I have always been cautious of the forest, knowing my limits and never going too far when I don't know the area.

When I was younger, I lived in a place where my backyard

was the woods. I have always loved them and cherished the memories I have had in the embrace of

the trees. But recently something happened. I am figuring out where to begin since I haven't told

anyone this. If I go to the police, they'll wave me off and ignore me, so I am at a loss for the right

words. Even though this is a story platform, I would love recommendations and ideas of people

I can go to if anyone can help. But anyway, I love autumn and everything that comes with it.

The temperature change, the leaves, and the brisk air that goes into your lungs and fills you

with a warmer feeling. I love it enough to take time off work on an annual hiking trip. I live in

Alberta, only to take a trip back to Saskatchewan in September, going north and walking through the bush.

I am gone for a few days before returning home, but whatever.

I usually tent it and go for about 31 miles.

I have been doing this for the past six years and do not regret it.

I just got back from my hiking trip and strongly feel the need to write this.

I drove down a week ago and parked alongside the highway, getting up and venturing and

with a GPS, my phone, a book, and parked alongside the highway, getting up and venturing and with a GPS,

my phone, a book, and any food I needed.

It is always peaceful, with the initial few steps feeling great as I walk in, starting my trip.

I walked for the better part of the day, stopping a few times to eat and drink water as I walked nearly 12 miles on the first day.

I pitched the tent and headed in for the night, only to hear rustling and moving about

50 feet away.

I got up, looking out at the woods and couldn't see anything at first.

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