At the age of 19, my boyfriend William and I would often go camping in the North Georgia mountains. We enjoyed nature, and the fact that we had to rough it was a challenge that we gladly took on. We would sometimes go alone, other times we’d enjoy a weekend with friends. Our location of choice was Sarah’s Creek, nestled deep in the North Georgia Mountains, in the middle of the Chattahoochee National Forest. Eight miles up the mountain, you were guaranteed privacy. Only seeing the occasional game warden, patrolling the area. Our site was away from the main dirt road and located directly by a creek that flowed with ice cold water.
One weekend in August, we were to go alone for a three-day get away. The day of the departure, my boyfriend’s best friend Scott asked to join us. We welcomed him to come along. The first night, we set up camp and enjoyed a nice steak dinner. As the evening grew dark, we sat around the fire sharing stories of past times, laughing at jokes, and sipping on wine. Scott was significantly older than me. Eleven years my senior to be exact. He was an attractive man and he had the ability to make anyone laugh at a moment’s notice. For this alone, I was always drawn to him. I enjoyed his company.