Just got back from spending another week in the woods. Like last time, it was my intention to stay locked the whole time I was there.
In fact, I even told Belle I didn’t want to take any key at all. In the old days, I had an “emergency” key with me all the time but for years now I rarely have one with me. And I know I can do the woods for a week (or more) without a key and not need it or miss it and having access to it opens a tiny crack of opportunity to be bad and I don’t want to think about that.
So I told her as she hunted for the locked and numbered spare key that maybe I wouldn’t even take one. But calmer heads prevailed and I took her main key and wrapped it in paper and tape and had her sign it so any tampering would be painfully evident.
And yeah, good thing, because on the third day I found myself super dehydrated. It was hot and humid where I was and while I thought I was keeping up with my fluid intake, I was not and realized such when the urine dropping out of the Steelheart’s tube was deep orange. Bad, bad, bad.
Worse, urine in that situation becomes super concentrated and acidic. Perhaps if I was wearing the Evotion 8, it wouldn’t have been such an issue, but the Steelheart never drains completely and even after several trips into my tent to flush the tube with soapy water, I ended up with nasty burns on the underside tip of the contents.
So…yeah, glad that key was with me. I opened it with my multitool and took the Steelheart off and applied antibiotic ointment to the sore spots. Holy fuck, they hurt. Probably because I waited too long. I’m such a zealot.
Good news was, with those sores feeling as they did and where they were, there was no way at all I even considered playing with it. The best parts were on fire. The worst of the pain only lasted about 24-36 hours before it became just tender. Always amazes me how quickly the skin on the contents heals itself.
So by the fifth day things were feeling well enough that I was once again totally distracted by the novel sensation of a penis with feeling moving around and rubbing against the inside of my underwear and pants. I found myself on a hike getting a rather obvious erection from the sensation. Like I was 13 or something. Don’t think anyone noticed.
I stayed good the whole time. I did maybe give the morning wood a squeeze a few times but no stroking. And as soon as I got back in the house and hopped in the shower to hose a week’s worth of forest funk off me, I locked myself back in the Steelheart and told Belle everything.
So while part of me would love to see the key epoxied into the lock and broken off, no, that’s not at all practical. And going into the woods for a week without a key is a dumb idea.
One thought on “Hunk of burning love”
So I told her as she hunted for the locked and numbered spare key that maybe I wouldn’t even take one. But calmer heads prevailed…
Mrs Edge and I both find the idea of her keeping all the keys to be very hot. But she’s usually the, umm, cooler head when I’m going off to do something potentially dangerous or whatever.
But your anecdote points up a good reason for all those guys who turn up their noses at takign an emergency key. Sometimes weird stuff just happens.
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