like he was being quiet or anything.
Blair ignored the cold water as he moved to stand directly in front of the man who hadn't moved since Blair first saw him. Even now, with another person standing directly in front of him and waving a hand in his face, the other man hadn't reacted at all. He was just standing still as a statue.
Blair eventually placed his hands on the man's arms, intending to shake him slightly, "Sir, hey, are you OK?"
The combination of touch and sound must have finally gotten through whatever trance the man was in and he finally reacted.
And oh, what a reaction.
The man reached out and grabbed Blair's arms as he stumbled backwards while at the same time trying to shove the unknown person away from him. Both men ended up being dunked fully in the cold water of the early spring snow melt.
Blair quickly resurfaced and regained his footing and looked around for the stranger that had been ice cold and pale before the dunking.
Finding the disoriented man a few feet down stream, Blair moved to help him keep his head above water. "Hey settle down, I just want to help."
The other man whirled around to face Blair and tried to back away, move towards the bank, and re-orient himself all at the same time.
"What? Who?" he sputtered.
"Easy, I just wanted to help. I found a rod and reel floating downstream and was hoping to find the owner. I found you just standing in the water. How long have you been standing there?" Blair rattled off as he tried to stay close in case the other man stumbled and went under the water again.
The other man started to answer, but was prevented from doing so as he began to violently shiver and his teeth chattered.
"Oh man, we need to get you warmed up. You're probably hypothermic by now." The grad student might not be a survival expert, but he had been on enough expeditions to know the basics.
He started to gather some wood as the other man stumbled further away from the stream.
"Caa caaa caa caam," he was trying to say something as he staggered towards a path that Blair hadn't seen earlier.
"What? Oh, do you have a camp nearby?" Blair tried to guess what the fisherman was trying to say.
A frantic nod indicated that his guess had been correct. "Well, I hope it's close," Blair said as he began helping the other man along in the direction he was trying to go.
The other man accepted Blair's help and they quickly made it along the path to a small camp with a two man tent, a fire circle, and some kitchen equipment set up.
Blair helped the other man sit near the fire circle, "You'd better get those wet clothes off. I'll get the fire started."
It was a simple task to start the fire. Firewood had already been gathered and arranged in preparation of a fire being lit. Blair was able to get a basic fire started with some matches found nearby. "I'll grab your sleeping bag out of the tent."
Before the other man could say anything to stop his rescuer, Blair charged into the tent and grabbed the sleeping bag. He also checked the backpack for some dry clothes. He found not only dry socks and a sweatshirt, but a gun in the backpack. For the first time it dawned on him that meeting strangers in the woods was not the safest activity. But this man had just been out fishing, and just because he had a gun didn't mean he was a criminal. I mean there might be lots of reasons he might have a gun. Bears for example.
Anyways, it was a moot point at the moment. This man wasn't about to be dangerous while he was hypothermic after all.
He raced back outside with the sleeping bag and dry clothes and set to the task of getting the man dry and warm.
"Here, these should help you warm up," Blair said as he handed the items to the mostly naked man.
The cold man accepted the items, but ignored the clothes and just wrapped himself up in the sleeping bag. He was shaking too hard to be able to get the clothes on anyway.
Blair started digging through the kitchen items and found the fixings for coffee. Knowing that this would help warm up his new companion even faster, he set about making coffee.
"Ji Ji Ji Jim" the other man said as they waited for the water to boil.
Once he was sure that he'd gotten his rescuer's attention, he repeated himself. "Jjjjim Eeeeellison"
Blair looked over and saw that the shivering was starting to quiet down now that the man was getting warmer.
"Nice to meet you Jim. I'm Blair," the grad student said in return.
The water chose that moment to begin boiling and Blair got the coffee brewing. He then helped Jim get the socks and sweatshirt on.
"Tttthankssss," Jim said, still shivering a bit. He accepted the cup of coffee that Blair held out to him and took a couple of sips. "You'rrree wettt toooo" he managed to say before drinking more of the hot beverage.
Blair turned so that his backside was towards the fire, "Yeah, but I wasn't standing in freezing water for who knows how long. What happened?"
Jim just shrugged his shoulders and drank more coffee.
A few moments of silence passed, and Blair kept turning so that all sides could be warmed and dried by the fire.
"Is your campsite close by?" Jim finally asked, almost all stammer from the shivering gone now.
"Oh I'm not camping. I'm just here for the afternoon." Looking at his watch, he added, "do you think you'll be OK? I probably should head back to my car."
Instead of answering, Jim asked, "Where did you park? The nearest parking area is a couple hours hike from here."
Once again turning to expose another side to the fire, "I'm at one of the day lots, just inside the park. Um, the one by the Beaver Creek overlook."
Jim's eyes grew wide, "Beaver Creek overlook? Blair that's miles from here! You'll never make it back there by dark, especially if you have to follow the creek."
Blair's mind started to churn as he realized the situation he was now in. He was trying to remember how long it had taken him to walk upstream and he was picturing having to make the walk back in the dark and without a flashlight. He could possibly cut through the woods, and shorten the journey, but he wasn't prepared for a major hike through the woods, as it was getting dark. He'd probably just get lost.
He also remembered the gun that he'd seen in Jim's tent. Staying here with a complete stranger overnight also wasn't a good idea.
As if he'd read the grad student's mind, Jim stated "It'd be best if you stayed here tonight. You don't want to get lost in the woods in the dark. I was just planning on staying overnight anyway. I'll give you a ride back to your car in the morning."
"Uh," Blair said as his mind raced to find a better alternative and an excuse to not stay.
