There was something freeing in the limited way I could take in the world through my eyes. My other senses were freed to run wild. I could hear better, smell better, feel the air and the ground underfoot better.
The trail was a three mile loop, and I knew it by heart. I was about 1.5 miles in when I heard a rustling in the underbrush near the trail. I don't live in bear territory, and there was very little animal life in the woods I frequented that could harm me. So, I wasn't worried. I figured it would be a opossum, though it sounded larger, or possibly a raccoon.
I paused, and watched for a moment, and the sound stopped. After a few more seconds, I turned to continue, but when I turned around there was a dog on the trail.
At that point I was scared. I had a walking stick that I used, and old hockey stick cut to size, but it was my only option as a weapon. At that point, an idea came to me.
The dogs barked, and growled, and leaped at branch on which I was perched. I climbed a couple branches higher, and watched in disbelief as they ripped apart my discarded backpack.
I slept in the tree until morning. From the safety of the tree I searched the woods around in all directions, but saw no sign of any dogs. In the daylight all things seem safer, so I hopped to the ground, gathered up the remains of my pack and walked back to the trail head and my car.