I was driving my old VW Bug out a goat-path dirt road, wrapping-up my stay on Sunday afternoon. The sun was getting low & I see a well-equipped hiker ahead on the same path. I stop & offer a ride out. He says sure, throws his gear behind the seat & plops into the passenger side. We do the intro thing as I pay attention to some tight curves at ~20 mph. Less than 2 minutes pass when I glance over to see a large knife pointed near my right eye, "I want all your sh#t & I'll kill you for it".
Don't want to sound cliche' but...what a SURPRISE! Everything went into slow motion (again cliche') but I realized he wasn't buckled-up. Neither was I, this was a '68 Beetle!. But I knew what was coming & had the steering wheel to brace against. For those who don't know, the '68 VW Bug had a completely vertical, unpadded, solid stamped-steel dashboard.
I slammed that brake petal for all that little 4-wheel hydraulic, drum brake system was worth, holding myself stoutly off the steering wheel. He flew forward and face-planted HARD just above the glove box. Bouncing back I (happily) watch his face spewing crimson as knife clattered somewhere in floorboard. There's a little elastic-topped vinyl map pocket on the low/front of my door (maybe VW's Deluxe interior?). That's where I kept a Ruger .22 autoloader (Standard Model, 4.?" barrel, fixed sights) when I traveled. This guy, groaning, gathered himself just in time (leaking blood through both hands holding his nose) to turn toward me and see that pistol aimed at him from my left hand. I wanted distance so I popped my door open and went around & opened his. Now I'm miles (and MILES) away from another human being, much less a phone, I'm 19 years old & have a felon at gunpoint. I didn't want to ride out with him. I have NOT been here before.
I'm not proud of this last part & am thankful the statute of limitations has long-since expired. I told him to take his boots off. He complied & I pitched them in the car. Then his jacket. Then his shirt. Then his belt & jeans. I just kept going...until he had nothing on but socks & underwear. I left that 20 something-year-old almost naked, bloody nosed, on a backwoods goat-path, in a very deep edge of the DBNF, and waved smiling as I drove away. I got; $24 from his wallet, a slightly-used North Face VE-24 tent, a nice Schrade fixed-blade knife (turned-out smaller than I first thought), a Case XX Stockman folder, a Zippo, a Lowe backpack, a cool Swiss Camp Stove, and one of the biggest lessons of my then young life. With the hindsight of 35 years, I hope he made it. I tossed his clothes in the trash (they were bloody) at a restaurant called "EAT" in Slade, Ky. And THAT'S why being armed in the woods is a good idea.