I’m not sure I believe in a sixth sense…or some other level of understanding beyond what is right in front of our nose. I’m a skeptic by nature and find myself consistently questioning…always needing some irrefutable proof or scientific fact to back up data. I rarely believe things I hear or read…until I’ve heard it from the horse’s mouth…and am definitely not someone who would be considered gullible.
But a couple of times I’ve…known…things. For instance, I “knew” when my grandfather died. I can pinpoint where I was when it happened. And we weren’t even close…but somehow it just came into my head and the next morning I got the call. I don’t know how to explain it and I’m guessing more than a few readers are thinking, “ohhh…she’s cuckoo….I see.” But it is what it is…and I can’t explain it.
Dan and I were driving through the mountains sometime around 2002 or 2003. We’d somehow managed to find someone to watch all the kids overnight and set out on a camping adventure in the mountains between Tillamook, Oregon and Portland. We spent the day on the coast and then headed up into the hills on old logging roads to find a fun place to camp. If you’ve ever been up in an old logging area, you know the options are limitless and the terrain sometimes rough.
We’d been driving around for hours, just enjoying being childless. It was well after midnight when we decided we would just head home. At this point we were many, many miles into the mountains and had not seen another person or vehicle for a very long time. Dan knew his hunting grounds fairly well, so he sort of knew where we were and that if we kept heading in that general direction we would come out on a main road. We weren’t ‘lost’ exactly…we just didn’t know where we were.
It was around 1 a.m. when it happened. For no particular reason at all…and don’t think I’m crazy…I got a flash of an image in my head. I saw a man ahead of us wearing camouflage, but there was no man there. A feeling of fright came over me. I turned to Dan and actually said, “If we see a guy in camouflage up here, don’t stop. Just keep going.”
“Okkkkaaaay…..” Dan said.
“I don’t know why,” I said. “I just saw it I my head. Don’t stop.”
And that was the end of that. Until ten minutes later.
We rounded the corner…and I’m telling you, this is the middle of nowhere…and there was a guy standing on the edge of the narrow dirt road, next to his truck which had a flat tire. And he’s wearing camouflage. Of course he is…
So what does Dan do? Why naturally, what anyone would do when their wife has a vision of a scary guy and tells him not to stop. He stops.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I repeated as he pulled in behind the guy.
He stopped. Damn Good Samaritan…
He patted the pistol next to the driver’s seat and though he would later tell me his heart was about to beat out of his chest, he appeared calm as he slid out of the truck and offered the fellow a hand changing his tire. It turned out, the guy didn’t have a tire jack, so Dan opened the back of our jeep to dig one out.
I admit, the entire time Dan was digging around in the back of the jeep, I was imagining myself pummeling the guy with the jack handle from behind. I’m not afraid to admit I was about to wet my pants. Having never had a vision before…or whatever it was…I was understandably a little on edge. Pants wetting in that scenario would have been acceptable, in my opinion.
It turns out the man was from the same small area where we lived and we had friends in common. He was very gracious and tried to pay us for our time. And I was nice enough not to attack him with my bare hands when he reached in his pocket for some cash…thinking he was going for a weapon.
We changed his tire, chatted about the neighborhood, and went on our way. He gave us good directions out of the woods that saved us a bit of wandering. But even as we drove away ahead of him, I watched my mirror; just sure the man in camouflage was the visitor from my late night vision into the future.
Please tell me I am not the only crazy one out there…