The Tinder Chronicles: The Park Ranger

Fiction Friday

I’ve never been super outdoorsy — I have no problem admitting that I’d much rather go glamping than camping (or, better yet, spend the night in a nice hotel). That being said, I do like nice walks in the park, active nature hikes, and beautiful scenery. After a few months of what passed for winter in Atlanta, I was feeling a bit thirsty for the great outdoors — for something nature-y, something definitively not in the city.

Maybe that’s why Duke’s Tinder profile caught my attention. In his picture, he wore a natural-colored uniform and wide brimmed hat, and he was standing beside a waterfall deep in the forest. The whole setting looked magical, and, as you could probably guess, I swiped right.

It didn’t take long for Duke to send me a message. He came across as very macho in his messages, and he told me he was a Park Ranger for the State of Georgia. He clearly took his duties very seriously, and he said he felt more comfortable outdoors than he ever did indoors.

From his self-descriptions, we sounded like nearly total opposites. But hey, opposites attract, right? Plus, I wanted to get out of my little chunk of urban Atlanta, and I figured Duke would be just the guy who could help me out with that.

I wasn’t wrong. Without further ado, he asked me out for a nature hike that weekend at a trail he knew just outside of Atlanta. I was pumped — at the very least, I’d find a fun new spot to explore and I’d get some exercise on a nice day.

When the day of the date arrived, I did my best to fashion an outfit of ‘appropriate hiking attire’ — which consisted of old jeans, tennis shoes, and a fitted t-shirt. I tried to strike the right balance between date-cute and hiking-chic.

I left my apartment early, expecting traffic. I made good time, and after about forty-five minutes, I pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a suburban park. Of course I’d Googled the place before I left, but it had looked much more…I don’t know, wild on the Internet. In person, the park looked like the kind of place older ladies go to power walk and gossip.

Just as I was beginning to have more serious misgivings, I heard a loud honk behind me and a huge truck pulled into the spot next to my car. After cutting the far-too-loud engine, Duke slipped out of the driver’s seat and came around to greet me.

“Wonderful day for a hike, eh?” he said, wrapping me in an unexpectedly tight hug.

“Sure is,” I managed to mumble as the air left my lungs in his grip.

He finally released me and took a step back, looking me up and down. “You might get a little scratched up without long sleeves,” he said. “Want to borrow my sweater?”

I smiled, relieved at his sensitivity. “That’s really sweet, but I think I’ll be fine.” I waved a hand at the park in front of us. “This doesn’t really look too jungly, anyway.”

He smirked slightly. “Oh, don’t be mistaken. This park leads into some hills, and people have even spotted mountain lions over here.”

That sounded fake to me, but hey, he was the Park Ranger, after all. “Really?”

“Really,” he said solemnly, and started walking toward the park entrance, gesturing for me to follow. “Just stick close to me and you’ll be fine.”

I tried to minimize my skepticism, but as we crossed neatly manicured soccer fields, a freshly painted baseball diamond, and rows upon rows of immaculately gleaming metal bleachers, I couldn’t help but question Duke’s judgment. “Are you sure this gets more wild?”

Up ahead, a path lined with wood chips led into a narrow copse of trees. “Oh, I’m sure,” he said, ducking into the leafy tunnel.

I followed him into the cool greenness of the path, expecting something untamed and natural. Instead, I saw more of the same — well-trimmed trees, a well-maintained path, even flower beds perched along the edges. The field behind my childhood home was more wild than this place, but I fought the urge to tell him so.

“Now, stay close to me, okay? We’re heading into the hilly part, and mountain lions are known to scavenge around here for food if they can’t find anything farther up.”

“Um, okay?” I said, trying to sound like I believed what he was saying. I didn’t think I did a very good job, so I tried to change the topic of conversation. “So, what made you want to become a Park Ranger?”

“Well, I’ve always loved nature, ever since I was a little kid. I was the kind of kid who would go out on the front lawn and look for ladybugs after the gardener mowed it. You know? The kind of kid who picked flowers from the bouquets my dad bought for my mom and then tried to press them between the pages of my dad’s old first edition books. Just a regular kid who loved nature,” he sighed, as if lost in thought.

I, too, was lost in my thoughts, mostly about his very odd view of a nature-loving child. I expected him to say he went camping with his dad, or collected beetles, or hiked the Appalachian Trail with his college buddies. Nope — just ladybugs and pressed flowers. Interesting.

“Oh, that’s cool,” I said. “You know — ”

I stopped mid-sentence as I ran into his back. He’d frozen in place, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. “Did you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?” I whispered back, feeling more amused than frightened.

“I definitely heard a growl…” he looked at me, and I saw serious panic in his eyes. What was he so worried about? I could practically see the shimmering blue pools in the backyards of giant homes through the trees.

“Just listen…” he said, still frozen to the spot.

I humored him, straining to hear any sort of sound. After a moment, I did hear something…a tiny Grrrrr that was more cute than menacing.

“Dear God,” Duke breathed, and I could feel his shoulders shaking.

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to be reassuring. “It’s probably just a dog.”

“No,” he said, so softly I almost didn’t hear him. “That’s a mountain lion if I ever heard one.”

“I really don’t think so — ”

At that moment, a small, dark shape rocketed out from between the trees and landed at Duke’s feet. “RUN!” he screamed, before taking off in big loping strides back the way we had come.

I barely had time to register what he was doing; by the time I looked over my shoulder, he was already out of sight.

As for the ‘mountain lion’, the dark shape that had so terrified Duke was nothing more than a…miniature schnauzer.

I bent down and stuck out my hand; the little dog licked it and wagged its tail.

“You’re no mountain lion, are you?” I cooed, giving the schnauzer a pet. “No, definitely not.”

Luckily, the schnauzer had a collar, and I spent the next half hour looking for the dog’s house. Finally, I returned the dog to its grateful and apologetic owner. When I made it back to the parking lot, Duke’s massive truck was long gone.

I didn’t consider the date a lost cause. I mean, I couldn’t help feeling a bit proud — after all, it seemed I was more outdoorsy than a Park Ranger.