The road was every bit as rough as I remembered: steep, narrow, granite boulders to climb over, deep ruts. I was in my new Jeep Wrangler, the first off-road trek I'd made with it. What a perfect place, the old Anthony Lakes lookout. I'd been there once before with my parents and brother, probably fifteen years earlier, when I was a teenager with much more important things on my mind than a mountain trek, like girls.

My parents and brother are still around, but my older brother, Tom, he'd gotten multiple sclerosis not long after that trip and was totally disabled in a wheelchair. Tom had been the family's athlete in school; he still holds three records in track at our high school: High jump (6'6") and the high and low hurdles. He also held the long jump record until an Olympics-caliber kid broke it three years ago. His portrait is also on the school wall, basketball Hall of Fame.

One of Tom's favorite memories that he talked about often is this mountain, that trip fifteen years ago. He wanted me to come up here and bring him pictures, but until I bought the Jeep, there was no way, not without a seven-mile hike up this road and back -- just to get to the hiking trail.

I'm divorced now, finalized six months, nine days earlier, January 2nd. I've always been a country boy, love the outdoors, especially the mountains. JoAnn was the exact opposite ─ a city girl, through and through. We stuck it out together for seven years. The beginning was terrific, JoAnn was drop-dead gorgeous, sexy didn't even begin to describe her -- she still is, but after a few years, that wasn't enough. Our different personalities started injecting more and more into our relationship, and the memories and her gorgeous looks just weren't a strong enough glue.

Hence, the Jeep. It had been a sore spot for a long time, I've wanted to buy one for years and JoAnn wasn't about to let me spend 'one dime' on such a waste. She was probably right, but still... A much bigger point of contention, the final straw, was kids, I wanted and she didn't, adamantly didn't want, refused to go off birth control. 'It would despoil her figure', she kept telling me.

It was a long, steep, rough seven miles up that road, much of it low-range crawling, over an hour of driving. Once I finally reached the summit, I could look down on Anthony, Grande Ronde, and Hoffer Lakes on the other side. The ridge was the top of the Anthony Ski area. The summit of the ski lift was a couple-hundred yards off to the left. I wished I'd learned to ski, imagining what the view must be like from here covered with snow in the winter. The elevation at this summit is 8,408 feet. The side of the mountain I'd just come up is part of the John Day River drainage, mostly wilderness area, and the opposite side of the ridge, the ski slope side, is the Baker Valley far below. What an incredible view in any direction!

The reason for the trip was to bring home pictures for Tom. He'd been asking for a long time, and now that I had the Jeep... I'd taken several on the way up and more from the ridge. But my real destination was to the right, up the ridge and the granite stone peaks another thousand feet higher. There used to be a fire lookout, long abandoned and gone now. I faintly remembered that there were still some old wooden timbers from the lookout and was anxious to see if there was anything still there.

I followed the road another quarter mile around the ridge to the base of the hiking trail where it started climbing. I was a little disappointed that there was a four-wheeler at the road's end. I was hoping for seclusion on this hike. I was hopeful that whoever it was may have taken the trail down to Crawfish Lake, instead.

I'd waited until evening because I knew the sunset would be spectacular -- and more likely to see wildlife. I was wearing my photo vest with both wide-angle and telephoto lenses, tripod, a headlamp in case it got dark, binoculars, and lots of water. It was late July, hot. Even so, there were still snowdrifts on the North facing slopes of the granite peaks above.

JoAnn would never have come up here with me. Not that we could have, without the Jeep, but mountains were toxic to her. I think she was allergic to clean air, at least thought she was. I could say that I wondered why we ever married, but I knew. Like I said, the girl was so fuckin' gorgeous and a young man's, probably even an old man's, brain sort of malfunctions around a girl like JoAnn. I guess the real mystery was why she married me. I think I'm fairly good-looking, and I guess she saw me as a 'project'. Whatever, it didn't work. The last six months have been so much more pleasant. It was depressing that it didn't work, though, I had loved her, even thought she'd loved me in the beginning. Giving up on our marriage wasn't easy, a lot of tears were shed, but after our divorce was finalized, it seemed a lot like Roy Clark's song, 'Thank God and Greyhound She's Gone'.

I took off hiking. The first part of the trail was straight and steep, lots of ancient-looking, windblown Bristlecone Pines with the big irregular branches. It's hard to believe the hardiness of trees to survive the wintery climate these must endure. I can't even imagine what a winter storm must be like on this ridge. The trees were absolutely breathtaking.

