l o s t

Do you know how it feels to be lost? Not metaphorically, really lost.

In the woods?

My younger brother visited mid-September. We took a quick hike above Cushman Pond. I knew just where I was going, until I didn’t.

We zigged when we should have zagged.

I have absolutely no inner-compass and should always remember to do the opposite that my gut tells me. When traveling I rely on Barry who has an incredible sense of direction. I am an excellent map reader and can find the shortest route anywhere. However, my brother and I didn’t have a map, we had me.

Hiking guidebooks advise that you carry emergency supplies even on short 1-2 hour trips. I carried with me a pint of water for our three-mile hike. No energy bar. No bars even on my brother’s iPhone.

Our one-hour hike became four.

We found ourselves in the middle of the Five Kezars. We headed West refusing to turn around. When I guessed we were on the Old Waterford Road after seeing a Kezar Falls sign, I knew we were in trouble. Kezar Falls is in the middle of nowhere.

I had never experienced being lost. Ever. Panic sets in. The Maine woods get very dark at night when there’s only a sliver of a moon and the forest is dense. I began thinking of the black bear, moose, and coyote that were just waiting for it to get dark enough to make their move. Periodically my adrenaline would rise up and tickle my uvula. Swallowing hard, I would push it back down benefiting only in a quickened pace.

It was 5:45 when we hitched a ride seven miles away from Route 5. If it was mid morning I would’ve been up for the adventure, but lowering evening temperatures and still no real grasp on our location were cause for alarm. I realized the depth of our situation while sitting in a beat up old Subaru making small talk to our angelic driver, her two friends, and her baby, who kindly delivered us to the bottom of 5A where we humbly walked up the tar road home.

Our real danger was minimal but a big fat reality check for a casual hiker.