Alaina Urquhart

Yeah, they do.

Yeah.

Could I sleep through that?

Maybe, but let's get to the barbed wire fence number one.

This sucker was nearly brand new.

The wires were tight and my awake and conscious self struggled to slither my fat booty through the wires.

That shit is hard enough to do in the daytime without getting your clothes caught on it, let alone at three in the morning.

I'm assuming that's what time it was because this is some weird shit and there was no cell phones back then.

Hey, Jill's husband was awake.

That's right.

Jill's husband was taking a walk.

So the first barbed wire fence I finally crawled through, but I snagged the back of my shirt on it and tore a little hole in it.

The second barbed wire fence that I came to after walking over several hundred more feet of pine needles and shale rock was less impressive, and in the pale moonlight, I was able to find a spot where the top wire was down, so I crawled over the top of it.

I had to walk for a while before I find my friends.

All three of them were sound asleep in their sleeping bags.

I crawl into my sleeping bag as if nothing ever happened, but my feet were achy and cut up from the walk back.

I had snags in my clothes and scratches on my hands.

By morning, I had convinced myself yet again that it was just a bizarre and isolated incident of sleepwalking.

The older I got, however, the more that never made sense.

There's no way in a million years you could convince me that I walked my ass a mile from where we were sleeping over sharp pine needles through two barbed wire fences and a whole lot of other obstacles without being woken up.