Field Work
#3 of Conbook Submissions
This was my submission to the RMFC '14 conbook, and they accepted it within a few hours of being uploaded! I believe that had more to do with the convention theme, however. It was a theme of "14ers," celebrating Colorado's prestigious mountain peaks that soared above 14,000 feet.
... yeah. I'm not sure how many submissions they had for that. I, at least, had the hardest time coming up with a story that followed that theme, and I actually rather enjoyed reading the other stories from that year to see what the others had come up with.
It was three for three on accepted convention book submissions, which is my small claim to fame. Not sure if it counts as being "published," but I'm proud of it anyway :D
Field Work By Finn Panther
The only thing more calming than the beautiful drive to the Colorado Rockies was the mountains themselves. An entire range of peaks, each with its fantastic view and each with its special prestige. Among the impressive peaks along the mountain range, a select few stood taller than the rest. And to climb such a mountain was a feat indeed. These peaks were widely known as the ''14ers,'' an exclusive list of mountain peaks soaring above 14,000 feet in elevation. Colorado alone held fifty-three such peaks, and the most prestigious feat among mountaineers was to tackle each peak in turn. If the view from each peak was not reward enough, then the accolades from your fellow man certainly were.
Any mid-west mountaineer worth his salt cared about these mountain peaks. However, there was one who remained unimpressed. One who did not care if a mountain stood at 14,000 feet, or at 13,000, or if it was a mountain at all. For all he cared a ''mountain'' might as well be called nothing more than a very big hill. What did it matter, anyway? It was a big rock. One heaping, stinking big rock. And who was stuck at this big rock?
The most boring, unadventurous cougar of them all. His name was Clyde. And he was no manner of mountaineer at all.
Clyde was an average cougar. It was the descriptor that had followed him his entire life, and truly it was the descriptor that suited him best. He stood 5'8''. He bore average fur with average markings - even the black tip of his tail was averagely proportioned. He was the prototypical cougar, as bland and generic as the very rocks he had been commissioned to climb. And he was not happy to be among these rocks. Not happy at all.
''Stinking mountain! Stupid nature!'' Clyde cursed as though frustration alone could fuel his ascent. If only the cougar could care for the beauty around him - and what beauty it was! Majestic elk and bighorns rambled among the folds of the mountain, and while the peak became more jagged with every step, the vegetation behind him was a sight to behold. Up here, so high above the world, Clyde could see everything. The expanse of trees and greenery, the craggy dips and swells, and off in the distance he could see tiny homes and cities laid out in the valleys. He could even see Denver itself, sitting out there on the horizon. The sprawl of the mountain city was somehow poetic from up here in the sky. But Clyde didn't even give it a look. Not even a cursory glance.
''Damn it all to hell!'' The cougar had placed an errant paw on unstable ground, slipped, and cut his paw against a jagged stone.
''I'm a cartographer for god's sake, not a mountaineer! I have no business up here!'' Even more disgruntled than usual, Clyde sat on the most hospitable rock he could find and dug through his pack for his first-aid kit. ''I'll never agree to another of Rocky's ridiculous requests again!''
Bandaging his wounded paw Clyde whimpered in self pity, then turned his pain to anger. ''How does he rope me into these things? Apocalyptic conspiracies, survivalist classes? Blasted, bloody best friend has to be the chairman of the convention board. Then again, the cushy week spent in Vegas wasn't bad - but measuring a mountain!? I don't care how good a friend he is, I am NOT doing field work for Rocky again.'' Clyde put away the first aid kit and stood up to resume the task at hand...
~~~~
In the end, it didn't matter if Colorado boasted fifty-four ''14ers'' or only fifty-three. The 13,987 foot hill lowered no spirits in the Denver Tech Center hotel. The convention had grown with record attendance, and no matter Clyde's opinion the convention theme had been a hit.
''I think it went rather well,'' said Rocky. The other board members agreed. The theme had been everything they dreamed - the panels had carried clever monikers and the Colorado peaks had been celebrated by fur and fursuiter alike. The only thing left to do was make next year's theme bigger and better - and Rocky knew how.
The announcement was made, and Clyde groaned when he heard the news. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea: Celebrating the Rocky Trenches of the Deep. Clyde heaved a sigh, felt seasick already, and muttered to himself,
''I am NOT learning how to scuba dive.''