While living back in Tennessee quite a few years ago I decided to go for a walk in the woods. It was February but on this day February meant sunny with temps in the 50s during the day and low 40s overnight. It would be a relatively short walk of about 10 miles in a place called Fiery Gizzard. A wonderful series of trails, the constant sounds of the river, bridges and caves and rock gardens and...........just endless beauty and awesomeness.
Arriving at the trail head at 11am I dutifully signed the In/Out log with name, license plate number, time going in, and anticipated time off the trail. Eager to get started I grabbed one of the folded maps of the trail system that were sitting in a Take One folder, gave the map a quick glance and then promptly tossed it into the bottom of my pack. I had done this same hike twice before (once alone, and once with my AR team mates as part of an all-day training) so felt completely confident in what I was about to do.
The route I would be doing would take me about four hours. It could be divided into three distinct sections - the first 1/3 was slow and very technical (filled with root and rock filled trail that followed the river, bridge crossings, hilly and with an enormous half mile long rock garden) - the second 1/3 was wide open, flat, veered away from the river, and was easy to follow and walk - the last 1/3 was slow and very technical (filled with hills, caves, rock gardens, and eventually the same root and rock filled trail that began the hike as I circled back to the the start).
Eagerly I headed down the first wide open and flat section of trail, excited to be in this place. 1/2 mile later I reached the stairs - hundreds of feet of steep rock/root/dirt/stone/timber steps that dropped me down next to the fast flowing and noisy river. For the next mile I picked my way over huge and endless tree roots and rocky sections as I followed the river until finally reaching the bridge I had been looking for.
Crossing over the wooden bridge I turned to the right and immediately began to climb. A seemingly endless and very steep dirt trail that was challenging while also being beautiful because it looked down over the river. At the top of the hill the trail flattened out and I relaxed as I walked, finally able to stop focusing on the trail and finally able to enjoy the feeling of freedom that I always have while in the woods. That lasted only a short while before I reached the rock garden and seemingly endless bouldering. Hopping and skipping my way across endless boulders I finally reached open ground again.
Feeling good about the hike so far, I was having a great day. Feeling strong, healthy and fit on a great and sunny late winter day. The flat and open trail eventually circled around and I picked up a second trail. More wide open and flat trail.
I was in the zone. Beautiful day. Beautiful hike. Beautiful place. Life was good. I was walking on easy and flat trail and not paying attention to anything else but that. Sometime during the hike a couple approached from the opposite direction. We smiled at each other and greeted each other and continued on. I kept walking. About an hour later another couple approached from the opposite direction. We smiled at each other and greeted each other and continued on...............
As the couple passed me I stopped dead in my tracks, momentarily stunned. I turned to look at them and watched them for a few moments as they continued to walk away. For the first time since I head left the trail head I looked at my watch. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. 2:30?? How could it be 2:30?? I was supposed to be off trail by 3pm. Looking around me I was instantly and completely disoriented. Un-Christian-like words flashed through my mind at warp speed. I dropped my pack on the ground and reached into the bottom in search of the map.
Digging the map out I opened it up, suddenly realizing that I had made a horrible mis-step. Where the hell WAS I?? Looking around me I tried to reconcile the terrain with the features on the map. I couldn't do it. OK Karin..........settle down. I took a swig of water from my Camelbak and told myself again............settle down Karin. Think.
I couldn't hear the river. I pulled out my compass and checked direction, trying again to reconcile the map with the real world in front of me. I saw the fork in the trail on the map. I remembered seeing it about 4 miles back. I was supposed to have taken the left fork. Instead I had veered to the right and continued walking east. I was way off course.
Quickly I evaluated my situation. I had brought enough water for a four hour hike - maybe half a bladder. I had brought enough trail snacks to last for a four hour hike - a couple of hundred calories every hour. So I was now low on both. I had a fully charged cell phone with me but after pulling it out for the first time since I went on trail I realized that I had no cell coverage. I had a rain shell in my pack but that was the only extra clothing I had. No first aid kit. No emergency blanket. No water filtration tabs. No headlamp. No extra food. It was 2:45 in the woods in February. It would be dark in just a few hours and I was a long way from the truck. I was also in good shape.
