Then call on me on the day of distress; I will rescue you, and you shall honor me. ~ Psalm 50:15, New American Bible
Have you ever been afraid?
I’m not talking about everyday fears, like seeing a snake in your yard or going to the dentist.
I’m talking about terror. The kind that makes your heart feel like it’s going to jump right out of your chest. The kind that stops your breathing. The kind that haunts your dreams afterward.
That happened to me recently, and I assure you, it wasn’t fun. Even now — more than a week later — I shake when I think about it.
It began with Walktober.
I’d been pondering where to take my annual group walk and finally decided on hiking at a nearby lake. The Internet told me there were nine miles of trails and, while I’d never been there and didn’t know what to expect, I walk every day.
How hard could it be?
Arming myself with sunscreen, hat, sunglasses, and bug spray, I took off.
When I pulled into one of several parking lots, I looked around for other visitors.
Not a soul.
Then I checked for directional signage to the trails.
Nothing.
Then I spied a path that seemed to lead in the right direction toward the lake, and I entered it. At first, it struck me as rather narrow, gravel and dirt covered, and a slow but steep downward trajectory…
That quickly became a Drop. Straight. Down.
I found myself running. Like a demon was on my shoulder. Unable to stop, unable to grab something — anything — to break my descent. Gravity was taking over, and I was panicking.
At the bottom was an asphalt road. I dared not fall. Twist an ankle, break bones, get run over by some idiot in a maintenance vehicle.
So I leaned back and SCREAMED aloud a prayer for help.
After what felt like forever, I reached the end of the path — still upright and in one piece.
My prayer had been answered!
Yes, I was winded and shaking like an autumn leaf. I struggled to catch my breath. My heart was pounding.
But I was alive!
Then I saw the right path — graveled, but wider — circling the lake, and I started walking. Slowly.
This was the right path — hilly and gravelly, but walkable. That thing I took first was a disaster waiting to happen!
About halfway around, I came upon two women chatting on a bench. We exchanged pleasantries, and one said, “You know there’s no cell signal around the lake, right?”
Well, no, I didn’t know that. If I had, I’d have never embarked on this little venture in the first place.
I’m not a “nature girl.” I grew up in a city — a small, rural one — and hiking by myself in the woods isn’t something I do.
Nor should I have done it this time, despite the pretty pictures I got.
But, should I be foolish enough to try again, here are some things I’m filing in my Live-and-Learn folder:
1) For hikes, wear sneakers with treads, not fashionable flat soles (yeah, I was worried about gooey mud).
2) Remember that critters occupy woods. Snakes, deer, rodents, and so on. I’ve heard they probably won’t bother you if you don’t bother them.
3) Don’t be in such a hurry to get started that you don’t fully examine the surroundings. Somebody should’ve placed a “Danger” sign blocking that treacherous footpath.
4) Be sure at least somebody knows where you are. Taking off solo isn’t good planning, just in case you run into trouble.
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 
Wow …. No signs, no cars, then a steep gravel trail you didn’t know where it was leading – let alone no cell signal & the wrong shoes. You are gutsy but you made it safe and sound.
Gutsy? I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m more inclined to call it foolish! I certainly was determined to get my Walktober post done before bad weather set in, and I knew we were running out of time for peak color viewing. What’s the saying? Haste makes waste!
PS: Off topic – but I can’t recall if I told you this. If I already did, my apologies.
This is something that many blog owners don’t know happens on their blogs – but encounter it when commenting on others. After readers submit their comment, a “Subscription” popup box appears. This is something WP added (and annoys many). I recently learned how to remove it if you don’t want it.
If you want to disable it, go to your Dashboard, then Settings > Newsletter …. In the first box, turn off “Enable subscription pop-up for commenters” …. then Save.
Frank, bless you for adding this!! I’ve long been frustrated by WordPress trying to manage everything on blogs. Yes, it’s their platform, but forcing things like signing up for subscriptions is overkill, I think.
You know, another thing I’ve noticed is that my comments (and replies) show up twice — forcing me to head to my dashboard and trash one. Do you have a fix for this? I haven’t made any changes to cause this, but I suspect it’s WP again.
Oh, and yes, I followed your advice — fingers crossed, it works!
Thanks, Frank! Those pop-ups drive me crazy so at least now I’ve disabled it on my own blog, perhaps saving someone else’s sanity!
OMG Debbie, my heart was literally pounding as I read what had happened to you. It was like something you see in a movie that’s not real, but ends up BEING real.
I would say that your guardian angel(s) were definitely with you that day. Thankfully!
“4) Be sure at least somebody knows where you are. Taking off solo isn’t good planning, just in case you run into trouble.”
Good one! And that’s something we would never think about. Particularly being someone like me, who has lived in cities most of my life, where there is usually a lot of other people around.
Thanks for sharing your experience, my friend. And I’m SO glad you’re okay! X
Thanks, Ron. Yes, even a small-town person like me is used to having others around. It was such a beautiful day that I figured lots of people would be out at a lake, taking advantage of Fall’s last gasp. Being out there — just me and the critters — was a bit unnerving.
I guess that’s why I was assigned the angel I’ve got. I keep the poor creature busy with protecting and guiding me! And I don’t think he looks a thing like that frail old man in the nightshirt who saved Jimmy Stewart in “It’s a Wonderful Life” either!
