A Maze of Twisting Passages
A pleasant stroll in the woods becomes an expedition when the map is misread — luckily they brought enough food
Marissa and I went for an easy forty-minute walk in the woods. The official map we received at the park entrance was more of a sketch. It showed a river and a trail around it, with loops, bends, and optional routes. The trail was level, and we crossed the river on a creaking wooden bridge. The trees were lush and the leaves were dark green; morning fog hung in the air. The trail started going up and down, with numerous junctions and side trails. After the fourth turn, we weren’t sure where we were; after the sixth turn, we were well and truly lost.
At the end of a long climb, we reached a promontory from which we could observe that we were on the wrong side of the river. The calm blue line appearing on the map was a deep gorge; a route the water had cut through the mountain in eons. Belatedly we noticed that the map had no contour lines, so it was impossible to gauge vertical distances.
We spread the map on the ground and placed rocks on the corners, to figure out where we were, and how to get back to the car, which we left at the park entrance.
“The trail turned right and then sharply left. It has to be this S-shaped curve in the Terrace trail,” I opined.
“The trail turned right and then sharply left, we must be close to the Y junction in the Meadows trail,” Marissa replied.
“I am sure it is the Terrace trail,” I said confidently, then added, “Navigation comes naturally to me.”
After half an hour Marissa asked, “Are you sure this is the right way? Because I remember this distance sign. I swear I saw it ten minutes ago.”
“Are we going in a circle? That can’t be, we have been going directly north,” I protested.
“Aha, even though we turned 90 degrees left, and then circled some big redwoods?”
“That was just a shortcut. I see over there another hiker, let’s go ask her!” I said.
“Hello! Do you know the way back to the entrance?” Marissa asked.
“I am sorry, but I have gotten totally lost in these woods. The map said it was a forty-minute walk, but I have been walking for three hours.” She paused, shifting from foot to foot, then looked at us. “Do you think I could join you?”
“Oh, sure. I’m Marissa, and this is my husband Chris. We aren’t exactly sure where we are, and we kind of lost track of time, but we have certainly been here at least two hours.”
“Actually, I know where we are. We just need to take the next three left turns, and we will be back on track,” I said.
Marissa just rolled her eyes.
“I am so glad to find another friendly face, I haven’t seen anybody in a long time. I have crackers and cheese, want to share?”
We took out, from our packs trail mix, water bottles, pastrami, and corn chips. It was good to take the load off.
We climbed a hill, then walked the serpentines down. Another peak, and then a narrow valley. Time became a blur.
Marissa spotted another pair of hikers.
“Hello there! Do you know the way to the entrance?”
The man was sitting on a log, looking worn out. The woman had the exact same map, issued by the park service. She crumpled the map and threw it in the air.
“This is worthless!” she said.
The two of them, plus their two teenage kids joined us. Now we were seven.
“There is that deer again! It is still eating from the same bay tree,” Marissa said. “What now?”
“We will mark arrows on the trail with stones, then, we will know in which direction we are going,” I said. “I read this in People’s magazine; solid advice.”
We crested a hill and then went down a dry stream bed. There was a patch of low trees, followed by a circle of redwoods reaching for the sky. You had to crane your neck to see the canopy. We continued down the path until we reached a river with a waterfall, yellow butterflies skimmed the water's surface. Two gray squirrels chased each other around a huge tree trunk. The sound of flowing water was like music.
“I swear we were here before,” Marissa said. “But there are no arrow markers.”
“Let’s take a break.”
We passed around water and some crackers, then lay into our beef jerky, tuna, and bread. The woods were dense, and the foliage filtered the sun. We could see by the slanted rays that it was early afternoon.
“Hi y’all, do you know where we are?”
It was two families from Texas.
“Ahh … we have no idea. Do you know how to get to the entrance?” Marissa asked.
They were crestfallen.
“Finally we found another human being in this wilderness, and he also doesn’t know the way out. On the map, it looks simple enough. From here we just walk directly east until we reach the parking lot. Except there is this impassable gorge in the middle.”
We offered some of our crackers, and they pulled out some cheese.
“Say, did you see any arrow markers?” Marissa asked.
“Sorry, no. Didn’t see any.”
“Hmm, that’s strange. We marked our path with arrows so we wouldn’t run in circles.”
“We left bread crumbs, did you see them?”
“Speaking of bread crumbs, should we pull out the chicken sandwiches?” I asked Marissa.
“But those were for dinner,” she protested.
“Well, it is getting kind of late, don’t you think?”
We decided to head back to the waterfall, but I couldn’t find it, very unusual for me, so we sat down for a snack.
“You there, hold on!” It was a park ranger. “I have been cleaning up after you all day, strange symbols on the trail, bread crumbs, bear cans.” Then she noticed that we were a big group which made her stop. “Are you an organized group?”
We were already sitting down and there was no sense in getting up, so we offered her some marshmallows. That made her soften up. Finally, we went back home, tired but full.
I swear I knew where we were the whole time.
