Gotta wear your yellow pages in this park

So things here stink pretty badly. This week has just been disastrous, so to clear my mind, I will share an experience I had Friday. So....I am usually in the mood for adventuring of any sort. Late Friday afternoon, on a very balmy 45 degree Virginia day, I decided to go for a light hike. Having been stricken with the flu (even though I had a flu shot.... that I did not want in the first place... but trying to tell ye olde medic about creating a super-flu is like talking to a heap of guano....anyway...) I wanted to find a local park where I could take it slow. I pulled out my "handy" dandy (all of you German speakers should get the pun) blackberry and searched for some nature area in the vicinity. The closest result was Appomattox Regional Park. I had seen signs quite a few times, and attempted to find it once, but every time I looked, I seemed to wind up in the Federal Corrections parking lot. Being adventurous, I decided to try once more. Well, trusting the technology in my car, I once again found myself in the parking lot of the county prison...lovely. I mean, hey, I miss Miller, but I am not quite looking for a nice "pen pal" who simply got "screwed by the system."
After thinking about this for a few minutes with my doors soundly locked, my thoughts were interupted by my Magellen prompting me to take a "left turn in .5 miles." Ellen, as I call my GPS, must be losing her mind! But as I was about to lose faith in my computer friend, a bumpy dirt road caught my eye. Putting my car in gear, I continued on my journey. My poor V-Dub didn't want to get dirty..."you just washed me," she cried! You all must understand, that my dear car is a very spoiled prissy girl. With my mind set on finding this place, I ignored her, something I never do. In a way, I wished I had listened.
With Ellen rooting me on, I traversed the dirt road. After driving a minute or two though, I noticed a figure in the distance. As you all know, my eyesight isn't much to write home about, so I did not immediately think much about the fellow. As the road was not well cared for, I was driving slowly to minimize my car's complaints. Well, as soon as I took one good gaze at the guy, I said "Sorry car" and and nailed the excelerator. Picture this...a deranged looking Paul Newman (as he would look now, i.e. decomposing) in 1980's styled clothes carrying a paper bag, i.e. his possessions from prision! Well to any sound-minded individual, one look would make anyone pull a u-turn and get out of Dodge. As I had explained earlier, I had been having a bad week, so I wasn't quite thinking with much sense, so I just kept driving. Within 5 or so minutes I reached the trail head and got out. I had a lovely walk and took quite a few photos, none of which were superb, but a couple were alright. I safely hiked back to my car, hacking and blowing my nose the whole way. I am not sure what made the ax murderer not turn around and come dismember me. I like to think it was God looking over me, as I think He sometimes does, but with all liklihood, the crazy killer heard me coughing up a lung from a mile away and didn't want to come within miles of Typhoid Mary. Another day without being hacked to bits by a guy who should be on CSI...that is a victory in my book.