I’m walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line of the edge
And where I walk alone
–Green DayIt is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of a good pair of walking shoes, must be in want of a man to walk with her.
–With apologies to Jane Austen
Sportiness is not something I have ever been known for, but I do love a good solitary ramble. If that solitary ramble can take place on a trail in the woods, it’s even better. I walk, I take pictures of tree parts and clouds, I listen to my heart beat, I smile and I enjoy the quiet. It’s the best enhancer of inner peace and serenity there is!
There’s only one problem. Men.
They’re dear, sweet things and I’ve already established my cred as a man-lover, so hear me out. Men make it almost impossible for a woman to enjoy being anywhere secluded on her own. Yes, even though the vast majority of them aren’t “like that.” Even though it’s statistically very safe on the trails around Portland. All it takes is one lone man doing..something…nothing…just being there…and as a solitary woman I have to be on guard.
It ruins the inner peace and serenity that is most of the reason I’m there in the first place.
It’s not so bad in the Summer when there are more people on the trails. That way one solitary man doesn’t stand out as much. In the Winter, things get a little harder to assess. I stay to the main trails where visibility is good, don’t go into the woods at all, and generally don’t enjoy my walk nearly as much as I might if I could go where I pleased.
Often a Winter walk becomes something to be gotten through. Just exercise, not pleasure.
One Winter afternoon when I was home from work, a rare sunny day, I decided to go for a quick walk in the park near my house. In the Summer, there are always a lot of people there, but during the Winter there are seldom any people there except a few dedicated dog walkers. When I parked my car, I noticed a guy who poked his head out from behind a shrub. When I noticed him, he ducked back behind the shrub.
Hmmm.
In the Summer, I probably would have just waited a minute until a family walked in and followed them. In the Winter, there was no one else around so the weird guy hiding behind the shrub was quite noticible. While I was trying to decide what to do, he peeked out onto the trail a few more times. I decided not to take a walk after all.
He might have been waiting for a friend, and just peeking out onto the trail quite innocently. In fact, he probably was. I opted not to take a chance.
Or there was the guy who was just sitting under a tree on a trail this morning. The totally deserted trail. In the forest. On the cold ground. Maybe he was just enjoying the feel of the cold, damp earth on his butt. Maybe he was a serial murderer who goes after 20 year old blondes rather than 54 year old brunettes. That would explain his odd smile. Or maybe he’s just a socially awkward slightly dirty dude in a beanie who likes to sit on the ground because he was raised by hippies in a commune near Dexter and he likes to be in contact with Mother Gaia. Who the hell knows?
Not me, and that’s the point.
He was sitting there, in all likelihood quite peacefully. He was probably just enjoying the weather like me. When I saw him, I stopped enjoying the weather and the sound of birds and started listening for his footsteps behind me instead until I rejoined the main trail several minutes later.
Did he do anything wrong? Of course not.
What we need is a world in which women feel just as safe enjoying a solitary walk as men do. Where we can walk to our cars after dark without looking over our shoulders or finding someone to walk with is.
This is a minor annoyance in a world in which most people have it far worse than I do. I grant that. I am blessed to live in a state with such wonderful city trails and paths. I am blessed to live in a place that still has beautiful green places to ramble in. I just wish I could enjoy them in the same unfettered way that men do.
It would be easier if I had a man with me. Then I wouldn’t have to wonder. Just wander. Of course part of what I love about walking is the solitude. Just me and my thoughts. The sound of my feet hitting the ground. Woodpeckers. Kids laughing in the distance.
In order to enjoy the trail while feeling totally safe, I have to give up the solitude.
It’s not a horrible tradeoff, but it is one, and it’s one that makes me angry.
As a society why are we so content to accept that it’s OK for women to be worried for their own safety?