about those serial killers

I wrote in my other blog about my latest hiking adventure – I had about an hour before work to go geocaching in an area that I had hiked once before. the trail goes about 5 miles in either direction of the only parking lot.

but when I got there yesterday, there was already a jeep parked in the little lot. I considered leaving, aborting my hiking/geocaching mission, but I went ahead and parked anyway. I noticed pretty quickly that the jeep had a geocaching sticker on it.

well that’s not so bad! while I’d rather hike totally alone, it wouldn’t be so bad to run into a fellow geocacher. I decided not to leave, but go ahead and hike.

before I left the parking lot, he returned with his treasures in hand (a rack of antlers and some geodes). we introduced ourselves in the geocaching community way, and he offered to hike with me.

about 10 minutes into the hike, after he had already led me away from the trail, and I could no longer see the parking lot or the road, I realized how strange it was that I was walking – entirely alone in the world – with this total stranger. a man much older and much more in shape than me. it crossed my mind that this was idiotic and insane for me to do.

but I cast the thought out of my mind – it was probably just another one of my paranoid thoughts.

I can’t tell you how many times a day I become convinced that a “bad man” is after me. every single day, I am convinced that “he” (whoever “he” is) is hiding somewhere in my apartment – in one of the closets, under the bed, even crouched under the lowest shelf of my bathroom closet. when I take a shower, I wait for him to rip open the shower curtain. when I open any door, even a tiny closet, I am braced for him to grab my arm. when I open my front door, I’m sure he’s waiting to nab me. when I get into my car, I am positive that he is crouched in the back seat.

but there’s never anyone there, and I know I’m just paranoid.

so surely the thought that his man – who was obviously a kind hearted man who had made geocaching into a serious hobby – could be a predator was just another paranoia.

tonight my mom called me, partly to chew me out for going on this hike with him. for even hiking alone in the first place. none of my defenses mattered, so I just stopped saying anything, except variants of “uh huh.”

didn’t I know about serial killers? didn’t I know that two young girls had already been murdered this year – one of them decapatated? couldn’t murders be geocachers, too? it would be the perfect way to lure girls like me into the woods! and once they killed me in the woods, there would be no way for them to ever get caught!

my mom’s boyfriend said that it was her fault for raising me in the country – I was too trusting. he said she should have raised me in the city, like he did his kids. then mom decided to put him on the phone to talk to me, even though I told her no.

he told me horror stories about his kids in the inner city. then about a serial killer truck driver, and a serial killer mexican who rode the trains around the US. both of them killed women, then drove on, killed more women. didn’t I know about these stories? no? well I should read the paper more!

I felt humiliated while they both talked at me. I didn’t say much, and I quit arguing. there was no point. but I do have arguments.

one, geocaching is a legitimate hobby and community! sure, you’re right, murderers could be geocachers. but the guy told me all about the community – the locals get together every week or so to chat at restaurants. online, everyone knows everyone else by their screen names and what little information they choose to share about themselves. I read online that the guy who hiked with me was a retired teacher.

it’s ridiculous to ask me not to hike because or murderers and rapists. the feminist in me completely revolts at that. it’s the same as me not wearing skirts because of men, being afraid to walk on streets alone because of men, and the list goes on and on and on.

the answer to violent crimes against women has been for women to be on guard. if anything happens, it was that woman’s fault for not being safe enough!

I revolt against all of that. I started wearing skirts again, I refused to stop walking at night when I wanted to (okay, I don’t do that now that I’m in the city), and I refuse to stop hiking alone. I KNOW that hiking alone is dangerous. but I don’t CARE. because hiking is one of the few things that makes me feel better about my self and my life. people can’t ask me to give up the few things that make my life meaningful. hanson concerts, writing, children, my career, hiking – those are the things I won’t give up.

it would be perfectly wonderful if I had some form of a companion to hike with me. I would definitely love that! but I have no such companion, and no one to fend off potential murderers alone in the woods. the fact that I am alone does not stop me from doing what I enjoy. I realize that it’s not safe, and I’m sorry for that, but I can’t stop doing what makes me happy.

okay, so my argument here is pretty stupid and faulty, huh? it’s the humanist argument – “do what makes you happy.” sometimes what makes a person happy causes harm to others, and in this case I’m allowing possible harm for myself.

alright, so maybe I am too trusting of others, and it is completely stupid to go hiking alone. fine. then I admit it – I do stupid and unsafe things, like hiking alone, that could get me killed. I really hope I don’t get killed. but I’m going to keep doing such stupid and unsafe things anyway. and that’s what remains of my argument.