Nate Grayson unhooked his canteen from his belt as he plodded. Not wanting to fall farther behind, he mechanically continued trudging as he gulped the cool water.
I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve stayed home.
Returning the canteen to its spot on his hip belt, Nate pushed his glasses up on his sweaty nose and tried to quicken the pace. He was breathing hard, but he wanted to close the gap between himself and the hikers ahead. To relieve his aching shoulders from the straps cutting into them, he reached back with both hands and pushed upward on the bottom of his backpack.
Even the girls are in better shape than I am. Why did I come?
Nate already knew the reasons he had signed up when Pastor Drew — who goes by “P.D.” — announced plans for a wilderness faith trek. A hiking trip in the Rockies had sounded like an awesome adventure, and Nate hoped that spending time with the youth group would help him to fit in.
What made me think I could fit in with them? he thought now. I’m not sure I fit on this planet.
Nate squinted into the lowering sun. Following P.D. and Mr. Tice, a volunteer leader from church, were the seven other teens from their little youth group. Jesse and Mark were on the varsity football team. Coral was a cheerleader. Tony ran track and cross-country. Diana had a fantastic singing voice plus a bubbly personality. And the blond twins, Lisa and Lara, weren’t athletic, but they were so cute that everyone automatically liked them.
Nate pushed his glasses up his nose for the hundredth time. I’m the only geek in the group. We might all be Christians, but I still don’t fit in. So what if I can rebuild PCs and paint pictures? Nobody cares.
It wasn’t as though the other teens openly mocked Nate. P.D. would have squashed anything like that. But Nate knew they didn’t accept him, either. The others were attractive, popular. . . .
They think I’m a geek, he concluded with a sigh. Girls don’t even look at me.
Edge of Camp
The group ahead had halted and dropped their backpacks. This level patch would be their campsite for the night. It had some trees for shelter, and the rock face it nestled against would be good for climbing.
When Nate caught up, the others were already feeding aluminum rods into the sleeves of their dome tents. Nate gratefully eased his pack to the ground and massaged his shoulders. He removed his glasses and wiped them with his T-shirt.
“Say, Nate,” P.D. called. “Mr. Tice and I will set up the tent. How about scrounging some wood for a fire?”
“Sure,” Nate mumbled.
Even the youth pastor’s request was a reminder that Nate was different. Nobody had invited him to share a tent when they’d chosen partners back at church. As the odd man out, Nate ended up being the only teen to sleep with the adults.
Tromping into the woods, Nate studied the surrounding trees. OK, which kind of wood will make the quickest fire?
His eyes halted at several white pines. Bingo. The dried resin in pine branches should get a hot fire blazing in no time.
Realizing the dead branches on the ground had absorbed moisture from the soil and would be harder to light, Nate began snapping dead limbs from the trunks.
I wonder if Jesse the “quarterback hero” would know to do this?
No Thanks
The next morning the group practiced rock climbing and rappelling. Days earlier Nate had hesitated to edge backward over a cliff with only a rope, harness, carabiner and belay device to support his weight. But P.D. had repeated, “Trust God, and trust your gear.”
By now Nate was comforted to think he was climbing rocks and descending the rope nearly as well as the others. He didn’t want people whispering that the girls were better rock climbers than he was.
“Lunchtime,” P.D. announced when they returned to the campsite. “Every tent cooks its own.”
P.D. soon had a flame going on the portable burner, and Nate tore open a packet of Richmoor chicken and rice.
One more week of freeze-dried meals. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into some real food, like stuffed-crust pizza with extra pepperoni!
After eating, Nate wandered over to Jesse, Mark and Tony huddled around their camp stove. The three looked especially intent as Jesse stirred something brown in a frying pan.
“What’s cooking?” Nate asked.
“A treat for our tent,” Tony replied without looking up. “We found a bunch of mushrooms growing over there.”
Nate’s gaze shifted from the skillet to the direction Tony had pointed. He walked over and picked up a remaining mushroom.
“Wait!” he said, running back as the three boys took their first bites. “These aren’t edible mushrooms. They’re poison.”
Mark and Tony spat out their mouthfuls, but Jesse paused in mid-chew, regarding Nate skeptically. “They don’t taste poisonous to me.”
“Believe me; biology is one of my hobbies,” he said. “Some delicious mushrooms can make you sick or kill you.”
Attracted by the commotion, P.D. appeared behind Nate. One glance at the frying pan and the raw mushroom in Nate’s fingers, and P.D. said, “Are you guys nuts? Spit that stuff out, or I’ll be dragging you home in body bags.”
Jesse emptied his mouth onto the ground.
Nate plodded back to his tent. He half-hoped for some expression of appreciation from the three athletes who nearly got sidelined from the game of life. He listened in vain.
There’s probably some unwritten code against thanking a geek.
Rock!
During the after-lunch study session, P.D. led the group in discussing the next three verses of Romans 7. The beauty of the mountains only magnified the meaning of God’s Word. The artist in Nate couldn’t get over the incredible view of peaks and valleys extending into the distance.
When the discussion ended, Jesse said, “Yo, P.D. Can we get some more climbing practice before the next hike?”
The youth pastor hesitated. The ropes were still set up on the climb next to camp.
“All right,” P.D. agreed. “Be careful. No injuries.”
Mark pulled on his climbing helmet. “We’ll be careful.”
Nate listened to the exchange. No invitation followed, so he sighed and reached for his backpack. He pulled out a PC World magazine and settled down with his pack for a pillow.
After a while, a frantic voice from above interrupted Nate’s reading. “Rock! Look out!”
He looked up just in time to see a falling chunk of granite glance off a boulder and impact P.D.’s head with a sickening thud. The youth pastor crumpled onto the dirt. . . . 
WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
Will the youth pastor survive? Can Nate come through . . . again? Watch for GEEK ON THE TEAM PART 2 next month.
