Did he really just???
Unwanted encounters on the road
8:30 pm
Thursday, September 5th. Gallup, New Mexico.
Today was day 30 of my two-month Wild, Willing, and Wise book tour. I was driving between a book signing event at Picnic & Provisions in Chicago and a weekend workshop in Sedona. Yes, looong drive.
Five hours earlier I had learned that my dog, Demi, was dead. I still had five hours to go until I arrived in Sedona, and I needed to sleep, and grieve. So at a gas stop I searched for a place to park myself and Aenea, my home on wheels, for the night.
I booked spot #65 in Red Rocks Campground, Gallup, $40 a night. I pulled in an hour or so after dark; everyone was already tucked in for the evening, tents and large RVs. Since I wasn't sure where I was going I pulled the truck and trailer over by one of the bathrooms and started walking, looking for my spot.
I also just wanted to walk, and stretch, and feel the earth after hours of driving.
As I wandered through the campground looking at the numbers I passed 80, and later 25. Where the hell was 65? I came around a bend and heard a voice call out to me:
“What are you looking for?”
“I'm trying to find 65,” I said into the darkness.
“What number am I?: I looked up and saw a white car parked next to a post. As I walked closer I saw it was spot #63.
“You are 63, fabulous!!! I'm 65. Thanks so much!”
I walked back toward the truck and trailer, and wove my way around the dirt roads toward the general area of 65. I got lost a few times taking the wrong tiny road, until I finally arrived. But in my exhaustion as I tried to back the trailer in I kept turning the back end too close to the tree and too far from the power. I stopped to assess, and realized that I actually just needed to pull in with the truck first instead of backing up. Much easier. But how to turn the truck around so I could pull in?
As I was working out my path in my head a young man walked up to me.
He was in his early 20's, about my height with sandy-blond hair. In the darkness he asked:
“How are you? Can I help you?”
“Hi!” I said to him. “No thanks, I'm just needing to turn the truck around and I'm exhausted. But I know what I need to do. Thanks for the offer of help.”
He asked me where I was coming from, and where I was heading. He was on a road trip adventure, having driven from his home state of Alaska. He was coming from Sedona; I told him I was heading to Sedona.
“Oh, are you a spiritual teacher?” he asked.
“Well, I'm an author and I work mostly with women,” I shared, not wanting to have a long conversation out here in the dark in the middle of a campground in New Mexico.
I felt him leaning in, and I felt myself leaning back.
“Thanks for your help! I'm going to pull the truck around now. Goodnight!”
I held out my hand to shake his, to say goodnight to this stranger with that familiar gesture of greeting and goodbye.
“I'm HeatherAsh,” blessing on your journey I said.
“I'm Sam,” he said (name changed to protect the innocent, and also because I honestly do not remember his name...)
When he took my hand in his instead of shaking, he softly ran his fingers across my middle and index fingers, stroking slowly.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Shit. I thought.
I gently pulled my hand back, doing my best not to cringe outwardly. There was a lot of inward cringing happening.
Was this young man, who could easily have been my son, hitting on me? Really???
“Do you want me to drive your truck? He asked. “I can help!”
My brain voice said: would a man ever ask another male stranger if he could drive his truck? Probably fucking not.
“No thank, I've got it. Goodnight,” I said firmly as I got into my truck.
It took me two more tries, driving around in a big circle, to get Aenea pulled in snuggled up between the electrical pole on the left and the tree on the right. I plugged in my 30-amp cord, decided to not hook up the water since I'd be leaving early in the morning, and after unlocking the door and assessing the slope of my home's floor and my exhaustion level, left the trailer's hitch connected to the ball of the truck, but just lifted it up a bit with the electrical motor.
The darkness around me was soothing my heart. I knew I wouldn't have time in the morning to explore the wall of red rock, edges softened by wind and rain, which felt like a guardian behind me. I whispered a prayer to the spirits of this place, this Navajo land.
Thank you for this sacred space. Thank you for these rocks. Thank you for this sanctuary.
9:30 pm
It was hot in Aenea. I opened all the window and the two sunroofs, putting on one of the fans to help move the stale, heated air out. With the lights out I removed my clothes and laid them on the bench near my bed. I was about to crawl naked into bed when I paused.
An inner voice said: Put on something for bed tonight.
I sighed, sensing I might not be sleeping through the night. I put on my red silk dragon robe, which a friend gifted me a couple of years ago. Then I slipped into bed, imagined Demi laying against my legs, and fell into a deep sleep.
10:30 pm
knock knock knock
knock knock knock
Hello?
I woke up with one thought in my head.
Really?!?!
Did he really have the nerve to knock on the door of a lone woman's trailer in the middle of the night after the lights had been out for an hour?
I laid quietly, willing him to leave. Perhaps if I didn't respond he would get the hint.
knock knock knock
knock knock knock
Hello?
Sigh. Okay, surely he will go away if I don't answer this second knock.
I waited, breathing quietly in the darkness.
knock knock knock
knock knock knock
Hello?
Oh, hell. I got up and peered through the screen door.
“Yes,” I said frostily.
“Hi I'm sorry to bother you but I knew if I didn't say something now I would regret it later,” He said in a rush. I kept the screen door closed and waited.
“I find you really attractive and sexy and I was just wondering if you would be interested in continuing our earlier conversation now?”
“No,” I said quietly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I'm completely sure. I am going back to bed now. Perhaps we can talk in the morning.”
