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
