My schedule was arranged, plane tickets purchased, and car rented. I was off to hike Section O of the Pacific Crest Trail-alone.

I prefer to backpack in the wilderness with one to three companions for various reasons, the least of which is personal safety. But, after numerous inquiries and pleas with no takers, I was committed to hiking the 84 miles solo.

People rolled their eyes when I told them I'd be hiking by myself. I assured them that, yes, I had heard of the guy who cut off his arm and no, I wasn't frightened (ok, so I lied a little). I told friends and family my estimated start and finish dates and locations, and when to send out the rescue squad. My wife planned to meet me in three days. I desecrated my G5 silicone-impregnated nylon backpack with a cell phone and walkie-talkie so I could communicate whenever possible.

Though I have covered hundreds of miles on solo day hikes, this would be my first night alone in the wilderness. My imagination was vivid. Soon after embarking, I checked the map. There would be water at (unfortunately named) Deadman Creek. I recalled one of my patients telling me he witnessed two mountain lions carrying a deer carcass nearby. For encounters with large predators I was carrying my Moki MK920 seven-inch knife, a la Crocodile Dundee and a serious jolt to my ultralight system. With this weapon, my GoLite umbrella, and Leki trekking poles, I thought I might be able to fend off lions and bears like a circus trainer.

Yet, as the sun started to sink and the forest darkened, other fears came to mind - nocturnal creatures and fictional characters like the boogieman, ghosts, gremlins, elves, witches, werewolves, and vampires. I pictured these stars of various horror movies, Grimm's Fairy Tales and nightmares and shivered.

"Was that 'Bigfoot Inn' I passed on Highway 299?" I asked myself. "And what about those fellas at Hat Creek? The ones who carve wooden bears using chain saws? Where do they go at night? And Camp Ah-Di-Na, isn't that where the guy with the white goalie mask hides out?"

I consoled myself that Brian Robinson had spent many nights alone (he does sleep right?) and that there was a California Conservation Corp (CCC) crew working nearby. At least I thought they were from the CCC. That is until it occurred to me that they might be part of a chain gang.

At 8:45pm I made camp. I tied my Ursak to a tree and added a bear bell for an alarm. I set up my single wall Tacoma tent using my trekking poles and kept my knife and whistle close by. After reciting the twenty-third Psalm, I turned out my light and closed my eyes.

When morning broke, I awoke and realized that I'd survived! It was no big thing anyway. I hiked more confidently after that, feeling like I'd passed the initiation. Next time, I'll just bring my trusty 1-½ inch Micra knife. The squirrels won't have a chance.