Have you ever been lost in the woods overnight?

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Jim lombard

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..........With the news of those two kids lost and found up in the woods of New Hampshire I was wondering how many of you had spent an unplanned entire night in the woods either as an adult or child.

I had the misfortune to spend a cold night in the forest north of Ossippee NH in late October. I should've known better (being 24.) One of the most frustrating things about being truly lost is those plans you'd made in your mind are suddenly dashed.

One moment you're thinking, OK, in another hour we'll be driving down Rt16, stopping somewhere for a pizza, the next minute you're standing in a beaver bog wondering if you'll ever get out of this swamp.

Neither of us had basic survival gear; matches, flashlight, coats, food, nothing. It's quite a range of feelings that wash over you as you're surrounded by rotting trees and with darkness falling. I thought about how friendly the company of a fire is on a dark night many times on our stumbling journey that night. As we walked out of the woods that next morning, scraped up, hungry and cold I vowed to never enter them again unprepared.

I love the wilderness now, especially with the proper elements in my pack
 
I've been close , but strangley, never while hiking. Both times were while mountain biking. First time, I was alone, in late fall, doing a Blair Witch ride with lights (so-called because the landscape in halogen bike lights looks like the movie), about halfway through a 5 mile trail, when the battery started dying. I had a Petzl for backup, but that was dying too! I just made it out before I would've been forced to "bivy" in my aerobic bike clothing.

Second time was in the daytime, exploring some unfamiliar Jeep trails. I was keeping mental notes of the turns I was making, but I got confused due to exhaustion on the ride out, stopping at one junction and trying to remember the proper turn.
 
Unexpected night out?

I've never had an unexpected night out- Not yet. But I know of several people who have had the experience, and luckily lived to tell the tale.

One is an experienced well respected leader, who in the winter took two inexperienced companions on a day hike that ended as an unexpected night out. The main cause seemed to have been that once it got dark, the leader thought it would be better (read- shorter in time and miles) to try and bushwhack out then to stick to a well broken trail. He is lauded for getting them all out alive and unhurt.

A good friend of mine, a person with next to no hiking experience, once visited Bear Mountain State Park and went for a walk with two companions on a trail. They had no map, pack, water, food, etc. Only what was in their pockets. Soon it became dark. Luckily they had found a leanto and was able to build a fire. In the mornings light they walked back to their car, with only an interesting story to tell.

No harm, no foul? I love stories like these. They are something to learn from.
 
couldn't find the tent...

My story is somewhat similar to Alpine's, in that my climbing partner and I could simply not locate our tent in the dark. We had climbed Skylight to witness the sunset over the peaks and upon returning to the Uphill area (where we had cmped somewhat off of the beaten path) could not locate the tent! Now mind you we had already hiked in with full packs from the Loj, climbed Redfield that afternoon and had just come back from Skylight - exhaustion had set in and the tent was not to be found and man - it was pitch black - even with headlamps everything looked the same. We were getting ready to hunker down when somehow we finally stumbled across our tent - the next morning was the only time I've ever slept past 9:00 AM in a tent...
 
I haven't ever been lost in the woods at night, but I can see how it can easily happen.

On a trip to attempt the Dix range in the Adirondacks, I stopped to scout for a camp site around Dix Pond. It was around noon on a crystal clear day. I dropped my pack on the trail leaving my map, compass and GPS behind. (Big mistake.) I scouted around for a spot off trail, but found nothing suitable. (Typical in the 'daks.) When I went to return to the trail, I quickly found myself turned around and unable to see any trace of the trail. Since it was around noon, I couldn't even use the sun to get a bearing. When I finally did stumble across the trail, I was surprised how hard it was to see the trail until I was right on top of it. Lesson learned: always take your compass and have a general idea of how to get back to the trail.

We finally found a camp site and set up a cooking area around 100 ft. from our tents. Attempting to return to my tent after dark, I found out how hard it is to navigate in the dark, dense woods with just a headlamp. You can't see very far and every bush and tree looks alike. Rain seems to make it even worse. Lesson learned: Mark a waypoint for camp in my GPS and keep it with me after dark.
 
