I went hunting this morning. I drove about 12 miles back into the mountains to the south of my house. I picked an interesting area which had a convergence of three ravines, and no road access. "Ah, that looks like a nice place for moose to hide," I told myself. I started my decent without a sound. I was wearing moccasins, which helped me be very quiet. Slowly, I blended in with the landscape, moving slowly, and ever deeper into the wild.

I found deer tracks, and moose sign, too. The moose sign looked rather recent, which was good. I marveled at the beauty of the changing colors of leaves. The birch and the thimble berry plants were turning yellow.

After an hour, I had gone about as far as I wanted. I didn't want to follow the same route back, so I checked the sun, and picked a heading that would take me back to the truck faster. I crossed a large cut-block, and expected to be in sight of the truck. Instead, there were more trees, and steep ravine which I didn't remember seeing before. I didn't want to push my skills with cross county navigation, especially since my present attempts were not working out, so I back tracked. I came to a low tree which I remembered crawling under. I felt a little relief, especially since I had left my hunting pack, with the compass and matches back with the truck.

But when I came to the overturned roots of a fallen tree, I thought, "That was on my right, when I came here, so I should put it on the left to leave." But that didn't look right either.

I criss-crossed the area, always coming back to the fallen tree and root pile. With each trip, I was changing my memory of the area. Now, it all looked right and wrong at the same time.

I looked around, a bird was signing, but it didn't know the concern I was having at that moment. I was at least twelve miles from a paved road, with mountains to interfere with my sighting. I had to admit there was a chance I would be staying over night if I couldn't get this sorted out.

I decided to gain ground so I could see above the cedar and fir trees. Maybe I could see a road or my truck. I chose to follow a old dirt road bed that was left over from when the area was logged 20 years ago. I figured that I could remember that easy enough once I got my bearings. As I got higher, I caught a glimpse of a pickup truck passing by. If I were closer, I would have hitched a ride and found my truck with help, but that wasn't going to happen. The truck vanished from sight and was gone, without ever knowing I was there. I kept walking.

I walked another 200 yards and I was getting closer to the dirt logging road. I came around a tree and what did my wondering eyes see? My red truck was parked just up ahead. Then it all made sense. The old road I was on was the original path I took down into the hunting area. The lay of the land forced me to travel in a circle over a mile area. The circle trek was gradual enough to feel like it was more or less a straight travel, but it wasn't.

Daniel Boone, and American pioneer back in the 1730's, during the time of flintlock gun ignition, was asked if he had ever been lost. He said, "I was bewildered for three days once, but I wasn't lost." Well, I was bewildered, and it was feeling on the scary side of "lost". I was very pleased to hear the truck engine fire up once again. I had had enough adventure for the day. I went home and grilled a hamburger on the BBQ grill.