I began to alternate walking and jogging as I headed back the way I had come. I was not by any means in a panic but any thoughts about a leisurely and enjoyable jaunt in the woods were gone, and I was now completely focused on getting out of the woods before dark. If I HAD to spend a night in the woods it wouldn't be the end of the world - I would be cold and hungry, but I would neither starve nor freeze. I continued running and walking, totally committed to getting the heck out of dodge if at all possible.
Ran the flat trails back, picked up the left fork of the trail, ran more flat trails until picking up the tiny off-shoot trail that I knew to look for and that was almost completely obscured by brush. The tiny side trail took me to one more trail and that is when the trail turned into the rocky and technical and tedious trail that I knew it would. Uphill and downhill. Endless rock gardens. Endless caves big and small to traverse around. My travel slowed a good deal throughout this section (as I knew it would) but I continued to move as quickly and efficiently as possible, all the while watching the sun begin to descend. By this time I was still unsure whether or not I would make it out of the woods before dark. I still had plenty of slow-going root and rock filled trail to get through and there was no way to rush it.
By the time I hit the bridge and finally crossed over the river it was almost dark. On the opposite side of the river I was greeted with the huge trees and the huge river-mist-soaked roots/rocks that I had to carefully maneuver over. Going was slow. Very slow. Visibility was almost zero by this time and travel was nothing short of dangerous. As I slowly took one step at a time I began to search for a place to hunker down for the night if I had to. During adventure races I had slept briefly under untold numbers of trees and bushes all over the eastern side of the country. It would be a cold night but it was what it was. One slow step at a time over slick roots and slippery rocks..............
Somehow (I have no idea how) I made it to the rock steps. Hundreds of rock steps that took me hundreds of feet back up to the first trail. I felt my way up each step, all of them different, all of them steep, reaching for solid hand-holds of rock or tree limb as I worked my way up and out. By the time I got to the top I knew that I would not be sleeping in the woods on this night. The trail was flat, wide open, easy to travel, and I walked slowly and in complete darkness. And just like that.............there was my truck. I was back in predictable-world again. And it felt good to be back.
This story comes to mind because I listened to someone at the store just the other day while she shared her story of a walk in the woods that didn't turn out quite as expected. In fact, I've heard a FEW interesting stories recently. Stories by local adventurers who stepped out of "predictable world" and who now have great memories of those adventures (and their ability to prevail). If anyone would like to share with others, please send us your stories. We would love to post them here.
Arriving at the trail head at 11am I dutifully signed the In/Out log with name, license plate number, time going in, and anticipated time off the trail. Eager to get started I grabbed one of the folded maps of the trail system that were sitting in a Take One folder, gave the map a quick glance and then promptly tossed it into the bottom of my pack. I had done this same hike twice before (once alone, and once with my AR team mates as part of an all-day training) so felt completely confident in what I was about to do.
The route I would be doing would take me about four hours. It could be divided into three distinct sections - the first 1/3 was slow and very technical (filled with root and rock filled trail that followed the river, bridge crossings, hilly and with an enormous half mile long rock garden) - the second 1/3 was wide open, flat, veered away from the river, and was easy to follow and walk - the last 1/3 was slow and very technical (filled with hills, caves, rock gardens, and eventually the same root and rock filled trail that began the hike as I circled back to the the start).
Eagerly I headed down the first wide open and flat section of trail, excited to be in this place. 1/2 mile later I reached the stairs - hundreds of feet of steep rock/root/dirt/stone/timber steps that dropped me down next to the fast flowing and noisy river. For the next mile I picked my way over huge and endless tree roots and rocky sections as I followed the river until finally reaching the bridge I had been looking for.
Crossing over the wooden bridge I turned to the right and immediately began to climb. A seemingly endless and very steep dirt trail that was challenging while also being beautiful because it looked down over the river. At the top of the hill the trail flattened out and I relaxed as I walked, finally able to stop focusing on the trail and finally able to enjoy the feeling of freedom that I always have while in the woods. That lasted only a short while before I reached the rock garden and seemingly endless bouldering. Hopping and skipping my way across endless boulders I finally reached open ground again.
Feeling good about the hike so far, I was having a great day. Feeling strong, healthy and fit on a great and sunny late winter day. The flat and open trail eventually circled around and I picked up a second trail. More wide open and flat trail.
