Lost in the Woods

Our hike began innocently enough.  I used the stile to hop the fence with Penelope on my back.  We passed some cows, and made our way into the forest.

I recorded a light-hearted video smiling at our luck for a sun-shining day.  No one was around.  I better not get lost, I joked into the camera.

The next thing I knew, my surroundings no longer matched the description given in my guidebook.  I follow the guidebook instructions to the letter, but something wasn't adding up.  There were too many options all at once, and none seemed to be the main trail I was supposed to stay on until the second set of orange markers.  But then there were peach markers, or were they salmon coloured - hard to say.  Could those be orange?  I decided to follow them.  The sun dipped behind the clouds.  Penelope sensed something was wrong, and began to cry.  Either she picked up on my tension, or she was cold or hungry or tired, or all of the above.  Her wailing did not help my anxiety.  I realized pretty quickly that I really truly was lost in the middle of a forest, in the middle of nowhere with no one to rely on but myself. 

I had driven outside of Georgetown, through the even smaller town of Acton and stopped half-way before reaching the next even smaller town of Rockwood.  I parked on the side of the road where the guidebook said I should, and a woman pulling out of her driveway came over to make sure I was alright.  People didn't stop here.  I had arrived at a non-destination.

As I looked around at unfamiliar surroundings, I doubled back 20 feet to where there was a choice of three paths.  I was confident as to my correct bearings up until that point.  My next move was a guessing game.  I decided to go with the 'pinky orange' markings on my left, and picked up the pace. I was eager to find the next piece of the puzzle.  I was looking for a Seuss-like boardwalk.

There were specific instructions that read, "If you come to the Porcupine house, then you've gone the wrong way."   What the heck is a Porcupine house?  I'd know it when I arrived - if I arrived at all, I wasn't so sure.  After five minutes of walking or so, the terrain changed to a wider path that fit more along the description in my book, but the order was all wrong.  Then I saw it.  No mistaking, I was at the Porcupine house.  Part of me thought, Thank God, I'm not so lost I'm out of the book, and the other part of me realized, okay, so I've gone the wrong way - now what?"

I re-read my book.  There were two orange trails, and I had found their markers right by the Porcupine hut.  They were pumpkin orange, not salmon coloured.  I was supposed to take the second one, which was what I had done and it had lead me to the Porcupine house.  I put it together, and realized I'd likely chosen a side trail before, which had brought me to the orange path around the other side, and so I gave the first orange trail a shot.  A few minutes later, on wobbly legs, I crossed the slick Seussian path before swinging left onto a trail that was supposed to take us all the way back to our car.  The final path was a long tunnel, and at the end of it, there was a circle of light created by the foliage.  As I walked closer, wondering if that would be my exit, the field of view widened until I could see the gleaming metal of our van:  the most beautiful sight after you've been lost in the woods.  We made it back to the car.  We were okay.  I wasn't lost anymore.

There are two things worth pointing out:  One, in retrospect, it doesn't seem like I was that lost, but please know there are an infinite number of trails that connect and take off in any direction.  Some go on for days.  In that moment of guessing the right way, I could have gotten it very, very wrong, and in fact, I did get it wrong, but I was extremely lucky the path lead me back the correct way.  There are so many trails and side trails, it's very easy to get terribly lost without a good map and directions. 

Two, I could have simply retraced my steps.  That's always my backup plan.  It would have taken over an hour, but it would have got us back safely. Though I cursed myself for my carelessness, for not paying closer attention to this rugged loop.  I'd been fairly lackadaisical, and the fallen leaves were making it more difficult to see the paths.  What if I got lost retracing my steps?  Then what would I do?  I'd be more lost than ever.  I had to push on.

So I did what we do in life when we come to a crossroad.  I took a look at my options, inhaled deeply, trusted my gut, and embraced the risk.  I put one foot in front of the other, with my baby on my back, and found my way home.