Have you ever been lost in the wilderness?

As you’re hiking, keep looking back and planning a route back to trailhead.  Look at ridges, canyons, etc.  Where trails are.

Don’t just set off, enthusiastically, and when you’re at the farthest point then wonder which way to get back.

I’ve sort of got lost a few times.  Sometimes I’ll go the wrong way on a trail then realize it and turn around.  If I ever got truly lost, I wouldn’t be posting here

I’ve had the same night time “lost” experience.  I had set up camp after dark and was just going to get some wood and take a quick pee.  No light, no jacket.  And no camp.  Luckily it was an area I was familiar with and knew there was a trail and a creek that made a V.  As soon as I hit one or the other I would know where I was and made it back to camp colder & wiser.

I have been “lost” before too.  Meaning I wasn’t where I thought I was or where I had planned to be.  But sitting down, studying the map and if possible retracing steps and I would be able to figure out where I was and how to get to where I should be.  And as someone else said, as long as I get back when I should, it doesn’t really matter where I’ve been.

Got a bit confused once. Owing to the way the names were written on the map, I had it rotated by 90 degrees for a while. Um … Sue pointed that out after a bit. Plateau country – confusing.

We were attempting to follow a very old fire trail along a ridge on that occasion. Turns out it had been dozed once for a fire 40 years ago and never maintained. Oz vegetation being what it is, the actual dozed zone was covered in the thickest of scrub. So we decided to take a spur off the ridge down to the river. The topo map showed a spur going out then gently down to the river. Got to the end of the spur and found about 40 m of vertical cliffs all around. Um. Yeah, the (old) maps in this general region have a poor reputation … and the region is FULL of sandstone cliff lines, mostly unmarked.

Cheers

A phone with a Gaia map can really help when you get a lost moment.  Regardless of whether you like it as primary navigation, it can be a huge help to re-find your way.

I have Gaia on my iPhone now, mainly because of a self-inflicted “lost” experience.

I was in the East Cascades four or five years ago following a ridgeline trail and I was looking intently for a connecting trail that would let me complete the loop I had planned.  My map noted the connecting trail was “indistinct” and it was shown dropping off the ridge trail before I got to Navarre Peak.  Right where the ridge trail started to rise up the shoulder of Navarre Peak there was, yep, an indistinct trail dropping off into the valley below.  No signage, and the trail looked more like an animal trail than a human trail, but during a water and snack break I managed to convince myself that this HAD to be the connecting route.  So down I went, and when the trail got really sketchy I remember looking back up at the ridge and thinking “this can’t be the right trail”. However the climb back up looked steep and tiring so I convinced myself again that it was indeed the right trail and I kept going down.  Surely there will be some indications here and there (like sawn logs) showing this is a real trail.  Note to self – it wasn’t a trail at all.  But the walking wasn’t terrible and about halfway down at a clearing with a good view of the land I realized that while up on the ridge I had walked one valley too far (they had nearly identical contours on the topo map) and now I’d have to cut back over the hump between the valleys to get where I wanted to go.  Good idea, but at that point the land wouldn’t allow me to do it.

So I kept heading down (it was a beautiful wilderness valley), eventually hit the stream at the valley bottom, and figured if I followed it down to where it connected with the stream flowing from the valley I SHOULD have been in I could follow THAT stream back up to where I needed to be.  But again, the land wouldn’t allow it.  It wasn’t long though before the stream started flowing faster and the walls started to close in and I had the tingly feeling that if I kept to the stream I was going to die.  So I managed to push up and over the intervening ridge and found a way to drop down to the stream flowing through the correct valley.  But where in the valley?  From where I THOUGHT I was the map showed that if I crossed that stream I could climb a ways up the other side and intersect a main trail that would take me back to where I needed to be.  So cross it I did, and woohoo – just on the other side was an abandoned trail that was still in reasonably good shape.  Not the trail I was expecting to find, and not shown on my map, but it was headed in the direction I wanted so I took it.  I still wasn’t completely sure where I was but the situation was looking much better.  I followed that abandoned trail for a couple of miles, hopping over fallen trees and through washouts, and then I hit a dense thicket that had grown over the trail.  I stepped through it and BAM – I was standing on the trail I had been looking for all day.  I turned around and saw that the abandoned route I had been following was now completely invisible.  The thicket hid it so well nobody would have guessed that an old trail was there.  A couple more miles and I was back where I wanted to be, tired but found.  A happy ending to a rather stressful day.

Nowadays I use Gaia as a confirmation check to make sure I’m where I think I am, and to keep my mind from talking me into another bad decision.  So far, so good – I’ve managed to stay found ever since.

^^^

(scrotum contracts)

I had an identical experience off Icicle Ridge, Washington, through the burn area.

It took me 12 hours of controlled terror to get found.

Great write-up. Thanks.

I have deliberately chosen to not know exactly where I was and put my nav skills to the test w/out having Gaia backup when the trail I wanted to take was covered with snow. But I was sure of some larger parameters.

For me, being lost in the desert brings on a whole other level of fear.Take the Superstition Wilderness for example. Scores of hikers have died in that place over the years. Some due to falls and some to exposure, but most have died from dehydration.

It’s so easy to get lost in the Superstitions. There are signs at most trail junctions, however, the only trail markers are cairns (rock piles) and sporadic red ribbon blazes on bushes along the way. And the terrain is extremely rugged with deep gorges. I’ve learned to keep in mind where the last cairn I passed is, and if I go too far before seeing the next one, I go back and start over again. I also log waypoints on my GPS about every mile or so in case I need to backtrack. There are about 4 reliable year round springs in the 160,000 acre Wilderness, of course if you can’t find them they don’t do you any good.

