On Being Afraid

I have been hiking alone for years. I traveled across the country and lived in my car and tent alone for three months. I like being alone. I love meeting and connecting with new people, I love my very social job waiting on tables, and I love being with friends and family. BUT, I also love being alone! People are always asking me: "Aren't you afraid?" "Weren't you afraid traveling alone?" "Aren't you afraid of all the crazy people out there?" Well, no, I'm not. I don't think about it. Oh, I hear about horrible things that happen everywhere. Even though I live without a television and rarely look at or read the news, there always seems to be someone around to inform me of the horrors of the world. But truly, those horrors are few. Really. The world is not an evil place, full of evildoers. It's a beautiful place, full of beautiful souls! I meet them everyday. They just don't make the news. If it's not bad news, nobody wants to read it. Or watch it on television. Sad to say, the happy stories just don't get that far.

I was afraid though for a few minutes on this most recent trip to WV. I had forgotten it actually to write about it in my initial posting. But, here it is now...

A week or so before I went to WV I spoke to a woman with the department of forestry. I was looking for maps of the area. She told me to be careful out there, and to also leave a note in my car telling exactly where I was going so that if I didn't show up when I was supposed to they would know where to look for my body. Ok, that's not how she said it! She went on to tell me that someone was missing in the Cranberry Wilderness and had been since June. No trace of this person anywhere. No backpack, nothing! I parked in the same parking lot where this person had parked to go into the wilderness; there were signs posted in several areas asking people to be on the lookout for any signs of... Of what? Well, anything unusual I suppose. This did not scare me though. Stuff happens. If I die out in the wilderness, I die having lived a fulfilling life.

Anyway, After hiking about 11 miles I was done for the day. I found a spot across the river (the Williams River) that looked like a good flat area to camp. I crossed the river and found a spot to set up my tent. After setting up my tent I went in search of a place to hang my food. Along this flat area there was a steep bank going up to another flat area. As I was looking up to see if I might find a tree up there I saw what appeared to be a blue backpack. OMG! My heart sank. I felt sick for a moment, even a little bit scared. I didn't really want to go up and see what it was. But, then again, what could do? Leave? What, without knowing?? What if....? Anyway, I climbed up the bank to check it out. And, it was two old pails that were a tarnished, bluish color from years of weather. Whew! Silly me : ) The Middle Fork Trail runs along an old railroad grade, and so there are remnants of those days in the area.

Ok, but I was scared for a few minutes!