And the air up there! Oh my God, it smelled so clean and good. I could see what seemed like hundreds of miles, every direction, across the Baker Valley to the far-away Elkhorn Mountains on one side, and nearly the entire John Day River watershed on the other.

The trail flattened out a little and Crawfish Lake came into view down in the little valley on my right. Way back when we were kids, we'd even walked into it once, too. That would be a hike for another day, Tom would enjoy those pictures, too.

I'm a reasonably fit, thirty-year-old, but the thin air and the beautiful view necessitated lots of stops. The sun was low and the colors of the sky and mountains were so vivid, perfect for pictures. I only wished Tom could have been here with me. He loved the outdoors just like me before that damned MS hit him.

Near the old lookout, the trail began to switch back, over and over again up a rocky, granite-strewn, near-vertical slope. Places along the trail were literally hands-and-feet crawling. I had to stop several times to catch my breath and just enjoy the view and snap pictures.

Then it leveled out again, passing through two vertical granite pillars, a natural framing for pictures. I remember how we'd stopped here and stood between them taking portraits of each other, the granite peak of the lookout in the background. It almost made me cry, remembering Tom proudly standing between the pillars so long ago.

Beyond the pillars, a new vista opened up. Down in the valley above Crawfish Lake, there's a huge green meadow, a meandering little stream running through it ─ and this evening, it was full of elk, hundreds it seemed like. I got out my binoculars to look at them and was transfixed. The calves were running, playing, their mommas patiently eating. Scattered through the herd were several bulls, some small ─ spikes, and several granddaddies, some with huge racks of antlers.

I could have stayed and watched forever, but my goal was the old lookout on top of a flat slab at the summit of the peak. From here on, a slip could be deadly. The trail pretty much ended and just turned into climbing up and over giant granite boulders with deep drop-offs on both sides. Around one more bend, six mountain goats were walking across the face of a several-hundred-foot-high, vertical cliff. I scanned them with the binoculars and it looked like there was a little ledge, maybe a few inches wide. The elk were still going to be there, but these, I couldn't pass over the picture. I put on my 400mm telephoto and began snapping, probably two dozen pictures. Bless digital!

With the excitement from the goats, I hadn't noticed, but there was a person, a woman, presumably the owner of the four-wheeler sitting on top of the peak. I couldn't help but stop and snap her picture sitting on top of that granite boulder.

I became alarmed as I climbed closer to her, realizing that she was sitting there, crying. I climbed up beside her and asked, "You okay?"

She looked over at me, the tears streaming down her cheeks, wiped them with the back of her hands, and nodded, "Uhuh, I guess."

She was nice-looking, not beautiful like JoAnn, but not many women were. Easy on the eyes, probably mid-thirties, but I'm a crappy judge of age. Funny how a guy's first thoughts about a woman are her appearance and her age. I felt kind of guilty that they had even crossed my mind when she was obviously suffering.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked her.

She stared off in the distance. The meadow with the elk was our view from the perch on that rock. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, "I... used to come up here with my husband, every summer. He loved this place more than any other..."

I knew there was more she wanted to say, so just sat quietly waiting. She wiped her cheeks again, the tears had seemed to slow. "He died... almost three years ago... leukemia." Her breath caught, another little sob, "This is my first time back... since."

Ahh shit! I had no idea what to say. I thought I'd had it rough with the divorce. All I knew to do, and had no idea if it was right or not with a complete stranger, was to put my arm around her shoulders and hold her. I guess it was, she put her head on my shoulder and just let her tears flow.

After several minutes sitting like that, this strange woman crying on my shoulder, she gradually got control of herself, looked up at me with her tear-stained eyes, and said with a half-hearted smile on her face, "Thank you... guess I needed that."

She offered me her hand, "My name's Stacy."

I took her hand, noticing how soft it was, the first time I'd touched a woman's skin since at least six months before our divorce, and told her my name, Jason, "Jase to my friends, I'd like it if you called me Jase if you want."

Then she started talking, told me about her husband, Alex, or Lex, "As in Lex Luthor of Superman fame," how he'd gotten sick, they'd rushed him to the cancer center at OHSU in Portland, but it was discovered too late. He was gone before she'd even had time to come to grips with him being sick. Two kids, a girl, twelve, and a boy, fifteen. "They were devastated, losing their dad." I could tell the pride in her voice when she talked about her two kids. I couldn't even imagine how that must have been for a couple pre-teen kids.