“Oh I'm sorry did I wake you up?”
“You did,” I said. “Goodnight.”
He tried to say something again and I turned away. I heard him walk off, and I crawled back into bed, now annoyed. Did he really wait an hour after the lights had been turned off to knock on my door? Doesn't he know that is completely inappropriate?
Then I wondered: should I be afraid?
I scanned the area, and felt his energy. No. I was safe. And if something did go down I felt completely confident I could defend myself. There were also several RVs nearby.
So I curled up and fell asleep.
7:30 am Friday, September 6th
The next morning I talked to a friend via video call about the experience. After being hit on completely out of the blue and then approached in the middle of the night — I felt like I now needed to school him, so he doesn't do the same thing to another woman who might be completely freaked out to have a stranger knocking on her door in the middle the night.
But as I unhooked the electricity, lowered the hitch onto the ball, and secured everything in Aenea for travel, that earnest young man did now show his face.
I sent a blessing his way and headed towards Sedona.
After thousands of miles, hundreds of campground, gas station parking lots, and wilds camping -- this is the first time I've been hit on. I generally have found that people are immensely respectful of a woman traveling alone.
A male friend shared with me later: “I wish I had his courage when I was his age!:
“I would not call that courage,” I said. “I would call that not reading the room.”
Or the campground.
What do you think?
Update on the land building projects: the A-frame is almost complete! I just went to Home Depot and bought the top metal ridge for the roofing, and to Restore for a used door (solid wood with small windows, 32 by 77 inches, $20.) Franklin will install the door this weekend and then we will work on the big wing doors on the north side of the open end. Then it is finished and we can start decorating and making it beautiful inside!
Thank you to everyone who joined us for the work party... Franklin, Sarina, Mary, Val, Laura, Elaine, Craig, Raina… what a joyous time creating, cleaning, and celebrating together.
And gratitude to everyone who sent me birthday presents and especially the puzzle pieces; Lara that was brilliant!
My 13-week online Unconditional Leadership course closes on Tuesday; on Monday I'll be doing a final Q & A session, open to everyone.
Join the free zoom Monday, October 21st at 1 pm
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82422742467
Thursday I head to the Writer's Rising conference in Los Angeles; I'll be teaching on two sessions on Saturday, and am so excited to meet Annie Lamott, Cheryl Strayed, Jen Pastiloff, and so many other authors I deeply respect. Huzzah!
“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”
― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird
Reading about your encounter in New Mexico, I appreciate the way you laid out the facts. It seems like you’re searching for some kind of truth or understanding about what happened. But the reality is, we’ll never fully know the truth about this stranger. There are always going to be mysteries surrounding other people, especially in brief encounters.
Speaking as someone who’s made plenty of mistakes in the past, I can empathize with the situation and offer my own interpretation of his actions. The most important takeaway here is that you followed your intuition. In situations like this, it’s crucial to listen to that inner voice. At one extreme, this might have been an innocuous encounter. But on the other extreme, it could’ve easily been very dangerous. Your instincts leaned toward danger, and that’s what matters. Trusting your gut - and being aware of what's actually happening - is key.
Now, before we make this guy a stand-in for all men, we should consider that he was a 20-year-old on a road trip from Alaska—a bit on the fringe of what’s typical. I do give him credit for recognizing you as a spiritual teacher, but there are still many red flags. The handshake, for one, was odd. Was he hitting on you? Most likely.
I can’t help but worry about you in situations like this, being on the road alone. I hope you’re taking precautions—locking doors, staying vigilant, and so on. His persistence with knocking was rude, and leading with compliments like "attractive" and "sexy" made his intentions clear. Another important lesson here is self-defense—every man & woman should have a plan, some skills, or tools for protection.
He could’ve been drunk, definitely seemed lonely, and I can admit I’ve made clumsy attempts at seduction under similar circumstances. I hope you took something away from the encounter, though I doubt he did. Honestly, a lot of men are pretty clueless in these situations, but it's important to stay alert for those with more predatory intentions or hidden agendas.
Mmmm this was a flashback for me. And the comments an eye opener. In my 20's when I was freshly divorced, this happened to me all the time. Men pushing for my attention and fishing for that sexual fulfillment. I felt like I must put out some chemical signal that alerted these men to my presence. I was so hot and ready for passion all the time and coming from a background of abusive and toxic masculinity and misogyny, I had no awareness or ability to identify abuse, it was normalized. A guy who came on to me like this? If I found him attractive? He would have spent the night in my camper and some vulnerable, lonely part of me would hope that I finally found the right match. I didn't have a camper, but I did roam around the country in my Dodge Charger - driving Coast to Coast never certain where I should stay or try to plant roots. I was always looking towards the masculine to find that place where I belonged. I wonder what would have happened if you had outwardly cringed and visibly recoiled to his obvious affections. Would he have then turned on you and started torturing you in a way that wouldn't have let you sleep all night? What if you had said, "holy crap this is really repulsive behavior I'm so turned off please leave me alone now?" Might be have become violent and angrily aggressive? I remember in my 20s feeling fearful about rejecting men because it had an adverse effect, sometimes it felt easier and safer to say yes. Which is exactly what this man had hoped you would do. I am so glad that you stood your ground and didn't reward the behavior with a yes. I am so glad I'm not subject to those wild hormones that drew men like that to me at all times. Menopause is such a relief as combined with wisdom and understanding. Thank you for your brilliant and thought provoking share.