I was in the zone. Beautiful day. Beautiful hike. Beautiful place. Life was good. I was walking on easy and flat trail and not paying attention to anything else but that. Sometime during the hike a couple approached from the opposite direction. We smiled at each other and greeted each other and continued on. I kept walking. About an hour later another couple approached from the opposite direction. We smiled at each other and greeted each other and continued on...............
As the couple passed me I stopped dead in my tracks, momentarily stunned. I turned to look at them and watched them for a few moments as they continued to walk away. For the first time since I head left the trail head I looked at my watch. It was 2:30 in the afternoon. 2:30?? How could it be 2:30?? I was supposed to be off trail by 3pm. Looking around me I was instantly and completely disoriented. Un-Christian-like words flashed through my mind at warp speed. I dropped my pack on the ground and reached into the bottom in search of the map.
Digging the map out I opened it up, suddenly realizing that I had made a horrible mis-step. Where the hell WAS I?? Looking around me I tried to reconcile the terrain with the features on the map. I couldn't do it. OK Karin..........settle down. I took a swig of water from my Camelbak and told myself again............settle down Karin. Think.
I couldn't hear the river. I pulled out my compass and checked direction, trying again to reconcile the map with the real world in front of me. I saw the fork in the trail on the map. I remembered seeing it about 4 miles back. I was supposed to have taken the left fork. Instead I had veered to the right and continued walking east. I was way off course.
Quickly I evaluated my situation. I had brought enough water for a four hour hike - maybe half a bladder. I had brought enough trail snacks to last for a four hour hike - a couple of hundred calories every hour. So I was now low on both. I had a fully charged cell phone with me but after pulling it out for the first time since I went on trail I realized that I had no cell coverage. I had a rain shell in my pack but that was the only extra clothing I had. No first aid kit. No emergency blanket. No water filtration tabs. No headlamp. No extra food. It was 2:45 in the woods in February. It would be dark in just a few hours and I was a long way from the truck. I was also in good shape.
I began to alternate walking and jogging as I headed back the way I had come. I was not by any means in a panic but any thoughts about a leisurely and enjoyable jaunt in the woods were gone, and I was now completely focused on getting out of the woods before dark. If I HAD to spend a night in the woods it wouldn't be the end of the world - I would be cold and hungry, but I would neither starve nor freeze. I continued running and walking, totally committed to getting the heck out of dodge if at all possible.
Ran the flat trails back, picked up the left fork of the trail, ran more flat trails until picking up the tiny off-shoot trail that I knew to look for and that was almost completely obscured by brush. The tiny side trail took me to one more trail and that is when the trail turned into the rocky and technical and tedious trail that I knew it would. Uphill and downhill. Endless rock gardens. Endless caves big and small to traverse around. My travel slowed a good deal throughout this section (as I knew it would) but I continued to move as quickly and efficiently as possible, all the while watching the sun begin to descend. By this time I was still unsure whether or not I would make it out of the woods before dark. I still had plenty of slow-going root and rock filled trail to get through and there was no way to rush it.
By the time I hit the bridge and finally crossed over the river it was almost dark. On the opposite side of the river I was greeted with the huge trees and the huge river-mist-soaked roots/rocks that I had to carefully maneuver over. Going was slow. Very slow. Visibility was almost zero by this time and travel was nothing short of dangerous. As I slowly took one step at a time I began to search for a place to hunker down for the night if I had to. During adventure races I had slept briefly under untold numbers of trees and bushes all over the eastern side of the country. It would be a cold night but it was what it was. One slow step at a time over slick roots and slippery rocks..............
Somehow (I have no idea how) I made it to the rock steps. Hundreds of rock steps that took me hundreds of feet back up to the first trail. I felt my way up each step, all of them different, all of them steep, reaching for solid hand-holds of rock or tree limb as I worked my way up and out. By the time I got to the top I knew that I would not be sleeping in the woods on this night. The trail was flat, wide open, easy to travel, and I walked slowly and in complete darkness. And just like that.............there was my truck. I was back in predictable-world again. And it felt good to be back.
This story comes to mind because I listened to someone at the store just the other day while she shared her story of a walk in the woods that didn't turn out quite as expected. In fact, I've heard a FEW interesting stories recently. Stories by local adventurers who stepped out of "predictable world" and who now have great memories of those adventures (and their ability to prevail). If anyone would like to share with others, please send us your stories. We would love to post them here.