We walked late into the night, through fallen trees and trails that we kept losing.
With the flashlight on, I hear a rustling next to the trail. He looks like a skunk. Beaker is a little ahead, so I call him to check the animal.
As I wait for him, I see the very distinctive reflection of a pair of bright yellow/green eyes about five meters away from us in the woods next to the trail.
«Jaime!» I scream, frozen where I am. The situation is so serious that it requires the use of government names.
Funnily enough, since I listened to a podcast about aliens today, my first sleepy thought is that I’m looking at an alien. My second, deeper realization is that I might as well be looking at a mountain lion.
My eyes adjust to the darkness and I am even more certain that what I am facing is, in fact, a large cat.
I see the pair of eyes blink and then float into the darkness. I’ve had enough encounters with bears to know not to run from animals that could eat you if they wanted to. Beaker catches up to me and I do my best to point out and communicate what’s happening.
We grow big, facing floating eyes and shouting with confidence. I don’t feel any confidence at that moment.
This journey has felt like a crash course in fear. Time and time again I find myself facing that feeling, learning to separate constructive fears from irrational ones. Reminding my nervous system what fear is for and then groping through it. This fear is anything but irrational.
It didn’t matter that we were screaming about how scared we were. Predators don’t care about the things smelly hikers have to say. The only thing that mattered was that we looked loud and big.
After a while, we walk again, turning frequently to look behind our shoulders for glowing eyes.
We set up camp, grateful to be warm and safe. I pretend that our dynema tent will keep us safe from nearby mountain lions while I fall asleep.
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