Back away from my comfort zone

I don't do extreme outdoors.

Well. My definition of extreme outdoors and the rest of the world's definition is probably not the same. I like to enjoy God's creation. 

From a safe viewpoint where I won't get bit, stung or eaten.

As Seth and I have progressed in our relationship, my comfort zone has gradually expanded. He got me to go swimming in the ocean. Try new foods. Go on rides at Disney World.

But when he attempted to get me to go on a .5 mile hike through the woods in the Great Smoky Mountains he hit a brick wall. 

I think it had something to do with sending me the link to the website that talked about the National Park. Which included the bit about the bears. And the two types of poisonous snakes.

I don't do snakes. Not even in the zoo.

Approaching the clearly wooded trail my back stiffened. My grip on his arm tightened. My eyes began a constant scan for bears and s-words.

And I got cranky. 

Don't throw rocks at my comfort box. I just may throw them back and hit you where it hurts.

After crabbing and complaining and yelling (ok not yelling, I didn't want to disturb the bears) at Seth we finally reached our destination. The trees fell away. And there was nothing but mountains. Miles and miles of mountains. God's creation, like I had never seen it before.

With a little bit of luck, and throwing more rocks at my box, I'll be camping in a few years. Sleeping under the stars with some of the critters that hopped on the ark so many years ago.  

But only in a place with indoor plumbing. I don't think I'm quite to the point where I'm ready to use God's natural bathroom.