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Camping Catfight
By Felix Gato
© 1999 Felix Gato

Hi! My name is Patti. I'm 24-years old, and have long, brown hair, almost to my back. I'm 5'4", and weigh about 118 pounds soaking wet. I have flashing green eyes and smooth, tanned skin. My measurements are 36B-24-26. I am spunky and tempestuous - as you will soon discover! I am writing this story so that the truth about our fight finally gets out. Donna made up and spread so many lies about what happened that I felt I just had to set the record straight.

As you can well imagine, a catfight is sometimes so intense, so personal, so vicious -- so ugly --that it just requires each girl to tell her own side of the story in order to get the whole truth. The events I am about to relate to you certainly constituted such a fight. Now in order for you to get both sides of the story and make it easy for you to read, I wrote my own version of the events in italics (like the typeface you're reading now). Donna's side of the story (which the bitch agreed to add when I threatened her again) are in regular case. So what follows is the story of how what started as a simple, innocent (mostly) weekend outing turned into one of the most vicious catfights I have ever participated in!

The fight occurred during a winter camping trip a couple of months ago. My new boyfriend and I had planned it for some time, but I didn't know until we arrived at the departure point that my hated rival for his affection, Donna, was going to be part of the group. The bitch is 22 years old, blonde, about 5'5" and probably 125 pounds or so, with a great 34D-24-35 body. Her shoulder-length blonde hair frames her pretty face perfectly, of course. Our rivalry has started when we were just schoolgirls, and had grown and festered over time until, as adult women, we really hated each other's guts! Having romantic involvement with the same man just added fuel to the fire, as you can imagine.

The group assembled under the watchful eye of our experienced friend (he's a professional guide), and we set out for an overnight winter camping excursion in the lower part of the Sierra Nevada. I tried hard not to think about Donna being along, but it wasn't working very well…

All afternoon, the hike hadn't gone well. The terrain wasn't as easy as we'd hoped, and the weather had threatened. It was impossible that Donna and I should have gotten separated from the others - (and from our common love interest!) but that's exactly what happened! I will never for the life of me figure out how that happened. To be separated from the remainder of our party was bad enough -- but to be lost with that bitch was worse! We tried and tried to find our way back to the others, to no avail. And then the light started fading, and night approached. To make matters worse, the wind had come up and the temperature had started falling rapidly. We were going to have to spend the night in the wild, that was for sure -- together in the wind, cold, snow, and dark -- alone and hating each other. Damn!

Donna had been such a bitch the entire hike. I still can't believe I followed her on that shortcut she suggested. And when we got lost, she wasn't even apologetic! I thought briefly it would be fun for wolves to get her -- but then I'd be alone in the woods, and that would be worse. Still, I wasn't at all certain how we were going to spend the night together. And the falling darkness made speed imperative. In spite of our many differences, we were both pretty experienced at outdoor skills, and managed quickly (thankfully!) to fashion a rudimentary but serviceable shelter against a tall rock wall and near some low-lying fir trees. It was funny how we could work together so efficiently even while hating each other.

The shelter was snug enough, and we spread out the only sleeping bag (it was a two-person model) we had with us on a bed of fir branches. The fire we built blew around a bit because of the wind, and snow had started to fall lightly, but we would be alright. At least the weather wouldn't get us! I was not so sure about what we might end up doing to each other, though.

Hi! I'm Donna. First of all, most everything Patti says about me is a lie, so you might as well know that right from the get-go. She insisted on writing about our fight, and there was nothing I could do except be sure my side of the story was told as well. I'm glad at least that I'll have my chance here to set the record straight.

So anyway, there we were - Patti and me, lost together in the woods. Again. We'd always hated each other, since we were teenagers. We just could never get along. We were both pretty and sexy in high school, and well-positioned in the social pecking order, especially during our final years. We were used to bossing around the other girls, and of making fun of the guys who always drooled over us. We tried to boss each other around, too, and I guess it's pretty obvious what happened with that. We had aligned ourselves with different cliques of friends, and that was the only thing that stopped us from tearing each other's hair out.

But remember I said we were lost together in the woods - again? You see, once before, during a high school camping trip with classmates, Patti and I had gotten separated from the rest of the group. She was a junior when it happened, and with her beautiful dark hair and petite but hot figure she had guys following her around all the time. I was a senior, and had a sexy cheerleader figure and full blond hair to go with it. The small brunette bitch felt threatened by me, and rightly so!

We had become separated from the rest of our friends on that trip, and had started blaming each other for getting lost. Our simmering hatred was coming to a boil. When our friends eventually found us (it was the racket we were making that drew them to us), we were on the ground - rolling, screaming and pulling each other's hair.

Our fight had been spirited, but amateurish, and inconclusive. We were pulled apart by well-intentioned friends, and the matter was never really resolved. After that, we graduated and didn't see much of each other anymore. But on occasion I still remembered how good it had felt - to give release to my hatred and the jealousy - and of course, to have her hair in my hands and cause that slut pain. It was years later now, and both of us had blossomed into mature young women, but I still occasionally regretted that we never got to finish our fight.

Even though we hadn't spoken much since, our paths still crossed occasionally. When we'd meet at parties hosted by mutual friends, we'd force polite smiles for each other, but I could sense she wanted to pull my hair out even as we made polite conversation. Fortunately (or not) we never really got a chance to indulge.

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