CHAPTER FIVE
By the time I reached the tree line the sky was pitch dark, the air freezing cold, and I realised how hungry I was. I stood several miles from the orange glow of street lights and houses; and the moon was hidden behind continuous dark clouds. A blessing for someone wishing to enter the woods unseen. My only witnesses the wildlife I couldn’t see but imagined to be small mammals and birds, possibly deer too. I could hear rustling as they moved in the darkness, in trees and bushes, they remained invisible, as cautious as myself.
The blackness proved to also be somewhat of a hazard when that same someone was unfamiliar with the terrain, extremely cold and tired. The beam offered by my small kinetic torch was disappointingly weak, I tripped over tree roots and protruding stones several times, but continued walking, knowing that I had some way to go before I would reach the centre. As I had gathered from the map, there were no public footpaths evident, no ‘right of way’ signs, no gates nor styles. There was nothing to indicate that people had ever trodden here, I felt like an intrepid explorer moving into uncharted territory. The remoteness was all the better for me, I thought.
The hike, particularly the past few miles, had given me plenty of blisters and far too much thinking time. It was very easy to dwell on the loneliness I was feeling, already I was missing my friends, my family, the warmth and comfort of my flat, technology. But I reasoned that here at least I was safer - I was alive.
After walking for probably another hour I decided I must be somewhere close to the centre of the woodland, then I came across a small clearing. At its centre, balancing precariously at the edge of a raised mound of earth, stood an enormous ancient oak tree. Thick weaving roots exposed above ground and a long hollow gash at its base. The tree looked as though a fairytale giant lay beneath it and was pushing it up from below, creating this gaping crevice between the tree and the earth.
I grabbed at the roots to steady myself as I neared, it was steadfast and unmoving, evidently more secure than it looked. Still I was apprehensive as I approached, aware that I was totally out of my comfort zone and unable to shake the gnawing fear that I might disturb a wild animal that might suddenly leap out from the black hole as I got close, but nothing stirred.
The wind was stronger now and I felt a few spots of rain against my skin. Directing the torch beam inside I saw that the hollow space was easily large enough to accommodate me and my baggage. Tugging at my sleeping bag to unravel it, I stuffed it into the hole, and stowed my bags in alongside it. Leaving my clothes and shoes on I climbed inside the bag.
Checking my watch, I realised that it was still early evening. No matter, I was exhausted and needed to sleep. I was still hungry too, but far too tired to fix a meal, too tired even to reach into the rucksack for a snack bar.
For the woodland creatures, life soon returned to business as usual after the brief interruption by this stranger to their domain. Mammals scrabbled around and hunted for food, an owl hooted and flapped as it left the branches of a nearby birch tree, but I heard nothing. I slept without interruption for nine hours, until I was gently woken by the dawn sun light and chirruping bird song.
My body ached, but I had slept relatively well. I rubbed my face and looked out through the opening for a few minutes before moving, checking to be sure there was nobody out there waiting for me, or that there weren’t any unsuspecting passers-by and dog walkers I might startle by appearing from beneath the great tree. As certain as I could be that the coast outside was clear, I crawled out into the dappled sunlight and groaned as I stretched my limbs and back extensively. Surprisingly I didn’t feel cold, the tree hollow had provided excellent shelter from the wind, the rain seemed to pass over quickly. There was a little frost that lay on the ground below and glistened on leaves and branches.
Reaching into the rucksack I extracted and rapidly demolished the snack bar. I was still hungry, but needed to explore the immediate area to ensure I was where I’d hoped I would be, somewhere nobody would find me, somewhere safe.
In order to establish all potential points of entry to what I wanted to become my safe area, I needed to take a good look around. After all, the area was so dense with foliage I might be closer to a concealed footpath than I realised, and the last thing I wanted was any surprise visitors, be it police or innocent strangers.
I looked across to the bushy area where I’d entered the clearing the evening before, then headed in the opposite direction. I ventured further and noticed that there were no pathways worn down by footfall, no signs at all of human interference, I wanted to keep it that way so I consciously tried to make my way with care, leaving branches as intact as possible, avoiding placing my feet on plants or other ground foliage.
As I proceeded, I gathered up fallen sticks and looked forward to building a small fire when I got back to what I now thought of as base camp. I still felt warm, but every camp needs a camp fire, and besides, it would be good to boil some of the bottled water I’d brought for coffee.
At this early stage of going ‘underground’, things still held an element of excitement for me, though of course I was simultaneously scared and fairly paranoid, though some might reason that my fears were quite justified. Holding on to the ‘I’m just having a camping trip’ idea was perhaps a coping mechanism under such frightening circumstances.
Just twenty-four hours before, my life was very ordinary and uncomplicated. I was still sleeping in a warm comfortable bed. Even then people had wanted to kill me, but I didn’t know about it then. Ignorance was bliss. Now that I did know, everything had changed, and could never be the same again.