So, I think enough time has finally passed for Kyle and I to share what almost became our most embarrassing moment on trail. You know what, no, the most embarrassing moment of our lives.
When Kyle and I camped at East Flagstaff Lake in Maine we had the whole campsite and the lake completely to ourselves. We got there after a very long day of hiking, we had managed to outrun the rain for the most part, and we were exhausted. It was still warm enough outside despite a light sprinkle of rain for us to entertain a little dusky sunset swimming. So after setting up camp and having dinner we headed down to our private stretch of pebbly beach. Something about the perfect temperature of the air, the soft touch of the wind and the refreshing drizzle… it just felt so good on our skin that we decided to bare it all. I’m talking skinny dipping. That’s right, get your gasps out now, we went in wearing our birthday suites. It. Felt. Amazing.
However, our wonderful frolic in the lake was quickly complicated by Kyle’s need to take some amazing pictures and videos of the waves with our waterproof camera. A lot of screaming and swearing ensued as Kyle swung the camera around carelessly and what resulted was a fairly X rated clip. I tried to tell him to erase it immediately, calling upon the age old wisdom that if you have something scandalous everyone is bound to see it at some point, but he just laughed and turned the camera off. We returned to our tent feeling refreshed.
Two days later was the date of our infamous bird attack. If you don’t know what I am talking about shame on you and go read/watch our blog entry, “Bird of Prey” published on the 31st of August. We knew immediately that we had to post the video of our first serious animal encounter and I spent a good hour at the hostel in Monson uploading it.
Now, some important details. When you are looking at the pictures and videos on a memory card the pictures always have a little tab that gives you a preview of the picture. Videos do not, instead they are all represented by the same camera icon. So here I am, uploading our bird attack for an hour and it finally gets into my media file on wordpress. In wordpress it is also represented by a camera icon and a play symbol. I insert it into the post where it shows up as a link to the video. Then, in an act of exasperation with how long the upload took, I publish the post, glad to finally have it over with. Kyle is looking over my shoulder, and we both wait excitedly to see our video on the web. If you have any foresight at all you already know that, to our horror, we did not see the first still of our bird attack but instead our eyes were greeted by the still waves of East Flagstaff Lake.
My stomach still churns thinking about it. Kyle was saying things like, “Wait… isn’t that? But how? Certainly not,” and I was just moaning, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” over and over again. As quickly as I could click a mouse I was back on the editing page, deleting the link to the video, and re-publishing the post without any video. We both sat staring at the new post, breathing heavily, scared shitless. For the next twelve hours we developed a nervous tic, seizing the iPhone and frantically checking and re-checking that there was absolutely no remnants of that video on the web. I signed into three different email accounts belonging to people that follow our blog to check that the original link didn’t lead them to that video. We deleted it off the camera. Fearfully, I uploaded the right video, triple checking in preview mode that it was the right one. When both Kyle and I were satisfied that our private parts were not online we published the post. Then, just to slap us in the face one last time, the still that showed up on the Facebook link was the first still from the nudity video… why? How? This sent us into another frenzy of fear but in the end it was just some weird fluke. Some nasty joke the internet was playing on us.
For days we would get a jolt of terror, thinking about what almost happened. About all the people that would have seen my lady bits and Kyle’s manhood. But now, a few months out, we can finally laugh at the incident and feel safe that the nude video exists nowhere, except in our minds.
P.S. Even as I publish this post I am terrified that the clip has somehow made it into this post. Breath Lindsey, breath.