Note: I worked on this entire piece to look better now that I can write better again. Read from the beginning. 

“So… how’re your classes goin’?” Dad asked as we drove up Deer Creek Canyon in the Jeep to avoid the Labor day weekend traffic.

“Eh, same old, same old.” I shrugged, “Calculus isn’t as scary as I thought it would be. It’s not my favorite, but I’ll survive it.”

“What about Biology Lab?” Dad asked, “Is that at least somewhat interesting?”

“Oh yeah.” I nodded, “I’m actually really enjoying it, so far. My lab partners are a bit… tough, but that’s just how people are.”

“Tough? What do you mean by that?”

“They’re just squeamish and not exactly interested in pulling their weight.” I sighed, “They’re nice people, no doubt, but it looks like I’ll be the one doing damn near everything in lab this semester.”

“But that’s okay, right?” Dad asked, “I mean, you enjoy the hands-on stuff, so it’s not any extra work for you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, “I don’t think it’s terrible I get to be the defacto ‘group leader’. I just don’t like the feeling of people riding on my coattails.”

“But you’d be doing the work regardless of whether or not other people were riding your coattails, right? It’s not like you’re doing everyone’s work for them. They still have to write their own lab reports and all that, right?”

“Yeah, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’d ever do someone else’s homework for them.” I growled, “I’ve got more than enough crap on my plate as-is.”

“Well… then what’s there to complain about?” Dad asked, “You enjoy working in the lab, you’re not doing other people’s shit for them, you’re learning a lot of useful information.”

“You’ve got a point…” I trailed off, “I might just be tired and grouchy.”

“That you are!” Dad grinned, playfully punching me in the arm. 

“I shoulda been raised in the country.” I smirked, “Maybe I’d be less tired and grouchy then.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Dad began, “But moving to the country wouldn’t solve any of your people problems. No matter where you are in the world, you’re gonna run into and have to deal with all kinds of annoying people. Life is about learning how to enjoy things regardless of how annoying people are, y’know?”

“Again, Dad…” I yawned, “You’ve got some good points.”

“So, what are you gonna do this week when you have to deal with annoying people again?” Dad asked. 

“Try not to let it bother me.”

“Don’t let it bother you.” Dad corrected me, “Just keep on doing what you’re doing, and stop thinking about how it feels to be the only person in a group who gives a shit. It’s okay to stand out like that. Not that you can help it… I can totally see you working alone in a lab in five years and loving every second of it.”

“You do?” I asked. 

“Oh, for sure.” Dad smiled, “Just don’t ask me to pay for your graduate school, ‘cuz I can’t afford that even if I wanted to.”

“Well… let’s not get too far ahead, now.” I cautioned, “I’ve still got another fourteen weeks or so to go this semester. Who knows what’ll happen between now and then. I might enjoy Biology so far, but I sure as hell haven’t fallen in love with it.”

“Again, as long as you don’t let other people steal your joy, you’re gonna thrive in Biology. And Calculus. And whatever else you decide to put your mind to. Regardless of how your peers and professors act. And you’re gonna love it!”

We sat in silence for awhile as we barreled through downtown Evergreen, which was already bustling with tourists at 8:30 in the morning. I scowled straight ahead as I chewed on my father’s words. I knew he was right, but I wasn’t so sure how I felt about the fact that he was right. After all, people really did frustrate me to no end, especially if I felt they were trying to take advantage of my kind, gentle, hardworking nature. I was just really good at hiding my anger surrounding that sense of unfairness behind a sweet, gentle mask. 

At the same time, I knew from experience that my dad was right: if I set my mind to accomplish something, I had the willpower to get it done through hell and high water. It didn’t matter how shitty my peers or professors were. If I set a goal, I was gonna do everything in my power to achieve that goal, and be glad I pursued it regardless of if I achieved it or not. 

Again, however, people frustrated me to no end. There was very clearly a tug-of-war going on inside my mind between putting my best foot forward in Biology no matter what, and slacking off to spite my lazy peers in the lab (without them realizing, of course). Ultimately, that tug-of-war was what was getting to me, and I couldn’t hide it very well (something, something, no good deed goes unpunished). 

“Goddamn, who shit in your cheerios this morning?” Dad asked when he noticed the look on my face. 

“Oh, I was just thinking.” I said as I snapped out of my scowly trance. 

“About how annoying people are?”

“Well… sure… but not really.” I stammered. 

“Good thing we’re going up Cascade Creek this mornin’, then.” Dad chuckled, “We’ll get far, far, far away from people for a few hours. That should make you feel better.”

The roads were getting busier by the minute as we got closer to the Cascade Creek Trailhead. It seemed like every other car we passed by had an out-of-state plate or was a rental. Hell, the car leading the gravy train appeared to be from out-of-town (or at least drove that way). Thankfully, not many of those vehicles seemed very off-road worthy, which I hoped meant that the trails would be relatively quiet, save for a few other off-roaders trying to get away from society for the day. 

Regardless of the trails that lie ahead, I basically stewed in my frustration with people till we pulled off the paved road and onto the Cascade Creek trailhead. There, Dad stopped hard as I attempted to get a sip of water. 

“Should we air down?” Dad asked, referring to letting some air out of the Jeep’s tires so it would ride easier over the rocks, “Or does it look pretty smooth anyway?”

“Let’s just get on with the ride.” I snorted water out of my nostrils as I stared at the constant stream of traffic rushing to-and-fro in the rearview mirrors. 

“Alrighty then!” Dad huffed back as he aggressively shifted the Jeep into first gear, and we began our journey up the mountain. 

As soon as we rounded the first bend, it was like we’d left the world behind. The woods were so thick with aspens and firs that we could barely see five feet into it on either side of the trail. All sorts of colorful wildflowers were in bloom, sprinkling the emerald green undergrowth with dots of vermillion, gold, violet, and pink. As we climbed further and further up the trail, the trees fluttered with birds and monarch butterflies. Mountain Chickadees and Northern Flickers sang their songs as we passed under the branches they were perched on. We then rounded another bend and discovered that the gun range was miraculously empty, which explained why the woods were so alive!

“Perhaps,” I thought to myself, “We’ll be alone this entire time!”

When we got to the first fork in the road, Dad abruptly stopped the Jeep and got out, explaining that he drank too much coffee. Meanwhile, I took that time to explore our surroundings on foot, and revel in the ambience of those beautiful, perfectly serene woods.