Letter: A Long Walk in the Wrong Direction

Trails were posted “hazardous and route-finding skills required.”

It was supposed to have been a paved path trail up the mountain aways. Early summer flowers would be sprinkled across the meadows, birds would be singing, butterflies would be flitting about.

Nope. None of the above. Everything above was snowed in.

The better part of valor was obvious, even to me, and that was if an enjoyable day was to be had it was now not up, but down.

What could go wrong?

Keep reading.

Traveling by truck back down the mountain to find a place for lunch I stopped at the falls, took pictures, then noticed the trail continued on down.

Not far at all down that trail I saw a marker indicating a lake was to the left only a mile-and-a-half.

Having seen the mountain, and having visited the falls and river, I thought a lake would be a nice spot to spread out my pack’s contents for my picnic.

So, I hung a left.

The trail switched back, and back again, steadily climbing and climbing and somewhere there may have been a sign that said something about a lake but it may have also been at that time that I received a text which surprised me given reception was nonexistent.

So it was that as my friend and I texted along, I trudged along, breathing hard, wandering across the now snow covered trail, and wondering ‘where is that lake?’

And getting hungry.

All of a sudden, the trail ended.

On a road.

And no lake.

And no reception.

And no lunch.

Rather than go back the way I came which had been quite tortuous, I took the road.

I walked and walked, and walked some more thinking I should surely have come back by now to where my truck should be but the road just kept winding about the mountain.

Finally, I came to where a tour bus had stopped and gawkers were admiring the view and it was then that I discovered I was on the road to the ‘wrong’ side of the mountain.

The trail I had been on had taken me up one side and down the other and back up again of forested mountains in their own right, such that here I was, my “route-finding skills” in serious disarray leaving me with a long walk back.

With no lake.

And no lunch.

And a lesson about life.

“Route-finding skills required.”