This piece of work is directly inspired from my life experiences. For some people, it will be too much. It will be too raw, too blunt, too much to handle in one sitting. For others, it is my hope you can read this with the understanding we all carry pain, of all kinds, deep in our hearts. Most people are too afraid to share their stories for fear of rejection, humiliation, or shame. It is our stories that can inspire others to keep their chin up, to keep plugging away at those dreams, to keep our hearts soft and open to new experiences and relationships. To live a life filled with love and peace takes a lot of hard work, forgiveness, and sacrifice.

Unplugged

A month had gone by and I was on Kodiak Island. I had been unplugged now from television, computers, and my phone for over a month. All of the campgrounds were packed so I just drove to the road's end of Kodiak Island. At the end of the road, there were what I thought at the time, ATV trails.

I drove my truck on the trails as far as I could go and I parked. I planned on hiking and taking photographs of the wildlife. I had hiked about five hours or so, and around fifteen miles into the wilderness, when all of a sudden, I smelled something rotten. It smelled dead. It was like the worse smell I had ever smelled. Where I was, at the time, the trails had narrowed down quite a bit and the alder bushes were so overgrown I could reach out both arms and touch the bushes marking the edges of the trail.

There is a lot of truth when people say it is good to unplug for awhile and find yourself again.

All of a sudden, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. I could feel the energy of something just on the right side of me, in the alders, but I could not see a thing because it was so overgrown and thick. Suddenly, my dog was sitting on my feet, whining as she pissed all over my hiking boots. For a moment, I thought what the hell am I doing? Nobody knows me here. Nobody knows where I am. I have hiked at least fifteen miles into the wilderness, alone, with my dog. So, I slowly turned around and began to hike back the trail to where I had left my truck, miles away. Every step I took, whatever was on the other side of the alders, took a step with me. I now, could hear breathing and it wasn't mine, because I was holding my breath.

I still, could not see anything in the thick alder brush. I began to pick up my pace. I had a backpack on my back with my lunch in it and an extra camera bag. The energy around me was filled with sudden fear, with the wild idea in my head I might have stumbled upon a serial killer or something. I have watched a lot of movies in my time and have heard stories of people going to Alaska to hide out. At this point, I had walked at a pretty quick pace, up and over quite a few mountain ridges, and had covered quite a few miles. The heavy predator energy still hanging to the right of me. The hair on my neck and arms was still letting me know there was danger all around me.

By this point, I felt I was being stalked. For over five hours, it was the most intense feeling I have ever had. At the last mountain, I headed up a very steep hill. When I reached close to the top of the ridge, I stopped dead in my tracks. There were huge fresh tracks in the mud right in front of me. The tracks were so large, both of my feet would fit inside of one of the tracks and still have 8-10 inches to spare. The predator had crossed over in front of me and disappeared into the alder brush on the left side. At that moment, I looked down. There was a huge pile of bear scat, with steam still rising from it. It was the biggest pile of bear scat I had ever seen in my whole life. I knew it could not be a black bear, but a huge male grizzly. I forgot to mention one important thing. I was on my period.