"Look, I know that it's not the best idea to trust strangers in the woods, but I do owe you for helping me out. Who knows how long I would have been in that water if you hadn't come along." Jim got up and, holding the sleeping bag around himself, walked into the tent. The sounds of someone looking for something could be heard for a few moments and then Jim came back out, fully dressed in sweats and holding something in his hand.
He held the item out for Blair to see, "And just so you know you can trust me, I'm a cop. Detective James Ellison of the Major Crimes division of Cascade PD."
Blair looked at the ID and badge and let out the breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. He had visions of Jim coming out of the tent with the gun and insisting that he stay.
“Blair Sandburg, Anthropology grad student and TA at Rainier University," Blair answered and held out his hand.
The two men shook hands, finally formally meeting each other after the events of the afternoon.
Once it was decided that Blair would stay with Jim overnight, the argument became who got the tent and the sleeping bag. Blair insisted that Jim sleep in the tent and sleeping bag, because he had just been hypothermic after all and needed to make sure he stayed warm. Jim insisted that Blair use the tent and sleeping bag. He was warmed up now and had survival training with the Army Rangers and had experience sleeping outdoors next to a fire.
It was finally decided that they would share the tent and the unzipped sleeping bag and that they would just have to trust each other. After all the heat from two bodies would warm the tent up nicely and they both had been cold and wet during the day.
The decision about sleeping arrangements made, they quickly set to work preparing some of the fish that Jim had caught before he had lost his fishing rod. Blair had found several wild herbs and showed Jim one of the cooking techniques that he'd learned from one of the tribes that he had visited on his many journeys.
Dinner conversation consisted of Jim telling police and Army stories and Blair telling of his travels both as an anthropology student and the son of a wandering hippy. Then, once the fish had been eaten and the camp cleaned up, the two men retired to the tent and sleeping bag and tried to fall asleep.
The next morning, Blair woke up to find that he was by himself in the tent.
"Up and at 'em, Sandburg. The day's not getting any longer," Jim said from outside of the tent.
Blair exited the tent to find Jim holding the only cup out to him, "Coffee's still hot and breakfast is almost ready."
Blair took the coffee and used both the smell and taste to help him fully wake up. "You didn't sneak out here during the night and sleep by the fire did you?" He finally asked once he was capable of speech again.
Jim laughed a bit before answering, "I thought about it, but yesterday must have hit me harder than I thought. I guess I fell asleep and the next thing I knew the sun was coming up."
“Ah," was Blair's only answer as he finished the coffee and handed the cup back to Jim, then headed away from camp a bit to take care of morning needs.
The two men ate quickly and packed up the camping equipment. Even though Jim had packed light and had obviously carried it all in himself, Blair insisted on helping to carry some of it as they headed to the parking area and Jim's vehicle. He argued that they could go quicker if they shared the load.
Once at Jim's truck, it was a simple task to load the equipment into the back and a short drive down to the parking area for the Beaver Creek overlook.
They were just coming up on the turn off to the overlook when they started to notice more activity than was normal for this early in the morning. By the time they reached the actual overlook they could easily see several ranger vehicles marked with Search and Rescue along with lots of other cars and people in the area.
One of the park rangers walked up to Jim's truck as they turned into the parking area. "Hey, Ellison, I should have expected you to show up today. Are you here to help with the search?"
"I was just up trail aways, camping myself. What's going on?" Jim asked.
"Oh, morning rounds found a car still here from overnight. We think some college student got himself lost last night. We see it all the time. Someone that isn't prepared for a long hike just heads off and thinks, 'Oh, I'll just go a little ways' but then they either go too far and can't get back before dark, or they get lost."
Jim glanced over at the man in the passenger seat. "Any idea who it is?" he asked the ranger.
"Yeah, we had the PD look up the car and it belongs to a Blair Sandburg," the ranger answered.
Jim sighed as he contemplated what he was going to say next. "Well, I hate to break up a perfectly good search and rescue operation, but let me introduce you to Blair Sandburg," Jim said, indicating the man sitting in the passenger seat. "Ranger Jonathan Bell, this is Blair Sandburg. Blair, this is Ranger Jonathan Bell."
Blair waved, "Hi, sorry to cause all the fuss. Thankfully, I ran into Jim last night and he insisted that I stay with him instead of wandering around and getting even more lost than I already was."
Jim waited for Blair to tell about finding him hypothermic and just standing in the stream like a statue, but he didn't say anything about having to help the police officer the day before.
After a few moments of stunned silence, Ranger Bell sighed in exasperation. He gave Jim a friendly glare as he raised his radio. "Bell to command"
"Please tell me we have a few more volunteers, Bell," the radio responded.
"Yes, and no," Bell answered and before he could be asked for an explanation he added, "Jim Ellison is here..."
"Awesome, we could use his tracking skills," came over the radio before Bell could finish.
"Yeah, apparently he found Sandburg last night. He's here too."
"Damn it! There goes the betting pool." A different voice was heard from the radio.
"All units return back to base and check in with command. Bell, send Ellison and Sandburg on in so we can get this all wrapped up."
It was a simple matter to locate the Ranger in charge of the search and rescue operation. With a quick examination of his identification, a statement of what had happened since yesterday, and a declined opportunity to be checked out by the paramedics Blair, Jim, and everyone involved in the search were on their way home, safe and sound.
Blair couldn't wait to get back to his office. As always, he wanted to write down the observations he made of the search and rescue personnel. You never knew when or where you will get inspiration for an avenue of research. Also, the name James Ellison sounded familiar. He wanted to look up a particular magazine article to see if he was right.