Battling Exposure, Cold weather backpackers find exposure can take many forms. by RORI333, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It wasn’t the 17 degree Fahrenheit temperature that had turned backpacking in the North Cascades into a life or death situation…it was the rain. As majestic as the Pacific Northwest is in late autumn, the weather can turn on you in a ferocious way! Failure to plan accordingly can lead to terrible exposure. My friend Julie and I had set out with the intention of cold weather camping, but because of unusually heavy snowfall the access roads had limited entry to the park. The rangers advised us not to use our backcountry camping pass, but we had driven all the way from rural Oregon, and were determined to rough it out. Julie and I met in church when we were kids, but even through youth group we never dated. Partially because I never had the courage to suggest taking our relationship beyond the best friend zone and partially because just being friends meant we could hang out together without our parents or youth leaders chaperoning us. We were both shy and inexperienced with the opposite sex having grown up in a small town church. Even though we were both eighteen now it still took some convincing and a promise that we’d use separate tents for our parents to approve the overnight outing. Julie was athletic and curvy with pale skin, curly red hair, and bright green eyes. She was a little heavier than most of the other girls in our youth group, but it settled marvelously around her butt, and breasts, and she carried more muscle from outdoor activities. I silently adored her beauty, as she hiked in front of me. “I wonder if she ever checks me out?” I wondered as I caught myself staring at the way her wet pants clung to her behind. I’m Adam, a thin hiking and running enthusiast who has some lean muscle, but was never as built as some of the other guys in school. I didn’t play team sports so I didn’t know how my body measured up to the hometown athletes, but I had a fair idea that I was slightly more endowed than average in one area. Several miles into our hike it started raining which didn’t seem like an urgent problem until Julie slipped on the icy wet snow and crashed down a steep embankment. She managed to grab onto some brush to slow her ascent, but was now dangling partway down a ravine that could be deadly if ascended at full speed. “I can’t hold on Adam!” She screamed through the torrential downpour. “Unsnap your pack!” I screamed. I was worried the added weight would cost us precious time for her to hold on. I quickly emptied my pack onto the ground and grabbed the paracord I left at the bottom. Tying part of it around a rock to anchor it, I tied a knot and threw a loop down, which she was able to carefully wrap around her torso so I could help her slowly climb up. In the process, I was violently pulled onto my front. I slammed my ribs on the rock in order to be able to pull without risking going over the slippery edge myself. With a lot of exertion I helped her back up over the edge. Julie was trembling partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline as she grabbed me for a hug and kissed my cheek. “Stop blushing, I owe you my life!” She said as if it wasn’t the closest thing to a first kiss either one of us had experienced. By that point all my gear was soaked and I realized we’d left the tents in her pack when we’d divided the gear. Shivering and soaking wet we pressed on for a short while until we found a rocky overhanging that I tied a poncho liner over to make a makeshift shelter front the wind and rain. It was then I noticed she had a tear down the inside of her pants and her thigh was bleeding. “I need you to take off your pants so I can treat that wound.”  I told her. She gently protested that she could do it herself so I handed her the first aid kit and turned around to give her privacy. “Adam” she said after a minute, “I can barely move my fingers, can you help me?” I turned a