The "Wild"

I headed outside around five o’clock into the Chagrin woods. I got outside before it rained so I could set up my tarp and hammock without rushing. It was a hot 72 degrees, but the air was full of moisture. With nothing to do I decide to hike down to the Chagrin River. The hike down is more difficult than usual; the heavy rainfall of the previous few days has made the ground unstable and mushy. The woods have a relaxing earthy smell after rainfall that currently invaded the expanding territory. I feel like being away from technology and other people for a few hours has allowed me to take in different information that I normally would not have.

Bored from reading for so long, I take a note from McCandless, and venture off into the woods looking for an adventure. It is around 8:00 pm judging from the height of the sun—give it another hour and I will be swallowed up by the darkness. I just finished reading the last eight chapters of Into the Wild and in order to process what I’d read I went into the wilderness. I struggled to feel truly alone outside though, I had my phone with me and if I really needed to, I bet I could scream for help and I’d be eventually found. Is it possible for me to be alone in the wilderness such as McCandless was (at least in my community)? In order to answer this question I hiked in every direction until I ran into some sign of civilization, interestingly, it didn’t even take me all day. When I walk north I cross the Chagrin river and reach Chagrin River road. When I walk east I hit Fairmount Boulevard, west leads me to South Woodland Road, and south leads me to County Line road. It barely took me five hours to reach all the roads. I find it truly shocking that for months McCandless was able to survive off the land with limited to no contact with civilization, while it only took me a few hours to find some. In my solitude, I tried to better pair myself with nature. I put down my book, turned off my music, and closed my eyes. Picturing myself in the forest, I focused on the sounds of my surroundings until I locked in on the sound of what I believed to be something walking in the forest behind me. Whatever it was, it was very small and very close to me—not too small to not worry about. Turning around to see nothing, I brush it off as my imagination but returning to my hammock I hear a clicking behind me once again. This time, I mask my footsteps (my presence) by taking off my boots. This time, I see a brownish-grey squirrel staring at me from a nearby tree. It looks angry. It must have felt my presence and recognized by position in the woods. This experience made me realize that there is a natural order of the woods—expectations—that the animals are privy to, but as someone not often in the woods I do not have a defined important role. All I have there is a presence; to the animals my presence is probably one of obstruction or intrusion.