Hiking Alone WC 298

Hiking Alone

I was lost.

To make it even more unsettling, I was alone.

The sun was going down. I mentally retraced my steps: I had locked my car, re-tied my hiking boots, and set out on the trail...my mother's warning gnawing at my brain.

"Julie, take someone with you," she said. "It's not safe—a woman alone. And those trails are tricky."

“Thanks, Mom, I’ve got this.”

“And, Julie, I heard there’s some strange guy accosting hikers on--"

"Okay, Mom," I interrupted and hung up the phone.

She treats me like I'm ten years old, not twenty-five! Ever since my dad died, the hovering has gotten unbearable.

I think I can use the GPS to find my way out.

I reached into my pocket for my iPhone. It wasn’t there! I had left it and my compass on the front seat of my Chevy. Brilliant move. I did have my canteen; I took a swig of tepid water as I contemplated my next move.

The sun sets in the West ...

I headed down the trail toward the setting sun. I stopped. There was a dead bird on the edge of the trail. It looked like something, or someone had snapped its neck. I covered Miss Wren with leaves and made a burial mound of assorted rocks. I said a prayer and then headed out again. My imagination ran wild as the sounds of the forest attacked me.

It was dark by the time I found the parking lot. I was unscathed, for the most part—just a bit shaken up by the ordeal. Luckily, no strange guy had snapped my neck.

On the whole, it was pretty okay. However, I will never go hiking alone again. I’ll always take a hiking buddy…

But please don't tell my mom.