I told her about JoAnn, our divorce, how happy we'd been in the beginning and how it had gradually declined. Somehow, my ordeal didn't seem to hold nearly the significancet anymore.

We sat, watching the elk in the meadow below and the setting sun, me taking pictures and showing her. We could barely see the elk with our naked eyes, the babies running and playing, so I loaned her my binoculars. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to be so free?" she said. Her tears had stopped, and she seemed to be enjoying our companionship.

The sun was starting to set, but I had my headlamp, new batteries, so wasn't too worried. The full moon was already out, stars would be shining brightly, and it wouldn't be overly dark anyway. But down that trail...

"Lex and I... we always talked about making love on this mountain... we would have someday, too... if he hadn't..." She hesitated, coming close to tears again, "I was always afraid... you know, you just don't do things like that. I just... couldn't."

She looked into my eyes, maybe seeing what I was trying to hide, that I was already falling for her, leaned toward me, and kissed me. Her lips were soft, tongue probing mine apart and exploring. Her hand went behind my neck, pulling, our kiss deepening into something I had no right to feel, or especially to expect. Somehow, the granite we were sitting on didn't seem nearly as hard as it had a few minutes earlier.

She pulled away, her hand still holding the back of my neck, trembling, "Jase... please.... I want... make love to me."

My mind nearly exploded. I wanted to so badly, yet... "Here? Now?"

She nodded, biting her lip, "Especially here and now," she said, "Lex would want it... I want it. Even if it's only this once, we never see each other again." She looked deep into my eyes, her voice barely audible, "Please."

She had on a short-sleeved shirt, nothing special, certainly not sexy, yet I couldn't recall being turned on like I was that moment since... I didn't even know when. The last couple years with JoAnn were nothing more than perfunctory, on the rare occasions when we did have sex. I wouldn't call it 'making love' since long before. My fingers were shaking as I reached for the top button of her shirt. She looked down, watching as I undid that button, then another... and another.

I spread her blouse apart, and she let me push it off her arms. She had on a beige sports bra, obviously comfortable for a hike like this. I don't think I'd ever seen anything so sexy. I put my fingers underneath the bottom, feeling her soft skin, "You sure?" I whispered, barely able to speak.

She nodded, and I pressed upward, feeling the edge of her breasts, pushing the stretchy material upward, watching, slowly revealing her breasts, the bottom half of her areolas, her nipples. She looked straight at me, holding her arms up for me to slide it up and off.

Then I marveled at her, topless in the wilderness, a whole lot more than 'easy on the eyes', but with tears falling from her eyes.

She must have seen the concern on my face, "No, Jase, I'm happy. Lex and I... we never had the courage. Wanted to, but... I know he's looking down now, thinking 'you go girl!'," with a smile on her face.

She was beautiful with that smile replacing the sadness.

Then she gripped the back of my head and pulled my mouth to her breast, letting out a loud groan as I wrapped my lips around her nipple.

The sun was going down, the yellow and orange glow of the sunset vivid on the far horizon underneath the sparse clouds. We were alone on top of the beautiful world.

I groaned, my erection pressing against my denim shorts. We kissed, Stacy working loose the buttons of my shirt as I had hers.

A few minutes later, we were both naked on the mountaintop. The boulder we'd been sitting on was sloping a little, and Stacy leaned back on it, her eyes never leaving mine. The rock was hard, but I don't think either of us noticed. My heart was pounding as I lay down beside her and we kissed, caressing a nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

I was nearly beyond my endurance, Stacy moaning into my mouth. "Now... please," she pleaded.

I rolled over, trying to be careful to hold my weight off her due to the hardness of our 'bed'. I wished we'd had a jacket or anything to spread underneath her. Stacy spread her legs apart, I scooted up and she held my cock at her entrance.

I pushed, watching her face. I'm not big, pretty average, I imagine, but she was tight, hadn't had a man for the three years since her husband's death. "Ohh, go slow."

I pulled back, pushed into her a little more, felt her hands on my back, fingernails scratching my skin, "Mmm, mmm, so good, little more."

Her pussy was wet, I felt her slickness and heat, she felt so good. I leaned down and kissed her again, pressing a little further inside her. This was more than just sex, it was an emotional awakening, I think for both of us. She was my first since probably a year before the divorce, at least that meant anything at all, and I know I was hers for longer than that.

