the wild side

I'll admit to taking a proprietary view of this nature preserve where I regularly hike. When you spend so much time in a place, you feel like you know it well, even if it does surprise you with something new each time you visit. If I find trash (rare) along the trail, I pick it up to throw away when I get home. I take note of when a board is loose on the bridges and if I see a dropped object, like a hat or glove, I'll hang it on the nearest post for the owner to find. This spot is a gem. I love seeing other people enjoying it, but I really love how I mostly have the place to myself when I go there.

While I hike, I keep an eye out for what's blooming, what's dying, what's flying overhead, and what's scurrying through the underbrush. Seven deer live in the preserve. The back side of the prairie is the best spot for finding songbirds. There's a gnarly root on the steps just past the pond, so you better watch for it unless you want to twist your ankle. From June until September you'll always see toads hopping across the trail near the stand of cattails. At dusk you often hear turkeys roosting in the trees and they make a LOT of noise.

The peace and quiet is the other draw for me. I don't mind other people, fellow hikers are a friendly bunch, not super chatty (except for Pete, but he's a fascinating character with lots of good stories). Us regular hikers exchange a quick remark about how good it feels to be outside, how lovely nature looks, trail conditions, that sort of thing. Occasionally I get stopped for advice when someone's lost. I've encountered foragers, kids collecting sticks, family photo shoots, university students conducting wildlife surveys, birders, and runners training for races. Once I was on my way into the woods when this man ran out. He was heavily bearded with long hair and wearing nothing but shorts, which was astonishing because I couldn't imagine running barefoot on these trails. The man gave me a funny look and when I met his eyes to my surprise this mountain man turned out to be one of my son's old cross-country teammates! I meet a few people I know on the trail, but most days it's quiet. I typically meet more chipmunks and squirrels than humans.

Two weeks ago I was a quarter mile in and found a man sitting on this bench nobody ever sits on. This particular bench doesn't have a good view, it's too close to the entrance for someone to be tired yet, and it's on a rather narrow portion of trail along a ravine. All said, a terrible spot to sit. The man said, "Good morning! Is it still morning?"

I happened to know it was nearly noon, so I told him, "You're okay, it's still morning. Good morning to you!"

As I drew level with him, I caught a whiff of skunk. Gramps was enjoying a natural substance with a side of nature. I guess he just sat on the first bench he found. This wasn't my first encounter with a toker on the trail, but they are rare. Later I saw him again not too far from where I'd left him, where the trail splits to go around a pond. Gramps was baked. He'd stripped off his shirt and was all sweaty with a glazed expression, plastic water bottle in one hand, swaying unsteadily as he tried to make sense of the trail map nailed to a tree. As far as I know, he didn't drown in the pond and must've eventually made his way home.

Last week I arrived to find four cars parked near the entrance and I anticipated another peaceful, quiet hour in the great outdoors. The woods were oddly quiet, just the usual buzz of deer flies dive bombing my head and chipmunks rustling through dry leaves. Red winged blackbirds called to me as I made my way around the pond. Hiking in the summer is beautiful as the woods are lush and thick, but winter's nicer in many ways. For one thing, there aren't bugs trying to bite me.

I was halfway up the biggest hill when I thought I heard a man's voice, but I didn't see anyone on the trails around me. Sometimes the woods are sneaky that way, plus the pond can carry people's voices, so I kept going, assuming the guy was far ahead of me. A few minutes later I rounded a bend and was climbing another incline when I caught sight of a woman on the other side of this hill. She was throwing her arms around a man's neck. Because of the hill, I could only see their heads.

Oh my gosh! Did he propose? That's so sweet! I've never seen...

I advanced two more steps up the hill and more of the couple came into view.

OH NO! NO! NO! NO! WHERE ARE THEIR PANTS? WHY AREN'T THEY WEARING PANTS?

I hesitated for a nanosecond, approximately sixteen feet away from this couple who were...well, you get the picture.

It's daytime! Broad daylight!

They're on the trail. Not off to the side, not hiding in the trees, but right where I hike every week!

It's a public space!

What to do?

It took me a nanosecond to decide:They probably saw me anyway and this is my woods.

I lowered my head, kept my gaze on the ground, and called out, "Coming through!" to warn them just in case they hadn't seen me. I heard them react. I picked up my pace while looking in the other direction as I hurried past them, moving as fast as I could without actually running because the worst thing that could happen would be tripping and landing at their feet and OH MY GOD I WANT THIS MOMENT TO BE OVER I WISH IT NEVER HAPPENED!

I'd just gotten past them when the man said to me, "Sorry you had to see that."

And because I'm Midwest Nice, I automatically answered. "Sorry I ruined the mood. Carry on."

I motored down the hill without looking back. It occurred to me that you never see this sort of thing in winter because when it's cold out, people stay bundled up. No deer flies, then either.

The woods is a wild place.

And I prefer to enjoy it alone, naturally.