My purpose is not to frighten you, gentle reader. My intention is not to leave my fellow trail runners huddled safely inside of their homes or running only on the safety of pavement. I only want to warn you, to raise awareness, to protect you! For the Stick Man is out there, and we are his prey…

I was running alone one day, running up a steep trail that required more walking than I would like to admit. After a brief walk (let’s just say it was brief, okay?!?) I started back into my slow upward shuffle. After two or three steps a stick suddenly hit me in the back of the calf, causing me to yelp, stop, and look around for my attacker. There was a stick, sitting innocently on the trail. Did I step on it? Did I even see it before it whacked me? How did it hit me in the BACK OF THE CALF? I chalked it up to mid-run delirium and moved on.

And that’s just what the Stick Man wants us to do.

I was running with my daughter one day, running down beautiful, shady, smoooooth singletrack. I could hear her behind me. Then, suddenly, I heard her make that grunting sound that one makes when they trip. I waited, hoping to hear nothing but her continued footfalls, but instead I heard a thud and stopped. I sat down by her for a few minutes. We tend to be the “leave me alone for a minute or I will bite your head off” types when it comes to injuries, so I just sat quietly and waited for her to take stock. After determining that she’d kind of messed up her shoulder/arm, she stood up.

“But there was nothing there! It’s smooth!” she said.

We walked back up the trail and could see where her foot had caught a tiny root on the side of the trail. Tiny root. Really? Don’t believe it for a second. Those are the Stick Man’s minions. If I go back and try to find that tiny root again, you can bet it will be gone, moving to new ground, searching for new victims.

You think I sound paranoid? Okay, maybe. But think back…

Have you ever been tripped by a stick that WASN’T THERE A MINUTE AGO?

Have you ever been slapped in the face by a branch that APPEARED FROM NOWHERE?

Have you ever come home with obvious stick scratches but YOU DON’T REMEMBER HOW THEY HAPPENED?

Call me paranoid. Call me crazy. But am I? And if I’m just paranoid, just crazy, then why are there warning signs posted on so many trails?

I’ve tried to forget about the Stick Man. I don’t want to live in fear. But sometimes, when I’m alone in the forest, I hear a howling sound unlike that of any beast. I stop and listen. I try to pretend it is nothing. I try to explain it away. But I know what it is. It’s the sound that branches make when they rub together in the wind.

It is the sound of the Stick Man.

And he is watching me.