I need some perspective here guys. I know it’s a cliché but I feel like I’m losing my mind. I just don’t know what to think anymore. It happened about a week ago. The day started as usual. I have this small wiener dog that I take on a walk every morning. He’s in good shape so we usually do about a 2 to 2.5h walk. His name is Schnitzel.
We’re lucky. My husband and I live in a small village, completely surrounded by forest. I was born here. My husband was one of the few tourists that came to check out our town a few years ago. We met at the local pub and after about a year of dating, we decided to settle down in my hometown rather than move to the city he’s from. It truly is a lovely, quiet place. Some (most?) might say it’s too quiet but we’re both into that so for us it’s as close to paradise as it gets.
About a decade and a half ago the town tried to put this place on the map, as they say. They launched a big campaign where they placed large billboards all over the country inviting everybody to our little piece of ‘extraordinary woodland’. Judging from the parking lots that were constructed all around the area, they were expecting hoards of tourists. Despite their best efforts, the expected flood of tourism never came. Occasionally some outdoorsy type will find their way here (my husband being one of them) but if every outsider that visited us last year came on the same day, we would still be able to fit all of them on ONE of the seven parking lots they constructed.
Nowadays the trails and parking lots are slowly being reclaimed by nature. Definitely a bummer for whoever was running the town back then (I can’t really remember, I was maybe 12) but for us locals, it’s wonderful. There are so many tracks to choose from. Granted, some of them you almost have to machete your way through, but the little plaques that you’re supposed to follow are still there so it’s pretty safe to wander around without having to be too afraid of getting lost.
The trail we follow forms a loop that we can connect to from the very edge of our property. Because we take this trail all the time a little unofficial pathway started to form through the bit of forest we have to cross to get onto the actual hiking trail. My husband built us a little wooden gate a few years ago just in case some other hikers get a little too ‘wanderlusty’ and decide to follow the tracks into our yard. Not that there are many hikers. It’s fun, Schnitzel knows his way and we rarely encounter someone else so I let him off leash and he can just hop around, chasing leaves and catching sticks.
Schnitzel was munching on his little pre-walk treat as I was sipping some tea on the porch while putting on my hiking boots. It was a very quiet morning, but nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. We got startled a little when a deer that had wandered into our yard suddenly made its escape. Schnitzel’s ears pulled back and she looked at me waiting for approval to go darting off after it. He’s a brave little sausage that one, I often wonder what he’d do if he actually were to catch up with many of his intended prey. But I nodded ‘no’ and being the good boy he is, he relaxed and got back to nibbling on his treat.
I followed the deer with my eyes as it made its way back into the thick of the forest. I love staring into the trees, there is always something that pops out of the seemingly unmoving mass of leaves and twigs, demanding your attention. I do it for hours when I have the time. I tried, in vain, to look for the little songbirds or the family of squirrels that I know live in the tree that branches over into our garden. But this particular morning nothing rustled any leaves. After the deer had made its abrupt exit the forest went quiet. After a few minutes, my gaze traveled upwards. That was the first time I noticed the mist. Of course it wasn’t the first time it was misty in the morning. But most of the time it hovered just above the fields and meadows. This time, it seemed stuck at the top of the trees. Like it hadn’t quite made its way down yet today. It somehow seemed thicker than usual. It looked like if I was able to reach out and touch it I would be met with something that would have more of a marshmallowy consistency. At the time it definitely captured my attention but it didn’t particularly strike me as too odd.
Schnitzel let out a little bark. I guess I took a little too long staring at the canopy. He finished his snack and was sort of urging me to get going. So I tied my shoes and we made our way to the edge of the garden, through the little wooden gate. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I chuckled when my little sausage tried to get over a fallen tree but got stuck halfway for a few seconds. About an hour into the trail, the road becomes rougher as tree roots stick out of the ground and there is some elevation gain in some parts. Nothing me and Schnitzel can’t handle. From that point on there is a ditch on one side of the road. About half of the year it’s filled with water but at the moment it’s dry and overgrown with grass and other plants. At a certain point, you come across a willow tree that grows out of the ditch and arches over the path. Once you pass that tree you walk for about half an hour before connecting to a bike lane that runs through the forest. Following this hardened road for a bit and eventually the trail loops back around to our property. I need you to understand: I know every inch of that trail. We’ve been walking it pretty much every day for the last 5 years or so. Ever since we got Schnitzel, this has been my daily morning routine. I know every tree, every protruding root, every twist and turn in the road.. So it doesn’t make sense that people keep insisting I must have gotten lost, that day.
