June 27 Day 49 — Lost in the Kentucky Hills
Due to the drama in this report, Mad-Lib Tuesday has ceded space to Story Time.
The parking lot at the Scott’s Gap Trailhead, not far south of Louisville, Kentucky, was nearly empty. That should have been my first sign.
AllTrails reviews indicated it was popular. On a sunny summer afternoon, I should not have been only the second car in the lot. Oblivious to the obvious, I headed into the forested hills.
A mile into the hike, I negotiated over a jumble of branches and limbs strewn across the trail. I assumed they’d fallen recently and trail maintenance crews had not yet gotten around to clearing the trail. I was wrong. A tenth of a mile past the logs, a sign declaring the trail closed stood in the middle of my path. I let out a few expletives and wondered aloud, “Why didn’t someone stake the sign at the junction of the trails rather than let hikers go down the trail and then have to retrace their steps?” Time to wing it and figure out how to complete the loop to get back to my car.
I walked back to a trail marker for a shortcut I remembered passing five or ten minutes before. Even though the trail didn’t appear on the AllTrails app, I trusted all would be well. There was a sign for it, right?
That should have been my second sign.
Not long down the shortcut trail, I met Allie and her dogs. She was coming from the opposite direction and equally confused about how to return to the parking area. This should have been my third sign.
More aware people might have turned around, abandoned the hike, and looked for an alternative trail around Louisville. Blame it on the infernal bugs swarming my eyes, ears, neck, and nose, my grasp of the situation was sorely lacking.
Soon after Allie and I wished each other good luck and went in opposite directions, I encountered a fallen tree. Then another. And another. Within five minutes, I’d lost count of the toppled trees. One required full body contact to climb over. You may be thinking, this should have been my fourth sign. As I said, blame it on the INFERNAL bugs.
I persisted. Then I came upon a GIGANTIC tree with all its leafy branches still intact. It fully blocked the trail. If I were someone who cried when frustrated, I would have been standing in my own river of tears. Those who know me well, know I’m the swearing type. That day, the Kentucky hills echoed with profane language. Trusting that I wouldn’t step into a snake hole or something worse hidden beneath the brown leaves and other forest ground cover, I ventured off trail and, within five minutes, wound my way around the tree until I found the continuation of the trail on the far side of the tree.
Luckily, that was my fifth and final sign. Not long after THE TREE, I reconnected with a trail to the parking lot. I rejoiced upon seeing my car. Noticing it was the only one there, I assumed Allie and her dogs had made it back safely. I hope that wasn’t another inaccurate assumption and that they are not still running lost in the Jefferson Memorial Forest.
After the stress of Scott’s Gap, I needed calm. Walking the Big 4 Bridge that transverses the Ohio River from Louisville, KY, to Jeffersonville, IN, was the perfect antidote.
Cooling breezes wrapped around me while slow-moving river barges floated below. As my sweat-soaked hair began to dry in the warm wind, I vowed to become a better sign reader.
