A New Name

If you have read any of my blog posts, you'll know I'm notoriously clumsy.

Some people may say I'm a human cannonball; I prefer to call myself...spacially challenged. If there's something to trip over, bounce off of, smack into or demolish, I'll find it with great efficiency.

It's become a real joke among my friends that I need to either sit down more or create an entire wardrobe made up of bubble wrap and duct tape.

Well, I did it again.

This Wednesday was such a beautiful day here in the St. Louis area. The temperature was cool but still warm enough to not need a sweater and the sun was bright in an almost cloudless sky. The trees have begun to turn the many shades of orange and red that tell us that Fall is here.

When it's nice like that dear hubby and I like to hike in a local park. This time we chose Cuivre River State Park in Troy, MO. There's a trail that wraps around the lake there and it's just challenging enough to make it fun.

And it was fun. Until about half way around the lake.

That was when I got cocky.

It's amazing to me how quickly something awesome (the hike) can turn on you.

As I was motoring along on this very pleasant hike, I looked down and noticed that my shoelace was untied. I mean, that's bad; I didn't want to stumble over it and hurt myself...

In that split second of broken attention I stepped on a large, slippery rock, lost my balance and fell down on my right shoulder.

I saw stars.

It took me a few minutes to catch my breath. Don practically had to call a crane to haul me back up on my feet. I checked for internal and external bleeding.

So far so good.

Remember, I still had to hike the rest of the trail to get back to the car so I was thankful I wasn't really hurt.

But as we continued our hike I couldn't resist the urge to hassle dear hubby about his quick thinking (none) and his sympathetic spirit (also none) in my time of need.

In fact, he thought it was quite entertaining to see me tumble. He actually had the nerve to tell me,

"Honey, I'm going to induct you into a tribe and you will need a new name. I'm going to call you 'She-Who-Falls-Down-A-Lot.'"

I had a few names for him, too, but they weren't repeatable.

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.