My SNF Adventure - Page 5

I reached the side trail and turned to follow it. The landscape along the side trail was lush and like that of a park. The R2R Trail, which I had just left, seemed mostly barren in comparison. I felt like this had to be the right trail. I was ready to forget about my predicament, as I was convinced that the Picnic Ground and water were only 1/2 mile ahead.

I started to worry again when I passed a tree-stand. A bow hunter had built it to ambush and kill deer. The stand was something that, I was sure, the Forest Service would not allow in the park. Only my ignorance of the exact distance that I had traveled could dampen a resurgence of anxiety. My unknowing state of bliss was enough to allow me to continue up the trail with enthusiasm.

A bit further up the trail, I passed a barricade-gate. I wondered why the gate was there. With a good coat of paint and fresh reflective tape, the gate was not something that one would expect to find out in a remote area. It looked new. Surely, the gate was there to stop trespassers from driving vehicles into the wilderness. I thought that this was a sure sign that I was on the right path.

Shortly after I passed the barricade, the trail converged with a gully. Two ramshackle cabins, one located on each side of the trail, flanked my path. They were pitiful structures, only half standing, and the trail became rocky again. Debris lay strewn around these ruins. I had stumbled on to a backcountry dump of sorts. So much for a park-like atmosphere.

The trail straightened, and I could see something massive up ahead. Daylight seemed to be fading. I emerged from the forest into a field of tall weeds. The mass in the distance gradually revealed itself to be a pile of timber. It was a makeshift barricade, and beyond it lay a road. And to my left, beyond a line of trees, was another road. But I wasn't anywhere near my desired destination.

It's always something.

How odd, I thought, a trail that leads to such a place. The trail, the one that crossed that field, was obviously an abandoned Forest Service road. I was so close to civilization, yet I was so far away. What with the tall weeds and brush; the large timber pile; the trees; and the wide water-filled ditch, I was isolated. I could hear vehicles passing on the road, but I could not see them. Dusk was approaching, and I could not turn back. I had to cross those barriers. The wilderness had one more insult in store for me.

I turned to my right, taking the path of fewest obstacles, and waded through the brush. After several yards, I stood on the bank of a wide and deep ditch. It wasn't nearly a canyon, but it was wide and deep as roadside ditches go, and it was half full of putrid water. I could see a road, about 20 yards to my left, and two 4-foot diameter culverts running under the road. Directly across the ditch, I could also see clear evidence of another road about 6 feet above my head and about 10 yards away.

Seeing no other way to cross the ditch, I decided to remove my shoes and wade across it. My feet sank into the muddy bottom as I made my slow and deliberate crossing. The weeds on the other side were just as tall, and the bank was just as steep. I had spied an opening in the brush, and I headed for it. My efforts to cross the quagmire with any amount of dignity and care were in vain. While trying to navigate my way along the far bank -- one leg still in the water and one leg on the slippery bank -- I stepped into a deep hole. I lost my balance and fell. I floundered in the mud, trying to pick myself up. Covered in muck and looking like a crazed wild man, I worked my way up to the road.