Almost a kinda funny story...

My first winter hike alone I was only 16! It was in the Berkshires MA near Greylock. I hiked with a pack that I could not handle, maybe 60+ lbs. I hiked for hours, low on energy. It got dark very quick and there was no moon that night. I decided to try to continue on toward the lean-to I was headed toward. I eventually got lost because the trail was not marked well and the fresh snow didn't help. I decided to camp where I was standing versus getting any deeper in the wood away from where I thought the trail was.

The next morning around 7am I climbed out of the tent. To my excitment I was on the trail! About 10 feet from an old trail marker. I got a laugh out of it, but that night I was scared, not knowing if I would be able to find the trail again. I figured I must be a 1/2 mile or so off trail.

I had 2 more accidental mishapes in the woods that same winter. My parent vowed to never drop me off anywhere to go hiking again! Instead they sent me to an Outward Bound like Adventure Camp! Thank you Mom & Dad!
 
Almost

One time I was camping with a friend in the Catskills, near Rusk. He goes out to take a whizz and about 1/2 an hour later he still is not back. I hear him walking away from the camp, so I finally call out- "where you going" . Somewhat sheepishly he admitted that even with his headlamp he couldn't locate the tent, and if I hadn't of called out he'd still be walking.

On a similar note- One rainy morning, camped on a mountainside in Vermont- I went to fetch water for my breakfast. Returning back to camp, everything looked the same and for an hour I "lost" my camp. I finally found and to his day I feel like an idiot.

When I was learning to bushwhack (kinda self-taught) in the Catskills I tried to bushwhack off of the Big Indian-Eagle ridge and pick up the old logging road on the east flank. For some reason at the time it seemed like a plan. Only I "got lost" and two hours later ended up in someones backyard. I stood in their doorway, after I knocked on the door, and after the woman finished her phone call she called her husband to help me out. He showed me where I was, gave me some really useful advise and then drove me back to 28.
Anyway, In the Catskills you have to be a real idiot, or very ill, to be lost for longer then an afternoon.

Confession is good for the soul.
 
almost as well...

This thread makes me feel better about an experience last summer...a friend and I were on a short backpacking trip...up the algonquin trail to black mountain, and down black mountain trail where we would camp at the black mountain shelter...well the shelter is no longer there, but a number of established tent sites are near the site, just up from black pond...a ranger came by and informed us we could camp anywhere off the trail that was a suitable spot...so we took a small herd path and found a suitable location...set up camp, had dinner and decided we should head to the pond to watch the moonrise and indulge in our flasks...he with his tequila, and I with my scotch...we hung out down there taking in the fantastic views across the pond and up to black mountain and sandwhich dome...when we decided to call it a night...we just simply could not find the tent...we wandered around for probably 45 minutes...splitting up...regrouping...assessing where we'd been and how we came to our current location...finally in my wandering I was clotheslined by our food bags counter weight line...which thankfully was in direct site of the tent, about 100 feet toward the full moon...needless to say we felt pretty damn foolish (and quite relieved) when we finally found the tent...
 
I used to feel foolish about leaving my spare LED headlamp turned on, hanging from a branch by the tent, when I went off at night to commune with nature. Reading your stories, I'll never think twice about it again!
 
MichaelJ said:
I used to feel foolish about leaving my spare LED headlamp turned on, hanging from a branch by the tent, when I went off at night to commune with nature. Reading your stories, I'll never think twice about it again!

When I was a Scoutmaster, my greatest fear was that in the morning I'd be one scout shy of a troop. My standing rules for nighttime calls-of-nature was 1) Leave a flashlight turned on in camp pointed in the direction in which you are going and don't lose sight of it, and 2) use the buddy rule. The buddy rule was seldom followed, try as I might, but as long as they left a flashlight on, I was satisfied.