A moment later, I was fully inside her. Stacy was breathing deeply, my heart was pounding, enjoying like I couldn't even remember. Even when JoAnn and I had had sex the last years, it was just... I guess it was expected, not like this... to be honest with myself, not even in the beginning. Nothing had ever been like this.

I pulled out and pressed back into her. Her hips responded, pushing up onto me, "Ahh, God," she groaned.

Okay, I'll admit that I've masturbated, relieving myself periodically, not long ago, as a matter of fact. Otherwise, the way she felt and the emotional connection between us, I'd no doubt have exploded inside her within the first few seconds.

Stacy's fingernails were digging into my buttocks, she was groaning, and I captured her lips once more with mine, as I was pressed deep inside her. She kissed back just as hard until I pulled out and thrust into her once more. Her lips tensed, and I felt her bite down, another muffled moan escaping both of us.

Another thrust and I felt her body begin to tense and shudder, her vagina squeezing me. It was too much, the orgasm bursting through me. Our bodies arched together, my cock pushing hard inside her, moaning noises coming from both our mouths.

God, it was good, like I said, unlike anything I'd experienced for so long, maybe ever. I couldn't remember it ever being like this with JoAnn. Maybe because of where we were, but I think it was much more who, not where.

"That was incredible!" Stacy said after she caught her breath, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling me to her. I was already lost, in love.

Neither of us had even thought about pregnancy. I know I hadn't.

By then it was twilight, a time I'd never imagined still being on top of the mountain, no doubt Stacy hadn't, either. It was more beautiful than I could have imagined. We dressed and I set up my tripod to get pictures for Tom. I explained to her about my brother, how he loved the mountain when we were there, and I was there for him, for the pictures. The sunset was a treat that I never would have expected, not quite like the other 'treat', but pretty awesome, nonetheless. I knew Tom would enjoy them, especially the ones of Stacy silhouetted against the mountain sky. I could hardly wait to tell him about her.

We spent another half-hour, then in the nearly full dark, the moon and stars shining brightly, decided we needed to get off the mountain. I strapped the headlight on and carefully took a few steps, then turned and helped Stacy. That's how we worked our way down those first treacherous yards, me going first, then turning to light the path for her, holding her hand to help.

The location with the two pillars on each side of the trail was especially beautiful, with the moon between them, so I had to set up the tripod again and get the picture, then another with the silhouette of Stacy, then both of us. I knew Tom would love those pictures.

The most difficult, after those first several yards of the peak, was down that near-vertical switchback trail. We had to do a lot of sitting and scooting in the dark. Once down off that section, we could walk side-by-side the rest of the way.

Once back to our vehicles, the thought went through me how disappointed I'd been when I saw the four-wheeler. Amazing, how that had changed. I'd even forgotten to look for the old lookout lumber.

It had gotten much chillier than earlier in the day. Our elevation was 8,400 feet and the nights are cold. I suggested to Stacy, "Want to leave it? We can come back and get it tomorrow."

I don't know if she realized what I was actually suggesting. I didn't want to lose her. I was camped down on the river and hoping for company in my little tent.

"You sure? It's a long way up here."

I nodded, "Too cold for you to ride it down tonight."

She relented, climbing in the other side of the Jeep.

On our way down, I asked her where she was camped.

"The campground at Anthony, have a little tent there."

I was quiet for a few minutes, creeping down that road with just the headlights, nervous about asking her, scared shitless, to be honest. I'd never asked a woman to spend the night with me before. I didn't even remember how it had happened with JoAnn, probably she'd suggested it. I finally got up the courage, "You want..."

"Yes!" she answered before I even got the question out.

All I had was an oversized, single sleeping bag, but it was more than we needed.

By the next morning, there wasn't a doubt in my mind. I had found my lifetime soulmate, a gift from my brother. If he hadn't asked for the pictures, I'd never have been on that mountain... never have met this wondrous woman.

ooOoo

There's a beautiful meadow about a mile down the river from where I'd camped that night, adjoining a magnificent Aspen grove. The following July, one year to the day, it was the site of a wedding, Stacy and Jason Hill. Tom was my best man, his last visit to his beloved mountains before he passed away. 'Our' son and daughter were there, too, tears in their eyes, happy tears for the first time since their dad passed away four years earlier. The adoption papers were all ready to be signed as soon as we were home, 'our' home.

Our three-month-old baby girl, Alexa, was there, too, she slept through the entire ceremony.

That evening we consummated our marriage on top of a mountain, on a hard, flat granite boulder.