You never really think it’s going to happen to you. Sure, you’ve seen movies and TV shows about it and even probably read your share of books focused on the topic. But seriously, what woman thinks her husband is actively trying to kill her?
It all started with a hike. This hike was described to me by my husband as a way to escape the pandemic and commune with the wilderness. Well, consider me sold. I was up for it and excited about traipsing through the forest.
What I didn’t know was that this hike was in reality a death march.
When we arrived at the hiking path I was raring to go until I read an extensive warning sign at the entrance to the trail. It was full on doom and gloom.
I soon began to feel more than a little apprehensive. The sign even stated that before beginning the hike you needed to have on your person “10 essential items” from a compass to a first aid kit. We had one single thing on the list and that was water. There was also a bear caution poster that told you to “think like a bear.”
Hmm, not a bear but if I was one I believe my thought process would be, “My that human looks tasty.” Not to brag but I consider my plump body a most excellent bear meal or at the very least a lovely and abundant appetizer.
After reading all the signage I was ready to hike alright – back to the car.
But my husband assured me we would be bear aware and if we stayed on the trail it would be fine. Because I naively trusted him, based on decades of marriage, off we went.
For the first 10 minutes the trail was well defined and then it quickly morphed into rock quarry on a steep incline. I looked at my husband and asked him if anything about my appearance resembled a freaking mountain goat? I didn’t think so and I was certain my DSW tennis shoes weren’t hiding cloven hoofs.
Things got worse from there because we weren’t on a hike. We were scaling a mountain. Up, up and up we went with my husband shouting words of encouragement that, “it was going to be so worth it.”
About 45 minutes into this “hike” I was close to praying that a bear would “rescue me” because at least I could quit climbing over boulders precariously perched on the side of a mountain. At this point I wasn’t even walking upright. I was bent over like the earliest prehistoric man using my hands as I climbed the rocks to make sure I wouldn’t fall.
Once we were an hour into this trek of doom I figured out what was really going on. My husband was trying to kill me. It’s a simple but effective plan. A guy takes his wife out for a hike and oops she plunges to her death off the side of a mountain.
No one would doubt his story. Chubby, slightly older lady falls. It happens. I was so certain that this was my fate I screamed in anguish, “Why are you trying to kill me?”
He actually laughed at my misery and then minutes later yelled, “We’re here!”
Here was a beautiful lake tucked into the side of a mountain. Yes, it was indeed totally worth it.
Later, I told my husband I didn’t think he was really trying to murder me. I blamed the altitude. But, I don’t know. The more I think about it that hike had all the trappings of a “Dateline” episode in the making.
Snarky in the Suburbs 