I let out a long slow sigh as I lay in my sleeping-bag staring up at the blue nylon ceiling of the tent, and for the second morning in a row I asked myself if I was going to bother getting out of bed. Then for the hundredth time I questioned why I was even here at all.

It was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. It was supposed to be the highlight of my year. Ten days hiking and camping in Gaspésie National Park in Quebec with my two best friends. We picked the second half of September because we figured there'd be fewer people around, and we'd get to see the autumn colours in the trees.

We actually started planning the whole thing back in early March. Six months ago the three of us were so excited, so eager. We'd gone camping together almost every summer since we started high-school, we kept it up all through college, and we were determined to maintain the tradition after graduation and throughout our careers.

All three of us booked two weeks off from our jobs. Or at least, I did. Thinking back to last week, I couldn't help wondering if either Derek or Curtis ever really planned on coming, or they were just playing along to mess with me.

I sighed again as that cold heavy feeling settled once more in my gut. Neither of them said it, but I was sure I knew what happened, when things changed.

Back at the start of July the three of us got together to celebrate Canada Day, and that's when I came out to them. That's when they found out the friend they thought was 'one of the guys' was actually a trans girl. I asked them to stop using my deadname, asked them to start calling me Victoria. Or Tori for short.

Thinking back, I could still picture the looks on their faces.

First they thought I was kidding. Then I told them I'd been on hormones since the start of the year, and I knew both of them could see the differences once they knew to look. The smiles turned to shock and confusion, then concern.

Neither of them freaked out, but looking back I knew that was the moment things changed. I was no longer 'one of the guys'. I was something different, something other.

It all seemed so clear in retrospect. On the one hand they were good about not using my deadname, they didn't misgender me. Or at least, not when I was around. But I could count on one hand the number of times they used my new name. They didn't outright reject me, and I mistook that lack of rejection for acceptance.

I knew part of it was because I'd been so lucky with everyone else. When I told my parents they both accepted me right from the start. They made sure to use my new name, mom even offered to take down old pictures if they bothered me.

Work was really good too, when my legal name-change went through I talked to my manager and my boss. They updated my information in the computer, and within two days there was a new name placard outside my cubical. Nobody else made a fuss, everyone started calling me Tori and it was almost a non-issue.

It was just Derek and Curtis, the two guys I thought were my best friends, who apparently had a problem with it. And they didn't even have the guts or courtesy to say anything, they just played me along until last Saturday.

With that memory the cold feeling in my gut grew even heavier.

We met up at our favourite bar and I thought we were going to discuss the final arrangements of our big camping trip. It was a two-day drive from Toronto to the park, and I started to talk about where and when we'd all meet the following Friday. That's when Derek said he couldn't make it. And Curtis added a casual 'yeah me too'. Then they went back to watching the Jays game on one of the TVs, while I sat there stunned.

Six days before the trip of a lifetime, and they both dropped out like it was no big deal. When I asked what happened, why they couldn't make it neither of them wanted to discuss it. They were focused on the ballgame, they weren't interested in talking to me.

Meanwhile I'd already booked the time off work. I'd told my parents and coworkers all about this amazing camping trip me and the guys were going on. And I'd also paid all the permits and booking fees online for the three of us, and that was non-refundable.

So I came by myself.

I left on Friday as planned. And after two days alone in the car and two nights alone in motels I finally arrived. Sunday afternoon I parked in the lot at the eastern end of Lac Thibault, loaded up all my gear and set out on foot following our original plan.

That first leg of the hike was only about two and a half kilometres from the parking lot to our first planned stop at a camp site at the southern tip of Lac Côté. I set up the tent and cooked a little dinner, and I'd basically been here ever since.

You weren't supposed to do that, these camp sites weren't meant to be destinations. This was part of the Appalachian trail, and even in the off-season there'd be long-distance hikers coming through.

I'd lost my enthusiasm though. For all the times I'd gone camping and hiking, this was my first solo trip. And the absolute loneliness and isolation was something I hadn't counted on.

There were also some practical considerations. Being on my own meant I was carrying a lot more gear than I would have if I had friends with me. Like the three-man tent, the camp stove and fuel, and the cooking pot. Normally that stuff would have been spread out across three people.

Finally I'd realized there were some safety concerns as well. Like being in the wilderness alone well out of reach of any cell service was a bad place to get injured from a fall or something. Not to mention the concern of being a trans woman by herself in the middle of nowhere. Especially being where I was in my transition.

I was far enough along that I couldn't really pull off boy-mode anymore, and even I could I wouldn't have done it. Not after I'd been fully out for over two months. But I wasn't far enough along to have passing-privilege. Especially not camping, where I didn't have the luxury of make-up and my full femme wardrobe.

So rather than pack up and continue on my hike yesterday I ended up stuck in place. I was reluctant to move ahead, but I didn't want to give up and leave. I decided to stay put for a day, and told myself I'd make the choice Monday morning.

