This post will be challenging to write for two reasons; one, it shows the degree of extreme isolation and "in my own wordism", two, I have to figure out how to put into words something I have never talked about, something obscure. Bear with me.
I grew up in the city. Grand Rapids, Michigan is a pretty large metropolis teeming with small city parks but lacking in grand open areas of forest or nature. One could not go on a 5 mile hike within the city, of course. It's a city with all the pavement, sidewalks and buildings.
When I was in my 40's and 50's, I had moved to northern Michigan which provided wide open spaces and bigger parks. I remember thinking the sidewalk along Grand Traverse Bay was quite the marvel as it stretched for miles. I hadn't discovered state and local parks that supplied trails, of any kind, really, short, long, wooded, pasture, etc.
While living in Manistee County, I had an acquaintance, a neighbor, who had children the same age as mine. One day she invited my son and I to accompany her to a local state park trail. Honestly, I had no idea what she was talking about. I was apprehensive but willing to try new things to enrich my kids life and to maybe make a friend. So, we went with her and her family.
The parking lot, if you can call it that says city girl, was a specified piece of cleared grass that had large rocks marking the area to be parked within. There was also a sign stating the parks name and a few rules.
I remember looking at the trail entrance. It was basically, a sheet, a wall of trees with a small, 4 or 5 foot pathway composed of dirt. It was scary because I could not see in, could not see what I was getting myself into. Out of visible range means the great and spooky and unpredictable unknown and I was quite dismayed that I was to be trekking in a place I could not mentally map for more than ten or twenty or thirty feet ahead.
It is important to, when at all possible, to have a guide on new experiences and adventures. I asked my neighbor how often she had been there to elicit whether or not she was familiar with the terrain and the trail. Her answer gave me an indication that I would most likely, though not certainly, be safe with her. She was pretty worldly and like, worked for the forest service or something so she appeared to be able to navigate the area quite well. I emitted a silent sigh of relief and closely followed her into the dark, shrouded woods of unfamiliarity.
It was terrifying, looking back. My pulse races as I write and I remember how incredibly close I walked next to her as we strode into this new experience. Trees on both sides and above me. Enclosed. Small and medium shrubbery, familiar but mostly unfamiliar. The ground was in continual...chaos. It was uneven. The surface texture and materials, branches, leaves, roots, pine cones, constantly was in flux. There was great uncertainty upon the forest floor. My vision was riveted to the floor the majority of time lest I stumble and fall. I was not used to this need to monitor and adjust to each step due to conditions. It was a lot of work to walk there. I had to remain focused on the ground, low hanging branches, changes in elevation. I rarely caught sight of the scenery during this first trail walk. I did admire greatly how the trails were well marked with numbers at specific intervals. I felt less lost whenever I encountered a trail marker like that.
I think the trail was about a mile or two. There was a multitude of trails and one had to pick how far and in which direction they chose to travel. My neighbor did pick a shorter route for which I was grateful. I was relieved to find that the trail ended back at the small grassy knoll. I was exhausted. This was all new to me.
A few days later, I asked my neighbor to allow me to accompany her a second time were she to go there again. The second time was easier, less stressful than the first. The third time was even less anxiety ridden and bordered on feeling pleasant. After many walks with an other, I was able to go for a woodland walk, on this specific trail by myself. It was such a huge accomplishment for me. I know, it seems an ordinary event but for Aspie, agoraphobic, PTSD ridden me, I did awesome.
I thought of this today, as I climbed up Vineyard Mountain, by myself, in the Willamette Valley on one of the many mountain, woodland trails that I walk. Today, I decided on a 3 mile hike. The views were spectacular. I am alone but it is okay. There is such such tremendous beauty upon the trails, especially here near where I live. I am so grateful that I was brave enough to conquer walking woodland trails, one step and one small hike at a time. I remembered how far, how courageous I really am.
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