The Great Outdoors - by Natalie M. Kreick

After reminiscing about childhood memories, Brian and his brother Ben decided to recreate an overnight hike they went on years ago. I was easily convinced; I like hiking… at least I did. After loading our packs, crammed full of all our overnight supplies like food, water, tents and sleeping bags, we were on our way. There was only one problem. Apparently their recollection of the hike only included laughs and fun and was skimpy on important details like where the trailhead was. After an hour or so they determined where they thought the hike should start. Unfortunately, it was right in the middle of the woods and there was no trail in sight. I do not claim to be very knowledgeable when it comes to the outdoors, but even I knew traipsing off into the middle of the woods on a mountain with only decade old memories was not a good idea. Brian and Ben were hardly the expert outdoorsmen either. After staunchly voicing my opinion that this was a very bad idea, we headed out into our adventure.

The woods were covered in thick underbrush that constantly scratched and tore at our legs. It only got worse as the hill got steeper and steeper. My mood got a little better when Ben kept tripping over roots and undergrowth. It was a great distraction until I started falling too. Then it wasn't so funny anymore. Molly, our Terrier, was having a hard time herself; some of the growth was a least a foot higher than she was. Between the dog's troubles, my inability to remain vertical and our general confusion as to where exactly we were going, the guys were getting quite frustrated and were struck by yet another brilliant idea (please note sarcasm). Ben would go ahead alone and set up camp so that by the time we got there we could crash. Once again I let them know what a bad, bad idea this was. I have seen enough TV movies to know that separating under any conditions (whether it is a madman chasing you with a bloody ax or finding your way through a mountain forest as darkness quickly approaches) is ALWAYS a bad idea. Once again my pleas were ignored and Ben headed off into the wilderness with his skinny little dog, Stoney.

Things only got worse as Brian and I climbed our way up the mountain. Ben was long gone and Brian and I were not sure if we were heading in the right direction so we just kept hiking up thinking we would eventually run into the camp. The brush got thicker and the mountainside got so steep that Brian and I had to literally crawl on all fours; standing up was impossible at such a precipitous incline. Things went from bad to worse, and it did not help matters that darkness was imminent. There was a deep ravine (it went down at least 75 feet) on our right, and at one point Brian's foot slipped. Luckily, he caught himself before plummeting to his demise and leaving me to my own. I was mentally and physically exhausted and convinced that I was going to be dinner for a grizzly. Only God could help us now so I kept repeating the Lord's Prayer over and over. I think this freaked Brian out a little, because even Mr. Macho, "I was in the Army," was getting worried. I knew things were really bad when he started swearing (which he never does) and said, "We are going to be one of those %^$&(# idiot lost hikers that have no idea what they are doing, get lost, and end up on the news." I decided then and there that we needed to get back to the car with or without Ben, because there was no way I was going to be on the news, dead or alive, looking like death warmed over (as you can see for yourself in the picture). We sat on our butts taking turns carrying the dog on our laps as we slid down the mountain which, by the way, is not nearly as much fun as it sounds. My butt was raw by the time we got to the point where we could walk again. And there it was; my beautiful Honda that would carry me away from death's door.

The only problem was that we had no idea where Ben was, and Brian's cell phone did not work from our location so calling for help was not an option. Hoping that Ben had better luck than we did, we decided to camp out in the car. If there was no sign of him by morning we planned to go find help. At least he had all the food. After sitting bored and starving in the car for a couple of hours we heard the jingling of a dog collar coming out of the darkness. Ben and Stoney had come back to the car after fruitlessly waiting at camp for us. Apparently, while we were hiking up Brian and I veered left and ended up on the wrong side of the ravine. Ben hiked on the right side, and had eventually got to the camp. We happily piled into the car, and after stuffing ourselves at McDonald's, a well deserved meal since I am sure we burned every ounce of fat and calories we ate, we headed home and our adventure became a memory. It was definitely a scary experience and we were lucky that we made it back to safety without any serious injuries. I did get some immense pleasure out of the experience though; the delight of being right.