On the Trail

The other day my adult son, Andy, told me of a misadventure

he had just experienced. Seems that he was bike riding several

miles away from his home. Now this nature trail was not situated

in the remote wilds of Montana’s mountainous terrain nor was

it spread out in the vast expanse of Utah’s Canyon Lands. No,

he somehow managed get turned around in a hilly and wooded

area in the suburban outskirts of Blue Springs, Missouri just a few

miles outside of Kansas City.

Before he could navigate his way back to where he began his trek,

the sun had set, and he found himself trapped and lost in total

darkness. Due to the dropoffs and undetectable ravines, my son

had to ditch his bike in the thicket, and grope cautiously along

the uncertain trail for a hour or two until he finally reached the

safety of a paved road . He flagged down a passing motorist who

graciously gave him a ride back to the reserve’s parking lot and the

safe surroundings of his own car.

My son was fearful for a time that he may have had to spend the

night alone in the woods without food, water and shelter until

daybreak came to show him the way. I couldn’t see a search party

being sent out for someone who had lost their way in a metropolitan

area. After all, it was a fair and mild autumn night, and to the best of

my reckoning, there hadn’t been a bear or cougar sighting in the area

for better than a hundred years.

I was reminded, however, that I could definitely relate to my son’s

dubious situation as I myself have been there—In the dark of night,

no matter where you are, the deep forest of uncertainty appears to

go on forever, where no trail seems to show the way home. I had to

breathe a sigh of relief as his phone call to me a few hours later told

me that he made it back to the apocryphal environs of society.

Chris Hanch 10-14-17