Spooked & Rejuve'd

I think it's a combination of being cooped up all winter and the influence of the books I've been reading recently (A Walk in the Woods, by Bill Bryson; AWOL on the Appalachian Trail, by David Miller), but I've been craving wilderness lately. More specifically, I've been wanting to wander, roam, explore; I've been wanting to get lost in some small, relatively controlled way. I wasn't looking for a Blair Witch experience, nor was I modeling my adventure after Chris McCandless' experience in the Alaskan wilderness; rather, I was hoping for a day of solitudinous wandering through the winter woods.

So, as a birthday gift to myself, I took last Friday off from work and went for a hike in the woods. I drove about an hour west of Philadelphia to a back-country loop-ish trail on the outskirts of French Creek State Park. The trailhead was not actually in the park but on a rural back-road. There were two other cars parked in the lot, and as I pulled into my spot, the sound of dueling banjos crept into my mind. Deliverance, anyone? The banjos grew louder as I stepped out of the car and into the deafening silence of the wilderness. This was the first sign that I've been living in an urban area for awhile... I am so used to a constant stream of white noise, to the point where deep quiet was alarming at first.

Ahhh, but then I heard the whoosh of wind through the trees and inhaled the cool, crisp air and instantly felt at ease. I geared up, crossed the street, and slipped into the woods. Right away, I saw a man who was leaving the woods, and we quickly said hello. I don't know why, but something about this man spooked me out. He just didn't seem friendly, in fact, he seemed suspicious, guilty even.

As I walked along the early part of the trail, I couldn't shake the thought of this guy. I kept thinking, "ok, a strange man who gave me the heebee jeebees just saw me walk alone into the woods. There is only one other car in the lot, which means that there is only one other person somewhere along this entire trail. If that guy wanted to do me harm, he could easily find me and rape me, kill me, whatever". Seriously, these thoughts infiltrated my mind and made me paranoid for the first leg of the hike. This was sign number two that I've been living in Philadelphia for awhile, as I never feel spooked even when walking around different parts of the city at night.

It took me at least 30 minutes to realize that nobody was following me through the woods, trying to kill me. I finally realized that my concern, while valid, had escalated to an unsubstantiated paranoia and was interfering with my birthday wish of enjoying wandering through the woods. So with that, I made a conscious decision to stop worrying about being all alone in the big scary woods and start enjoying the fact that I was indeed all alone in the beautiful, quiet woods.

The rest of the day was exactly what I had hoped for. Although the trail was semi-blazed, there were several sections of trail that were unmarked and I literally felt lost. But it wasn't like "I'm in the middle of Siberia" lost; It was like "I can always backtrack if necessary" lost. I encountered the one other person on the trail roughly an hour into the hike. We exchanged friendly hellos, talked about how gorgeous the day was, and wished each other a good hike. It felt liberating to wander and find my way. I crossed multiple creeks, navigated some rocky terrain, and climbed up some steep hills. I also discovered some excellent moss specimens, some of which were sun-kissed. Need I say more? Other than the sounds of my own steps, the wind, and the occasional animal, all was quiet. No people, no cars, no phone, no tv, no nothing. It was like the quiet car, but without the car and all of the people. It was bliss.

I did a lot of much-needed processing during the hike, too. I came to some realizations, fleshed out some creative ideas, let go of what needed to go, picked up some new curiosities, and expressed gratitude for where my journey has taken me thus far. It's amazing what a little solitude and fresh air can do for the psyche. Even though the I entered the woods feeling fairly spooked and like my life could potentially end at age 33, I emerged from the same woods feeling safe, triumphant and ready to embrace #34. Happy birthday to me :)