Scary Experience While Hiking

I thought it was over.

Every dire warning, every caution I had been given in the past rang chillingly in my brain.
I was in real danger here. And I didn't know how to rescue myself.

Even as I sit here sharing this experience with you I am reminded how many times I ignore really good advice. I am humbled by my tendency to rush blindly into things without being mindful of the results.

Here's what happened:

I love to hike. It restores me and refreshes my thoughts. While hiking I am reminded of the intricacies of God and how He cares about detail. So many things today (before my traumatic experience) showed me how God cares about things in nature most of us will never even see. It keeps my perspective realistic.

So here I am, about 2 or more miles on the hiking trail- about halfway. I've seen some people also enjoying the trail but hadn't seen anyone for a while.

Suddenly I became aware of a horrible, dull sound. Rhythmically following me. I tried not to overreact so I calmly stopped. Whoever or whatever it was stopped also.
My heart began to beat faster as I realized I was totally at the mercy of whatever it was that was behind me. I took a few more steps, sensing that someone was lurking behind me who meant to cause me harm.

It is true that your thoughts kind of race when you panic. In my mind I heard Don scold me for hiking alone, and other people warning me that despite my sense of safety I had to take steps to protect myself.

I promised myself that if I got out of this I'd actually pay attention to the warnings. I hoped I'd survive whatever this freaky thing is- what good is a lesson learned if you don't live to talk about it?

The sound grew louder and louder as I attempted to calmly continue along the trail in hopes of meeting another hiker.

No such luck.

This really wasn't funny, guys. I was terrified. How would my family fare emotionally if something terrible happened to me?

I determined that no matter what was about to happen, I would fight and I would prevail. I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts in anticipation.

Then I noticed something.

When I rubbed my hands on my shorts the horrible, menacing sound stopped. It changed into a soft swishy sound. I touched the sides of my shorts again to confirm my suspicions. And I laughed nervously.

What I had been convinced was a threatening sound was, in reality, my shorts legs rubbing together as I hiked. The heavy tread of footsteps behind me wasn't behind me at all, rather, it was the sound of my own steps mingled with the friction of my clothing as I walked down the path!

What a relief!

And how embarrassing.

I'm not really sure what the true lesson was in this except I shouldn't be hiking by myself in the near future.

Either that or I should bring talcum powder along with me.