How Quickly The Familiar Can Become The Unfamiliar

Not long ago–on an overcast and potentially stormy afternoon–Sarah, Kate (our Border Collie), and I went for a walk in the woods behind our neighborhood. Several years ago (during the housing boom) that area had been cleared and intended for another subdivision, but it never was built. Since then it has overgrown, but a few dirt roads/trails, still used by hikers or four-wheel drive vehicles, remain.

We had walked back there before, always following familiar trails. This day we had plenty of time so we decided to do some exploring. Instead of our normal route, we decided to see where the dirt roads went figuring that they would eventually connect back to our neighborhood. As we followed the overgrown road, it would end into what would have been a cul-de-sac or just a dead-end; we’d backtrack to the main “road” and continue on, and the same would happen on the next branch. After a couple of hours of this–as we were enjoying the day, the exercise, and the time together–what had begun as an overcast day with some drizzle developed into rain showers. No big deal, it was Western Washington in the winter and we were dressed appropriately. After following another promising branch of the road we, again, hit another dead-end surrounded by thick trees (we really thought that one would go through). At this point we thought we were well past our neighborhood; we figured we could cut through the forest to get back–and save significant distance–or, of course, we had the option to go back the way we had come (a distance of about three or four miles).

We had no extra equipment, just rain coats, warm clothes, good boots, and my phone. We pulled up the mapping app on my phone and determined where we were (hoping that our pinpointed location was accurate); we were surprised how far we had gone. We needed to go north, and the phone’s compass app showed us which way that was. Once determined, we started through the forest; the undergrowth was heavy, but fortunately there weren’t any blackberry bushes. I went first, with Sarah a little behind me to avoid getting snapped by branches, and Kate (who was only a few months old) jumping over fallen branches and undergrowth going back and forth to “check” on us (she slept very well when we got home). We had to navigate around several areas either too thick to pass or low spots full of water. I had to depend completely on the compass (even though the phone battery was getting low) because between the rainy day and thick woods, there was no way to see landmarks to keep us on course. The experience was reminiscent of Camp McCall when I was in the Army.

Close to an hour later, we finally made it to the edge of our subdivision – because of the rain, low clouds, and trees we weren’t able to even see the houses until we were almost to them. From there only another half mile and we were home. Soaking wet and tired, but fine.

Later I reflected how quickly a “normal”, “routine”, or “ordinary” outing can turn into something more than planned. Fortunately we were dressed appropriately, physically fit enough, and disaster didn’t strike. But, it would have only taken an injury–fall, stick in the eye, twisted ankle–a dead phone, or a worse storm and suddenly “just a walk” would have been something much more serious.

We can’t choose our disaster, when it will happen, or where we’ll be. It’s been said to avoid danger, “… don’t go to stupid places, with stupid people, and do stupid things.” That’s good advice, but frequently things don’t start off that way. On a daily basis it’s worth remembering we’re not just planning for “the big one”, but that common things happen commonly and we need to be prepared for the likely things that happen.

Now, when I go for a walk in the woods, I carry a pack. It’s mostly full of rocks (really) because carrying the heavy pack on my walks with Kate is part of my workout. BUT it also contains: a first-aid kit, warm gloves and hat, a small tarp, water, food, a compass, a flashlight, a fire starting kit, and other items; I also plant to get an external phone backup battery. Do I need all that? No. Am I recommending all that? No. I’ve just decided if I’m carrying a pack for a workout I might as well carry useful things. I also looked at that area on Google Maps and now I know where the trails go and where they don’t. So I’ve thought about what happened, planned how to avoid duplicating it, am more prepared if something does go wrong, and learned from the experience.

For any activity you’re involved in: Think. Plan. Prepare. Learn.

(Wednesday: Momma Bear)