We’ve had days of rain this week and are expecting a cold front over the weekend. Maybe at last we’ll get rid of this humidity! XX
Oh, my! Glad it all turned out well.
Thanks, Laurie. I imagine it’s my writer’s brain that keeps “seeing” what *could* have happened. I feel very fortunate none of it did.
That does sound scary!! You’ve set yourself some sensible rules for the future. I’m glad I can walk right here on our own property (which I think has cell service everywhere). And I always wear hiking shoes!
I’m glad you came through the experience unscathed! (well, physically, at least.)
Kelly, I usually do my walking on a mostly level playing field (neighborhood or treadmill), so I’m fine with walking — I just didn’t know these were “hiking trails.” I’m glad I left the Monk at home. I’d have been so concerned over his safety that I wouldn’t have been cognizant over my own. Hiking shoes would have been a better choice. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of the day scraping off mud!
Some good, sound advice there. Glad you came through without a scratch (except maybe to your psyche)!
No scratches, nothing broken. Thank goodness! I guess what they say about one never being too old to learn something new applies, huh?!
I’m glad you escaped unharmed. You certainly did get some great photos! Your set of guidelines for the future are good. I always wear actual hiking boots; even sneakers can be problematic. You’re right that most critters won’t bother you if you don’t bother them first; mosquitoes being the primary exception!
You probably won’t ever be in places with tall grass, which is where I’m especially cautious about snakes, but in cool weather snakes will sometimes take to sidewalks and paths to warm themselves. They don’t want to bother you, they just want to warm up. Just walk around them, or wait for them to move on. They often do when they spot YOU.
Having taken a wrong path or a few dozen in my time, I’ve learned to read the land. Even in the most primitive areas, if they’re meant for public use, will show signs of trail maintenance. If I find myself facing a thicket, or if the path suddenly becomes just a faint dirt trail, I turn around. The one exception is deer trails, which I’ll follow, but that’s not your kind of deal.
Letting someone know where you’re going’s a good idea. I almost never do; I just take off, and often end up somewhere other than my intended destination anyway. But I’ve learned a lot about being in nature, and am pretty confident of my abilities to cope. The only time I get really nervous these days is driving here or there; the number of crazy, fast, erratic drivers on the road (especially those in huge trucks) drives me crazy.
ps: take note of Frank’s advice!
I did, and now you shouldn’t have to see that annoying popup!
I had to take care of it, too. I didn’t realize it was on my blogs until I signed out and looked!
Now, I hope somebody can tell me why my comments — and replies — occasionally show up twice. I haven’t changed any settings, but this is a nuisance.
I always avoid tall grass, Linda (ticks, you know). And I didn’t see any snakes, though I heard lots of scurrying that I attributed to squirrels or chipmunks. Having a creative bend, I tend to scare myself when I’m in unfamiliar territory!
I admire your ability to read nature, but I can’t ever see myself competent in that area. I’d have probably enjoyed having Monkey with me just for the company, but I’m glad I left him at home. I shudder to wonder what he’d have done on that drop-down itty-bitty trail … with me hanging onto his leash for dear life!!
And you’re so right about the crazy drivers, especially those in big semis. I’ve seen too many not paying a bit of attention to the road and traffic to feel comfortable myself traveling alongside them.
Well, the shoe thing could be the key to disaster or a happy ending, with or without cell service. I’m glad you’re fine, and your pictures sure were PRETTY!!
Thanks, Dawn. I do think the pictures I got were worth the angst, and I’m happy I went out there. If nothing else, it proved to me that I’m not as wimpy as I sometimes fear!
See? You are NOT whimpy!!
Yeah!!
OOps I don’t think I spelled wimpy right. 🙂
I looked it up — “wimpy” is correct. Not that it’s a word I use every day, ha!
So glad you didn’t fall. Hard to believe there were no signs telling you which way to go. Not sure I would go back there.
I could see the lake far off from where I parked, but I didn’t know how to get there … without flying! “Flying” down that steep slope, though, wasn’t what I had in mind.
😳
Oh my goodness, Debbie, what a frightening misadventure! I appreciate the advice in your Live-and-Learn folder. I’m glad you’re okay and that you still managed to get some great pictures!
Thanks, Barbara. I, too, am glad this thing turned out better than it could have. It sure would’ve been nice to have some signage though.
Oh Debbie, what a terrifying experience! So glad you didn’t injure yourself. I’m not much of a nature lover – I like other people’s pretty pictures much more than the experience of hacking through the undergrowth and dealing with critters and insects. It seems outrageous that they didn’t have a warning sign at the top of such a dangerous path.
Right? I guess they thought people were smarter than to traipse down something like that, but I was on it before I could think clearly. Imagine bringing Monk on something like that and having him yank me clear to the bottom. Ugh.
I’m so glad that this misadventure had a happy ending! Yes, I think it’s best to always go with someone when you hike, especially in an area that doesn’t have cell phone service. Live and learn, as we always say! (And don’t feel badly, we’ve all done something similar. And far worse, usually!)
Thanks for trying to make me feel better — you succeeded! Yes, it was worthwhile to get those glorious pictures, and I feel all healthy and stuff after hiking around that lake — I still wish I hadn’t nearly ruined my day with blundering down that steep path!