Lost in the Woods

Two to four inches of snow and ice had fallen the night before, coating the mountain with white and obliterating the distinction between trail and woods. I arrived at Keyes Gap, WV at about 2:30am, backpack full of body and hand warmers(just in case), as well as my usual mountain trail running paraphernalia. As I started on the trail, headlamp illuminating the way, I noticed a single set of footprints headed in the same direction. Despite the flickering thought that the tracks could be those of an axe murderer, I was relieved to have something to follow that would keep me on the trail. The night was clear and cold. Bright stars flickered above the trees, and the lights of the valley could be seen whenever the ridge narrowed. The trail climbs up for a 1000 feet or so, then runs along the ridge for several miles before hitting the section called the roller coaster - a series of climbs and descents to weary the best of hikers/trail runners. The first few hours were uneventful; the night was quiet with only the soft crunching of my trail shoes to break the silence. As I got into the higher elevations, the ice became harder and the axe murderer's tracks began to fade. Now, I had to look down to watch my footing, and look up to keep an eye on the white trail blazes. I was cruising down a steep descent when suddenly those white blazes disappeared. There was no distinct trail anywhere. I ventured forward and around the bend shining my light into the surrounding trees for the trail markings. Not seeing any, I turned around to retrace my steps back to the last marker I saw. Everything looked the same, and I had left no footprints in the encrusted snow. I wandered up, to the left, back to the right, down the hill - nothing. A little surge of panic welled up. "I'm lost!" I took a deep breath and thought it through. I was heading south and was more on the east side of the ridge. If I headed back up the ridge - west and north - I should cross the trail eventually. If I start going down the other side I missed it. While I was contemplating this action, nature called, and I found a tree to squat against to have my "mystic moment." I turned my headlamp off for privacy. As I sat there contemplating life, I saw a light through the trees. "I wonder what that is?" Another hiker? It wasn't moving. A house? Then I heard a voice from within, deep and low "Go toward the light." Okay, I thought as I finished my business. Getting my bearings I headed toward the light and low and behold within minutes saw the familiar white blaze of the trail. I sighed with relief and hugged the tree just for good measure. Heading down the mountain, I next came to a power line road. Several limbs and trees had fallen and the power company had cut them up and pushed them to the side of the road. The problem was, they blocked and obscured the trailhead. I ran up the road until I passed the federal park boundary signs. I ran back down the road, looked from where I came out of the woods to the road and saw nothing. Eventually, I crashed through the woods and was able to pick the trail back up pretty easily. Now I was climbing again. As I crested the top of the ridge and arrived at one of the few overlooks on this section of trail, the first rays of morning were creeping over ridge. I stopped to let the sun bid me "Good morning" and then headed down again. At the bottom of this ridge, I also made a wrong turn on one of the many switchbacks, but knowing I had to cross the creek at a certain point, I just followed it back to the trail. Now I could turn off the headlamp. Up the next ridge and back down again. A couple of early morning hikers greeted me. I reached Route 7, crossed it and began the next section of the Appalachian Trail. By now, I was in rhythm with the woods. Up and down I went. The sun's rays sparkled against the ice-enclosed branches and trees creating a winter fairyland. I crossed a raging stream, getting my feet wet, and surged up another steep ridge. I was getting close to home. At the next road crossing, I realized that my time was up so I ran that last three miles on the roads, reaching my driveway in the warmth of the noonday sun. I never did discover what that light was on the mountain, but I learned this: When you're lost and need direction, go towards the light and you'll always find your way home.