But you know, I have somehow compartmentalized this as "for scouting." It never occurred to me to do it myself. But I will now. Thanks.

Frosty
 
Here's a near-miss account of what can happen when you and your pack part company. From the Minnesota DNR magazine Conservation Volunteer:

On Oct. 22, 2001, Jason Rasmussen backpacked into the Boundary Waters along the opposite end of the Pow Wow Trail[.] Rasmussen had maps and a compass and was well-versed in their use. However, this part of the trail was wide and easy to follow, so he didn't think he'd need to consult a map. After a few hours of hiking, Rasmussen took a wrong turn. What he thought was the path petered out into dense brush. After bushwhacking for a few hours, he knew he was lost. He found a comfortable place to camp by a lake, pitched his tent, had dinner, and fell asleep.

In the morning a cold rain kept him inside, where he spent a couple of hours poring over his map, trying to find the long, narrow lake beside which he'd camped. He found it, or thought he did, farther west than his actual location. He reckoned he'd recover the trail if he followed the lake on the map to its southern end and walked a mile beyond it. Because bushwhacking with his pack was so grueling, he decided to first locate the trail, then return for his things.

That was when "I made my biggest mistake of all," Rasmussen said. He left nearly everything behind, even matches. He walked to the end of the lake, struck off into the woods, hiked for about a mile, walked around, and couldn't find the trail. He started back to camp. But when walking around, "I had managed to move over a little to the west, so I walked north right past the lake." The forest was dense, and at one point he was only 100 yards from his bright red-orange tent but didn't see it. He kept walking.

"Then I fell into a bog. I was soaking wet," Rasmussen recalled. "It's getting cold. I have nothing-no hat, gloves, matches, very little food. And that's when I came across this giant fallen tree." That hollow tree, lined with evergreen boughs he cut with a pocketknife, served as Rasmussen's shelter for the next seven days.

Fortunately, before he'd left home he'd told his parents where he was going. He gave his mother a detailed description of where he planned to camp each night and when he would be home. And on this point he was firm: If he didn't come home by a certain day and time, she should call the Lake County sheriff's office. Fortunately, she did.


How was he found? Rasmussen had taken to blowing his whistle whenever a search plane flew overhead. A SAR dog handler heard his whistle. (EDIT: Oops -- I forgot to mention the ten inches of new snow that fell while he was lost and huddled in the log.)
 
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I used to feel foolish about leaving my spare LED headlamp turned on

Sorta like leaving the porch-light on, great information MichaelJ!

VFTT is a great "library" so much wisdom here.


Has anyone ever thought about pulling a "My Side of the Mountain" and getting lost on purpose? Some days a hollowed out tree, clay fireplace and acorn pancakes with blueberry jam sound pretty good.
 
My Side of the Mountain

I must have read this book close to 100 times growing up. (A few more times recently too)

There are many days when I seriously consider ditching the cell phone and high speed internet access and heading off to find my own tree in the mountains.
 
Love these stories.
Let's put it this way. I've gotten turned around in VT State Park campgrounds going to take a shower at night. I know, pretty bad! Some of them have all those loop roads and they all look the same at night.
I have gotten lost on "unmarked, but well travelled trails."
Don't ever believe how "well travelled" they are suppose to be. They might have been when they wrote the guide book but that was some 5 years back.
My dog had a great sense of direction and got me out before I was benighted on two seperate occasions.
I can only hope that my Akita is that smart. She is intrinsically a bit lazy and I'm sure she would want to return to her place of comfort ASAP.
I no longer travel on unblazed trails and I want to learn more about orienteering.
It took a lot of courage (as well as fear) to turn my fate over to the mutt and hope that he was smarter than I. He certainly did prove himself very competent. :D
Maddy
 
