Confront Your Fears, Before They Confront You

I don't consider myself a particularly nervous or skittish person, but there are a number of things in the natural world that I find absolutely terrifying. Some of those things I'm slowly starting to come to grips with. For instance, I was rather terrified of snakes, mainly because I pictured an agonizing death scene if I were unfortunate to be bitten by one. One way I confront my fears is to do some research to find out more about the real versus perceived dangers surrounding them. Unfortunately, the good old internet only turned up the useless warning to get to a hospital within 30 minutes of a snake bite. While the AT is not too far removed from civilization, this would be pretty darn near impossible. Luckily, I recently met thru-hiker, Green Hornet, a former reptile breeder, who was chock-full of information about venemous snakes. As it turns out, you have a good 12 to 18 hours to get to the hospital, and most bites are not even fatal. Painful yes, but not fatal. For some reason I find this incredibly reassuring. I still watch where I step.

Another one of my fears is lightening. I really hate being in storms, and I especially hate being outdoors in storms. Put me on a ridge in a storm, and I'm pretty much out of my mind. Unfortunately, this happened to us last week while we were in High Point State Park. The temperature was climbing into the 90s, as we climbed rocky ridge after rocky ridge. We finally came out to an outcropping that overlooked the lake where we were heading for an afternoon swim break. All of a sudden a giant lightning bolt struck the lake, splintering out across the surface, and accomplanied with a resounding boom that echoed through the valley. It was still sunny at that point and we had no idea that a massive storm system was moving across the country. Then the clouds started to roll in and the thunder got louder and more frequent. We kept moving, but the trail was taking us higher and higher. Our data book had some incorrect mileage information so we had no idea how long it would take us to get to the ranger station.

As the storm moved in, we made the decision, largely due to my own overwhelming terror, to stop and wait the storm out. We moved as low as possible, which wasn't very low and took off our packs and sat away from our metal trek poles. The storm moved right in over top of the mountain, basically the highest point in New Jersey. The lightening and thunder were continuous, and very close. The rain came down in sheets, soaking us through within seconds, and the air temperature dropped immediately. Another hiker soon joined us. My terror turned to numbness, as I realized we probably should have kept going...we were in at least as much danger sitting still up there. By then, the rocky trail had transformed into a stream and it would be a treacherous descent. After, what felt like an eternity, but was probably about 30 minutes, the rain and lightning let up somewhat, and we headed the rest of the way over the ridge. Shaken and shivering, we soon made it to the ranger station, only to find out similar storms were expected for the rest of the day. No swimming at the lake for us! We ended up checking into a motel, while I sat watching the weather channel for the rest of the evening. Every hiker we ran into over the next few days had a terrifying story about at least one of the storms from that cold front. M and I pay attention to the weather reports, and usually don't hike in severe weather, but sometimes it sneaks up on you. I haven't heard anything reassuring about lightning, though, so unlike the snakes, I still consider it one of my biggest fears.