The Hike

For the most part I was a good kid. I did not cry all that much as a baby, if my parents said "no, you can't have that", I would nod in understanding and not ask again. Heck, my mother used to be able to vacuum right under my crib during my naps, and I would sleep right through the racket.

I was also able to occupy myself most days. Being an only child growing up in the country this was critical. I had no one else to play with. I am sure my mom and dad were grateful that I had a large imagination and the independence to go and play by myself instead of bothering them every 5 minutes.

There was the odd afternoon where I would become board with Barbies, making mud pies or catching frogs. It was on one of these rare occasions when I asked my mom and dad to go for a walk in the woods with me. They looked at each other, a sneaky grin creeping across their faces, and thought: "Gee, if we take her for a super long walk, she will be so tired she'll go right to bed. We won't have to read her a bedtime story. We won’t have to make her a bedtime snack. We can maybe get away with putting her to bed right when we get back from the hike."

Ok, so they never thought that.

Regardless, we set off for a hike in the woods. It was March, and the weather had been warming up slightly. Spring was right around the corner. I was bundled up in about 50 layers of clothing, causing me to waddle down the road to the entrance of the Forrest. I remember cursing my mother under my breath for making me wear so many layers. How was I supposed to keep up with my parents if I was waddling? My father is 6'3", and has a VERY long stride. Even today I need to do a half-jog just to keep up with him, so imagine a 6 year old bundled up in 50 layers trudging through the bush trying to keep up with her giant of a father......

So there we were, about 20 minutes into our little hike. I was panting from all of the excess layers and running to keep up with my parents, and cursing under my breath (ok, so cursing as much as a 6 year old would curse: "shoot" and "stupid parents"). I had no idea where we were. I'm guessing my parents did, but I felt totally lost. I was also getting a little concerned, because I could hear running water nearby. I did not recall there being a stream near my house. And I certainly did not think it was a good sign when I could hear cracking noises. I mentioned this to my mother, but I don't think she heard me.

I was just about to yell to my dad, when WOOSH, through the ice I went.

Now, I remember it being deep water, and me struggling to get out alive. I remember being weighted down with all of the layers, and fearing that I was going to drown in 50 feet of ice water. I remember pulling myself out of the hole, and shivering like a maniac. I remember saying "Nope, lets continue the hike", and walking for another half hour. I remember being bitter at my parents for not helping me out of the water.

My mom said the ice I fell through was over a little puddle-thing. She says it came up to my knees. She says there was no worry at all that I was going to drown. She says it wasn't even that cold. She says I just stepped out of the puddle-thing myself, and that there wasn't much her or my dad could do, seeing as I just stepped out of the puddle-thing. She says I was still dry because of all the dang layers I was wearing. She says they immediately turned back and headed for home, arriving 10 minutes later. She says I complained the whole way home. (I did no such thing.)

All I remember is being ticked off, wet, and miserable. I did however go right to sleep when we got home, so I guess my parents master plan worked. The sad part is that I am writing about this little incident many years later, so it must have left some sort of impression on me. I do still love hikes in the woods though!