Know Your Surroundings

I can’t sleep so here I sit in bed with the computer on my lap. My fall retreat that I had looked forward to so anxiously abruptly ended tonight. I have mixed feelings about it but what happened is something I just have to accept.

The day began quietly. I stoked the fireplace and made breakfast. It was cold outside but the view to the west indicated that the rain and overcast clouds would soon pass and the possibilities of a beautiful September day were strong.

After reading most of the morning, I decided to take a walk down to the water. Trails meander around the small bay and following an overgrown path I reached the beach. In the summer this is an ideal location for sunbathing and swimming. Today, whitecaps and dark water discourage any ideas of sitting out for long. I followed a flock of seagulls standing along the shore. Aware of my presence, they moved in sync with me so I was never really close enough to get a good photograph. I took 7-8 photos and decided to return to the cabin.

As I approached the trail that circles around the bay, I spotted an eagle soaring overhead. I pulled out my camera with its new telephoto lens. Again, I was outwitted by nature. A second eagle had now joined the first one and the two circled and braided their tail winds outside the range of my new lens. What I captured looked more like a silhouette than a photograph. At least I can say I saw eagles today.

On my walk back to the cabin I encountered a fellow photographer also in search of eagles. I was taken by surprise by his appearance for this was the first time I had encountered anyone in the preserve. We traded pleasantries and I went on my way.

An hour later while watching for wildlife on the dock, a woman and young man came walking up the trail to join me. We talked about eagles, moose and the cougar sightings. I had inadvertently admitted that I was staying alone in the cabin. The woman pointed to my front porch and referred to it as “her front porch” a statement that I had found odd. After a few minutes I said good-bye and went inside. The woman and young man walked past the house and down the trail.

After dinner I went back outside. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a gray car leaving the area behind my cabin. I had not seen the car arrive nor in my trips to bring in firewood, saw the vehicle parked. At this point, my instincts heightened and my mind began to run amok. I had broken the primary rule of being in the wilderness: know your surroundings. In my desire to make this stay an inner exploration, I had been lax in my attention to what was happening around me. I didn’t think about the consequences of being a woman alone in a remote cabin. I had come prepared with adequate clothing, food and first aid kit. But there was no cell service at the house, the closest neighbor a ½ mile away and the preserve was open for anyone to use. To top it off, I foolishly told two strangers that I was there alone.

I decided to spend the evening at my parents, an hour away. Quickly pulling together my most valuable possessions, I doused the fireplace flame, locked the doors and drove off. Tomorrow I will return to pick up the rest of my belongings, clean up the cabin and spend the remainder of my retreat in the comfort of my parents’ home.

Did I overreact? Most likely. But in violating the rule of knowing my environment I put myself in a situation where anything could have happened. Too often I focus on keeping safe around plants and wildlife, but I also need to be alert to what is often the most dangerous animal in the woods: humans. I ignored the fact that small game season was in season, hunters with dogs and guns. I gave out too much personal information. I hiked alone in an area where no one knew where I was and I had no way of communicating out if an emergency did occur. These are foolish acts, something that I knew better than to do.

So here I sit, wide awake in the middle of the night. This is not my isolated cabin but a warm house, my parents sleeping only feet away. The gravity of my actions haunts me and keeps me awake. Stupid, very stupid.