Anyway, we were happily hiking along when suddenly I noticed the mist starting to descend from the canopy. It came down fast and it was incredibly thick. Not quite the marshmallow fluff I had previously expected but as I breathed it in, I could almost feel the weight of it in my lungs. I called Schnitzel over so I could turn on the little blinky light on his collar and tried to move on. You couldn’t see a meter in front of you, but looking at the ground you could still follow the trail. Schnitzel stayed close and when he ventured a few steps further his red blinker was visible enough to not lose sight of him. We continued our walk for a little while, hoping the mist would clear up. Unfortunately, it didn’t. It seemed like it grew thicker and thicker. I could taste it now. It was ashy but with an iron-like aftertaste. Very unpleasant. Schnitzel kept shaking his little head with his tongue sticking out so I think he tasted it as well. Scared I’d lose him in the fog, I put on his leash and slowly kept moving forward.
I could feel it before I heard it. When I was younger I suffered from panic attacks. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. It begins at the bottom of your back and quickly shoots upwards towards the back of your head. Like a jolt of electricity. It surprised me. I hadn’t felt like that in years. Schnitzel made me snap out of it. He let out a little whimper. When I looked down he was glued to my leg, tail tucked tightly between his legs. Whatever it was, he felt it too, I thought.
Then, out of the nothingness that had surrounded us, a growl. Not like any animal I have ever heard of. Besides, the forest wasn’t known to harbor bears and wolf sightings had been sporadic at best. But there it was again. It sounded closer. I got scared. The hairs on my arms stood up straight. My mouth felt dry. A painful tension grabbed me by the throat. What was it? What could possibly be growling like that? Was it coming for us? A loud cracking noise broke my thoughts. Was that a tree? It sounded like a tree just snapped in half?! I looked down. Schnitzel stood behind me, hiding behind my legs. He was scared too. The next growl send a shiver down my spine, it sounded like whatever it was stood right beside us. I picked up the dog and started running. I could feel something running behind us. It made the ground shake, sending a shockwave forward with every step it took. In the corner of my eye I could see the roots of the trees being expelled from the ground. As if grenades exploded underneath the ground. It was so hard to breathe, as the mist filled my lungs it seemed to collect at the bottom, almost pulling me down to the ground. My legs were about to give out. I squeezed Schnitzel for what I thought would be the last time. If this was it, if my legs were going to give out, I had to let him go so at least he would have a chance to get away from whatever was chasing us. Preparing to let go, I held my breath for a second.
The willow tree!
Somehow, through the thickness of the mist, I could make out its contours. A final fear-fueled adrenaline spike gave me the energy to take a few more steps. I ran as fast as I could and slid into the ditch, underneath the tree. Schnitzel was shivering, but luckily he stayed quiet. I tried to hold my breath but kept having to take huge gasps of air. The ground-trembling footsteps kept coming closer and closer. The growling grew more and more intense. It sounded so angry. I closed my eyes as the ground shook so violently I thought it was going to swallow us. Expecting teeth and claws to reach out from the fog, I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming.
Instead, the growling grew distant. The shaking was first reduced to a slight tremble before it stopped completely. Like it was being engulfed by the increasingly thickening mist. Then, silence. Absolute silence. You think you can imagine what that’s like, but I assure you, you can’t. The fog was now so thick I was choking on it. But what should have been a loud cough came out in complete silence. I looked down at Schnitzel. He was frantically barking in all directions, but he too was unable to produce a sound. I struggled to breathe, I was dizzy and my arms and legs felt heavy. I fainted.
When I opened my eyes the fog was gone. The sound of birds and rustling leaves filled the air. Schnitzel! I was worried he would have run away after I passed out, but he was still beside me. He yawned and stretched as if he had just woken up from a nap. Perhaps he lost consciousness as well. What the hell happened? I tried to get my bearings, but the trail seemed different. Like a massive storm just passed through. Maybe it did, maybe that’s what happened.. Maybe we misinterpreted the wind’s howling for some creature that chased us into a ditch. How long were we out? What if it was hours?! I worried about my husband. He works from home so he would have immediately noticed if I was late. I needed to get back, and tell everybody we were alright.
