Back in August of 1998, I was just entering college at the University of Illinois.  Having fenced all throughout high school, I decided to go to a Fencing Illini practice to see whether I wanted to keep fencing in college.

So I get to the Armory, where the club meets, at about 6:30 PM--the time that the website said practice usually starts.  Well, the page didn't mention that no one ever shows up before 7:00, so I had thirty minutes with nothing to do.

I put my fencing knickers and shoes on, stretched out for a while, and decided to run a few laps around the track for a while to warm myself up while I waited for people to show up.

After a lap or two, I start hearing an odd clinking behind me--the sound of two pieces of metal grating against each other.  Half a lap later, it still hasn't gone away.  So I turn around, and see a guy in full battle gear and armor waving a mace around about ten feet behind me.  When he sees I've finally noticed him, he starts screaming, "ARRRRRR!  I'LL CUT YA NOW, YE PANSY MODERN FENCER!!!" before speeding up and chasing me around the track.  I bolted, managing to lose him in a back corridor somewhere.

That was my first and only experience with the Society for Creative Anachronism.