Now it was Monday and as I lay in my sleeping bag staring at the tent ceiling, I found I still couldn't decide. So I put it off again.

There was the possibility of getting in trouble if other hikers complained to park authorities that I was keeping the site for days on end, but it wasn't the end of the world. There were other sites along the trail people could use. And at worst if park staff showed up and hassled me I'd just pack up and head home.

Eventually I dragged myself out of the sleeping bag and pulled on some pants and a fresh shirt, followed by clean socks and my hiking boots. I grabbed my hoodie then unzipped the door of the tent and crawled out then stood up and stretched.

It was probably only about seven in the morning, but it was already shaping up to be another beautiful autumn day.

There were scattered clouds overhead, the air was cool but clear, and I could see a little mist rising from Lac Côté in the morning sun. I slowly turned around to take in the full view, then froze in place.

About ten metres to my right was a little red fox. I first spotted her last night, she seemed curious about my campsite. I'd been tempted to set out some food for her, but I knew that was a mistake.

"Good morning," I said to her in a quiet friendly tone.

Not friendly enough though, the fox bolted off into the woods in the direction of Lac Thibault.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, then set up the camp stove. I set a pot of water on the burner and dumped a scoop of instant coffee in my mug, along with a scoop of sugar, then waited for the water to boil.

And that more or less set the tone for my second full day in the park.

I drank coffee, but I couldn't find the energy to cook a proper meal. I wasn't that hungry anyways, and when my stomach grumbled slightly around mid-day I silenced it with a granola bar and some more coffee.

About the only productive thing I did was take some pictures. I'd brought my camera with me and between Lac Côté to the north and Mont Jacques-Ferron to the west, not to mention all the spectacular autumn colours on the trees, there was loads of beautiful scenery to photograph.

I even spotted my little fox friend again, and I managed to get a couple pictures of her as well.

My solitude was finally broken in the afternoon, when a trio of hikers came by. They were heading east along the trail, three middle-aged men walking side by side.

I heard their voices before I spotted them, and for a moment I tensed up with stress before I relaxed again. Two of them bid me a quiet hello while the third waved, and I returned the simple greeting. There was nothing threatening about them, they were just here to enjoy the trail same as me.

They kept talking to each other as they marched past, weighed down with the heavy packs on their backs.

Unfortunately seeing those guys set off my loneliness and depression all over again. They were obviously friends out on a trek through the park together, and they served as a stark reminder of how I'd been abandoned and ended up coming out here all on my own.

I let out a long deep sigh, then despite being mid afternoon I climbed back into my tent. I pulled off my boots and lay down in my sleeping bag and once again stared up at the blue nylon ceiling and sank into my self-pity.

Tomorrow, I thought to myself. I'd make a decision tomorrow. Either start hiking like I planned all along, or give up and go back to the car and drive home. I couldn't take another day of this, and anyways I knew it wasn't healthy for me. Wallowing in depression and self-pity was hurting me more than the fresh air and nature helped.

I must have dozed off into a light nap when something jolted me awake, literally. My eyes snapped open and I stared up at the blue nylon above my head as I found myself wondering what just happened. That couldn't have been an earthquake, could it? I didn't think they had earthquakes around here.

There weren't any unusual noises outside the tent, I couldn't hear anything strange or worrying happening. Just the usual sounds I'd grown accustomed to over the past two days.

After waiting another minute or so, I pulled myself upright in my sleeping bag then unzipped the window flap to my left and peaked outside. I was looking north across Lac Côté, and everything seemed peaceful. Long shadows stretched across the western edge of the lake. It was almost dusk, there was probably just an hour to go before sunset.

Nothing seemed off though, and I decided it must have been a dream that woke me.

I just started to zip up the window flap when I saw the trees on the far side of the lake suddenly bend. It was like a massive gust of powerful wind from the north pushing trees over, and it was racing south towards me. I barely had a chance to brace, but when it hit it wasn't wind at all.

I felt the ground beneath my tent drop suddenly, then violently and painfully jolt back upwards. If not for my air mattress I was sure I'd have broken bones. As it was I fell back groaning from the pain in my hips and lower back.

Where everything had been silent and peaceful a moment ago, now it was pandemonium outside the tent. The ground was shaking and lurching while all around me I could hear the sounds of trees falling and branches splintering. Then all that was drowned out by a deep rumbling sound so loud it rattled my chest and almost made it hard to breathe.

I ended up on my side in my sleeping bag, atop my air mattress, curled up with my hands over my ears and my eyes squeezed shut. All I could do was hope I didn't get crushed by any of the surrounding trees as they started to come down around my tent.

There was another massive lurch from the ground beneath me, and the tent poles finally buckled and snapped under the strain. Blue nylon engulfed me and my sleeping bag, while the terrible noises outside got even louder.

The ground gave one final sickening lurch and my tent suddenly lit up brighter than the mid-day sun. At the same time I felt pain lance through my entire body. The last thought to cross my mind before I blacked out was that maybe I'd just been struck by lightening.

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