I grabbed Schnitzel under my arm, the trail was so covered in bits of bushes and vines, you’d barely know there was a path there at all. We walked around like this for about an hour before I started to fear something was wrong. We should have reached the concrete bike lane by now. Where did it go?! Whatever storm passed over us couldn’t possibly have completely covered an entire road, could it have? I let myself fall to the ground, holding my head, trying not to panic. I couldn’t be lost, we walked in the right direction keeping the ditch to our left the entire time. Schnitzel was getting antsy, he kept nudging my pocket. I keep his treats in there. How long had it been since we ate? Not knowing what else to do, I decided to go back to where we came from. I figured I must have made a wrong turn somewhere and started following a different ditch or something.
Another hour passed. I kept hoping we’d come across the willow tree we hid behind during.. whatever it was. But there was no willow to be found. Sure, there were plenty, but all were small and frail. Nothing like the big, sturdy one we walked passed évery morning for the last 5 years or so!
Admittedly, I panicked. I started screaming at the trees, angry about their seemingly nonchalant attitude toward our predicament. Eventually, I calmed down when I noticed I was upsetting my dog. We sat there for about an hour. Just thinking about what to do. I hated myself for not taking my phone with me that day. My husband always gave me a hard time when I did that. But the battery hadn’t charged fully during the night and I absentmindedly plugged it in before we left, thinking it’d be done by the time we got back. If we get out of this, I thought, my phone will néver leave my side again. I gave Schnitzel the rest of his treats. There weren’t many left anyway. I had decided the best course of action would be to just pick a direction and start walking. Sooner or later, I reasoned, I would have to come across some recognizable structure. At the very least we’d run into one of the many trail indicators. It took us hours.
Schnitzel was really struggling toward the end, but I couldn’t keep carrying him all the time. We both had no energy left. My feet were killing me. I had no idea what time it was, but considering how long we had been out here, surely it would get dark soon. I didn’t know what to do. We were exhausted. I let myself fall onto the ground. Schnitzel pretty much collapsed right beside me. I tried to comfort her the best I could by rubbing her little paws. You could tell they were sore from strutting around for what seemed like forever. I fought back the tears, trying to do the breathing exercises that I was thought to combat my anxiety attacks.
Look down - Breathe in for 4 seconds - Close your eyes - Hold your breath for 7 seconds while slowly raising your head until you’re looking up - Open your eyes - Breathe out for.. A light!
When I opened my eyes I saw a light through the trees. A second ago I could barely put one foot in front of the other, but now I was running. I swooped up Schnitzel like he was made of feathers and ran as fast as I could toward the light. The closer I got the more I started to recognize the trail again. The path became more and more defined. I was home!
The little wooden gate at the end of our garden nearly flew out of its hinges when I bouldered my way through. During the final dash, I started to yell towards the house: ‘We’re fine! We’re here! We’re back!’ Hoping my husband was home and not out in the forest with a search party. I swung open the door, half expecting the full accompaniment of the police force! Or.. at least one cop or.. surely the forest ranger would be there, comforting my poor husband, distraught with grief. But all was quiet. I stood there, exhausted, covered in cuts and bruises from rummaging through the woods. My husband came out of his office. He yawned and scratched his head. Coffee in hand. Confused about why I kept yelling at the house that we’d returned. He looked at the state we were in and jokingly said ‘Djeezus hun, did you guys decide to roll through the forest today?’.
So here I am.
My husband took me to the doctor because I told him what happened to us. That we were gone for hours, maybe days depending on how long we were passed out. But he doesn’t believe me. Maybe.. Maybe I don’t believe it either. We were gone for about 2 hours, he says. No longer than usual. The only proof I have are my bruises. But everybody keeps reminding me that I’m clumsy and it wouldn’t be the first time I came close to falling in a ditch whilst being distracted by a bird or something. Schnitzel doesn’t want to follow the trail anymore. I keep telling everybody that that’s not normal. He loved our morning walks. He frolicked through the woods.. Ever since that foggy morning he’s reluctant to go into the forest with me.. I don’t know.. perhaps everybody is right, perhaps he’s just reacting to my anxiety.. Could I have imagined the whole thing? Did I really stumble down the ditch, hit my head and in a brief moment of confusion, conjured up this elaborate experience in my mind?
They want me to start taking my anti-anxiety meds again and try to forget the whole ordeal. Is that even possible? Can you just get over something like this? Maybe if I had some actual evidence of what happened to us.. I can’t stop thinking about going back out there. With my phone this time. Surely if I had my gps and I could just take a picture of what’s out there.. People would have to believe me, right? If there is something out there in the first place. But then, if there actually is something out there that growls and shakes the earth when it moves, surely I should not be chasing it, right? ..right?
This morning, as I walked out onto the porch, the mist was up in the tree canopy again.