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Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill

Down in the Dirt
by Timm Muth
A monthly article by the author of Mountain Biking in North Carolina. Rants, raves, reviews and chain grease.

 

Getting Lost, Getting Found
July 2003

Whenever I take a group out into the Big Woods, the first question is always, "Is there any chance we'll get lost?" Well, actually, before we even get out of the car, the first question generally is, "Are there really bears around here?" But as soon as we hit the trail, and the trees close in, out comes the concern about getting lost.

Yes, Virginia, there is always a chance you'll get lost. But look, I've gotten lost a number of times, and I obviously made it back out without too much psychological damage, so quit your worrying and start enjoying the ride. But if you're at least moderately prepared, bother to take a look at a map before you head out, and don't flip out as soon as things look unfamiliar, you really don't have too much to worry about.

The first rule is: Know the general layout of the trail before you go. Unless you're in the Big Woods, most trails will be bounded by a road on one or more sides, or it'll circle a lake, or end at a housing development. Pay attention to the map (assuming you have one), and figure out what boundaries you have. I've met people lost in Regency Park, close to panic as the sun was setting, worried they couldn't get out. Ok, maybe you weren't a boyscout, but damn son, you've got a lake on one side, a highway on the other, and a development at the end. If nothing else, head straight till you hit one of them, then figure out the way home from there.

One time, Jeff and I got lost in Pisgah National Forest. Hadn't a clue where we screwed up, and being manly men, we were way too stubborn to admit our error and turn back. But we did know that the Blue Ridge Parkway was somewhere between us and the top of the mountain, and the trail we wanted paralleled the Blue Ridge Parkway. So we started pushing - uphill -for several hours. It was a lesson in pride and foolishness, but we finally found the trail we wanted.
Got any bread crumbs?
Even if you're totally map-challenged, remember this small salient point: the sun sets in the west - always. So if you were heading into the setting sun on the way in, there's a fair chance you'll want to head away from the sun on your way out.
But if all your preparations come to naught, and you find yourself looking at all the trees in despair, ready to start wailing for your momma, here's a couple of hints that may help.


DON'T PANIC! And don't start worrying about bears and cougars and amorous hill-folks and such. Your greatest danger - and it happens more often than you'd think - is freaking out, tossing all your gear aside, then wandering in a circle till you're exhausted and dying of hypothermia. So be calm, hang onto your camelback, and consider it an adventure.

DON'T CUT CROSS COUNTRY. Unless you are absolutely positive where you are going (in which case, you're not really lost in the first place), abandoning the trail and cutting cross-country will generally get you lost even more. In the Big Woods, all those little valleys and dells can conspire to lead you wandering back and forth for a long time. If you're on a trail, can you backtrack to a known point? If it's a straight shot back without any turns that could get you further lost, backtrack. Keep looking over your shoulder as you go, until the trail looks familiar again. Remember, it all looks different when you're heading the other direction. If you end up back at an intersection, and can't remember which way you came from, look for tire marks, disturbed leaves, or anything else that would tell Daniel Boone that you passed here recently. But if you simply can't figure out which way is home, then stay put. Lost and sitting on a trail, where someone else may soon come along and find you, is way better than sitting on a tree stump in the middle of nowhere, where no one is likely to come strolling along and offer some directions.
Oh, and to avoid some real heartbreak, don't fall for it when your friend says, "Hey look, there's a clearing at the top of the ridge right up there. Come on!" Because most likely: (a) it's not the top of the ridge, only a wrinkle in the mountain, which means when you get to the top, there'll just be another ridge above it; and (b) it always looks more open up above you, cause you're not looking down into the tree canopy, and when you get to the top and find you're still lost, when you turn around you won't be able to figure out where you just came from, and then you'll be even more lost. If nothing else, let your friend hike up to the top (but not out of view), and check it out; then at least they can find their way back down to you if it's not the way home.

But OK, say you're totally lost, and are afraid to wait until rescued (or expect that none is coming). Then remember this hard and fast rule - water runs downhill (always), and water leads to civilization (eventually). That creek you just crossed may not go the direction you think, and it may bring you out miles from your car. But if you follow it long enough, it will bring you to a road or a BBQ joint or some other form of civilization.

Now if it looks like you're just not going to make it out of the woods before dark, then it's a REALLY good idea to stop and make a camp before it's totally black. If you wait until you're stumbling around in the dark, it's gonna be a whole lot tougher to wait out the night. If you know how to build a lean-to, then do it. Light a fire if you can. You've got matches, right? (If not, curse yourself twice, and remember to stash some in your pack for next time.) Clear plenty of space, preferably in front of a rock or something that will help to reflect the heat. Keep the fire small for safety reasons (a forest fire won't make things any better). Even if it's not cold, a fire will help to signal rescuers, and will make you feel a whole lot better. Not to mention warm and toasty beats cold and wet any day. Get off any wet clothes you're wearing, and try to dry them if possible. Unless it's wool or polypro, wet clothes are probably worse than no clothes at all.

And if you're totally unprepared, without light or fire, soaking wet and scared half to death, there's a simple solution for shelter. Just scrape together a big pile of the driest leaves you can find. Burrow down into the middle of it and make yourself a little nest to sleep in. It might be a little scratchy, and you might share your bedroom with a mouse, but trust me, it's a lot warmer than shivering against a tree trunk all night. In the morning, you can start figuring out again where you left the car.

But here's the best advice I can offer on getting lost: Don't be ashamed to ask for help and/or directions. Even local trails can get rerouted, and new trails can take all kinds of unanticipated turns. But don't be afraid to ask for help - and then accept it. You wouldn't believe how many folks I've found wandering lost in Bent Creek, who ask desperately for the way out, then argue with me that it can't possibly be in that direction. So admit your ignorance, and ask that passing rider/hiker/hunter just where the heck you are and which way is out. Your pride may suffer, but it's a small price to pay. Most likely, they'll be glad to help you out, if only to clear the woods out a bit.



Old Dirt

 

 

 

"Bicycles are almost as good as guitars for meeting girls."
- Bob Weir