These stories have got me thinking about a time I got lost at night in the woods. A friend of mine was training for the 24 hours of Canaan mt bike race and needed some night riding experience. Since this is one of my favorite activities I was ready to go. The person also happened to be a 24 year old very fit young woman who I have ridden with for quite a few years. We left my house and headed to the woods about an hour before nightfall to do a tough loop. About 8:30 we switched on our lights as we climbed a long log road that petered out into nothing. I knew there was a main truck trail we could hit if we kept climbing and beared to the left. Pretty soon we were deep in berry bushes and brush. Then it started to rain and it was real hard to stay oriented because you couldn’t see the sky or the hills or anything except what was right in front of your headlamp. Patti said maybe we should only use one light so we could save the other for later. Well we thrashed around for an hour or so through the brush and I was getting a little worried. At one point I shut off my light to try and get a sense of which direction to go and I was baffled. My primal senses were saying ” this is cool”, but my rational senses were saying “ my wife is going to kill me”. About 10:00 we hit a posted sign that marked a boundary I was familiar with and we were on our way out of there. We finally made it back to my house (late) and I thanked Patti for not getting freaked out about being lost. She said it was like a cool adventure. My wife eventually got over it.
 
Well, there have been a couple of times in Baxter when I thought I might have to spend the night in the woods, But my scariest experience happened not while camping but while hitchhiking in Newfoundland in the ‘70s. I was staying in the tiny village of St. Michaels, on the eastern coast of the island about 30 miles south of the city of St Johns. It was February, and I had taken a bus up to the city to spend the day in town with some old friends. When I returned to the bus station at 4:45 PM I was surprised to learn that the 5:00 bus had already left! The dispatcher told me the driver knew that all the regulars were already on the bus and had decided to get an early start. I was not a regular.

I wasn’t too upset, since it was fairly easy to hitch a ride in Newfoundland, so I walked up to junction of Route 10, stuck out my thumb and was soon riding in a pickup truck headed south. The guy driving the truck was only going to Tors Cove, about two miles north of St. Michaels, but I had walked road between the two villages many times so wasn’t at all concerned. However, as we drove south and darkness fell, a pea soup fog as thick only that that can be produced in the North Atlantic enveloped the coast. My ride pulled over at the turnoff for the small side road into Tors Cove, and I hopped out of the truck and thanked him. As he drove away I turned to continue my walk two miles up the main road to the similar turnoff for St Michaels only to find I had gone totally and completely blind! Actually, I hadn’t, but once the headlights of the truck were gone, the combination of thick fog and a dark moonless night meant I could see NOTHING! I held my hand in front of my face and only after a few minutes of staring, could just barely make out my wiggling fingers. I got down on my hands and knees and after much crawling around finally found the faint yellow strip in the center of the road.

There is not a lot of traffic on Rt 10. And in winter there is even less. Though it was February, eastern Newfoundland does not typically get all that much snow and there was none on the ground to help me distinguish where the gravel road down to St. Michaels left the gravel shoulder of the main road. I kept wandering off the road onto the shoulder trying to find the beginning of the side road. I kept falling into ditches and icy puddles and walking into dense alders. I’d then retreat back to the asphalt, sometimes having a very hard time finding it.

After two or so hours of this I was getting ready to just find a comfortable clump of semi-frozen bog to lay on for the night. Though I wasn’t dressed all that warmly, it wasn’t that cold of a night and though I’d be uncomfortable, I didn’t think I’d die. Just then, miraculously, a car drove by and its headlights gave me just enough illumination to spot the turnoff, about 30 feet from where I was standing. Once I got on the gravel road it was relatively easy to follow by reading the Braille of tire tracks with my feet. After a half mile or so the single street lamp of St Michaels came into view and I was greeted by the cacophony of barking dogs that always announced my arrival home.
 
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The worst I have ever done is gotten turned around for an hour and then come out not where I thought I would.

Here is what I do on overnight trips though. I have a few pieces of reflective rope. It is 4mm cord with a strand of reflective material woven in. I have a piece tied to the corner of my food bag, and I usually hang a piece on a branch near the tent or on my pack which I hang on a tree. That reflective cord really shows up in the dark when you hit it with a light. You would have to see it to believe it.
 
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