Bumping my head in the beginning

Starting out on a new venture takes a certain amount of courage. You don't know what you don't know, and there is a high likelihood that you will make mistakes or get hurt. I literally got hurt when I first began expressing my inner wild woman.


Braving the forest

There is a lovely park near my house, a converted golf course bounded by a wooded area with streams and a couple of dams. My guide dog Tango loves to run free and play with the other dogs, so I try to go at least twice a week. My habit is to walk along the dirt road in the open area where I can vaguely follow the edge of the track because of the shadow cast by the tufted grass.

On this particular day, I did something different. Spurred on by my determination to follow my wild nature, I decided to let Tango lead me along the trail away from the dirt road. I kept her harness slung over my shoulder and used just the leather lead, trusting she would stick to the path. For a while, we walked happily over little wooden walkways that traversed the streams and through tall grass that rustled as we passed. Ground-birds squawked as they tried to draw our attention away from their nests. Ducks quacked somewhere up ahead. it felt wonderful to be walking on a trail I had not explored alone before.

Then my shoulder connected with something that made a sound like the flapping of aluminium wings. I stopped short, realising I had walked slap-bang into a cycling marker. Fortunately, no damage had been done, either to me or the sign.

Then, a little further on, I slipped off the path in the dense shade, striking my head on a tree-trunk as I fell. I sat down to inspect my knee and forehead. There was some mud on my jeans and a tender spot on my hairline but my hat had served as protection.

By this time I knew I needed to get back onto the dirt road where I could avoid uneven ground. Harnessing Tango to be sure she would find the way as she had been trained, I set off again. We were on a different path, one that led uphill, and it was then that I realised we were high up on the dam wall with steep slopes on either side of the path. i was so worried about sliding down into the water that I walked with my eyes fixed on the ground in front of me, and that was how I ended up almost breaking my nose on a thick bough leaning over the path.

Injured and sore

I was so shocked by the impact that I clung to the bough and let the tears gather in my eyes. What was I doing out here, wandering around in dangerous territory as a legally blind person? I needed a proper guide. I needed a personal trainer who would walk with me. What if the bough I had walked into had bristled with thorns or, worse still, stabbed me in the eye with a protruding branch?

Feeling my nose, I concluded that it was badly bruised but probably not broken. There was no blood and no scraped skin. Nevertheless, it served me right to venture into the forest unaided. Tango was trained for road work and guiding me through built-up environments, not for hiking rough terrain. I would simply have to keep to the dirt roads when I was walking her in the park on my own.

What I gained apart from a black eye

The experience taught me a valuable lesson. As someone with severely impaired vision, I must not go off-road, especially if I am alone. Exploring new territory is fine as long as I know what to expect, and that generally means going with someone who can alert me to dangers on the path.