Superstition Wilderness – very biblical!
Nice country.

Central Australia, Ormiston Pound
About as bereft of water as SW above. There is a spring in the side of the mountain behind us. Not well known.

Cheers

I’ve been ‘lost’ three times, all while on well-marked trails in National Parks (RMNP, GNP, and YNP). I was using Trails Illustrated maps, and the campsites and trail connections weren’t where the maps said they’d be. Each time I had to hike a mile or so further than I thought I should have, then backtracked to start over, then back up again. Twice I finally found the camp sites, and in Glacier I just blew it off and took the very long route back to my truck. I don’t have much respect for those maps.

Another time 4 of us were backpacking on top of the Continental Divide in the Weminuche, and some weird weather rolled in during the night. We woke up to a very dense fog. As we got packed up and started to trek back to my truck, the actual Divide became pretty goofy, twisting and turning from high point to high point. At times it would run east to west, then it would change to NE to SW, then from NW to SE. We had map and compass, but it was a real challenge to figure out which way to descend the ridge to actually be on the east side of the Divide. We argued and disagreed for nearly an hour, then finally the fog lifted somewhat and we could “sort of see” where we should be going. The stakes seemed pretty high, because if we would have chosen to descend on the west side by mistake, and dropped down 2000 feet to realize our error, it would have been a very long day indeed.

But we weren’t really lost, because we felt that true manly mountain men don’t get lost. But we sure were bewildered (and a bit frightened).

This has been a pleasure to read. Great thread!

I don’t have any epic stories; got a bit lost a few times, even got a bit scared but nothing major.

Moving to America on my own at 19 with a one way ticket and 200 dollars is what comes to mind as far as “being lost in the wilderness” ;)

When traveling off trail, I’m constantly trying to position myself.  I assume I’m always kind of lost and trying to keep or get back on my intended line of travel.  And I have gone the wrong way when off trail too.  I’ve always been able to backtrack to get back on route.  Gaia allows you to shortcut back to your route a little easier.  Gaia also lets you know a little earlier that you are off route.

I have only briefly been lost on trail.  It was on the AT of all places.  The question was “have you seen any white blazes in awhile?”  We hadn’t.  We backtracked about a half a mile to the blazes.  It was still hard to see the place where the trail actually went; it climbed over a rock and the alternative trail stayed low.  But easy to fix.

Years ago I bought a chip with maps to download on my GPS. But the map pre-dated the Tahoe Rim trail. So I was skiing on that and eventually following the old abandoned trail, that even had some sawn logs to reassure me–until things stopped making sense (where is the bridge across this stream?). No big deal, happily, and I just skied back to a junction that was under snow.

Twice in snow I’ve followed coyote tracks for a good long while that went along the buried trail. One of those times I saw the tracks of two people veer off into the woods while the coyote stayed on course, and me too.

I stink at navigation, my wife is our navigator.  I also routinely walk off trails.  I too have felt the panic of being lost, albeit a very mild case.

Once in a group where I had no map or anything, after a break I noticed that I was alone.  I had no idea which way everyone went.  I had just a light day pack.  All of a sudded there seemed to be trails in all directions.  Sat down, thought a bit, and decided which direction was most likely, and quickly caught up with everyone.

On a nature call in RMNP at a designated campsite in an undistinguished area I thought I kept track of where I walked, looking back many time, taking note of big rocks and such.  Retraced my steps and couldn’t find the site.  Went back to last known location, tried different variation.  Repeated this for a while until I finally saw my wife standing near our tarp.  Again there seemed to be trails in every direction, and all my supposed landmarks looked the same.  Actually I was too embarrased to call to my wife, effectively admitting I got lost on a call of nature.

Once found myself in the middle of the woods on a steep hillside, no trail.  Apparently missed a switchback and kept walking.  Called out to my group, they called back “what the hell are you doing all the way up there?”

On a winter skip trip in the Cascades my partner was ahead of me up to the top of a wooded ridge.  Then he skied down the other side.  I got to the top and saw two ski trails, going in different directions.  It was snowing and I couldn’t tell which one he took.  Decided to just wait for him to return.  After it started getting somewhat dark I set up our tent, no idea what he would do if he didn’t come back.  He said after a nice descent he waited a long time and realized I didn’t know which trail he’d taken.  Took him a long time to climb back up to get me (I think he learned a lesson here).

As a child, in summer camp, a group of us got detached from the main group in an area with relatively open forest and no trails.  I vaguely recall getting real scared, and once someone started running through the woods, we all did.  Luckily we caught up with the main group somehow, otherwise we’d still be running.

I’m sure there’s examples I’m forgetting.  But the important point was my initial response, a very mild kind of panic, which caused me to not think or see straight.

Have not been lost to point I was seriously  worried.

But it is sobering to have map and realize you cant actually find your position. Too many peaks to find a landmark one to get position.

Nowadays, just turn on phone gps. Always have background map downloaded.

I’ve been lost many times. As a kid our church youth group leader always got us lost. It was kind of a joke. We spent an entire day trying to find our way to a campsite that was supposedly only 2 miles from the Piedras Blancas trailhead in the Sespe Wilderness. I still don’t know if we ever found the campsite, but we did find a good place to camp with a creek to play in and somehow the hike out the next morning was pretty easy. We got lost on Donohue Pass on the JMT. Walking on all those creeky boulders was pretty scary but we found the trail again eventually.

I got myself totally and completely lost trying to hike from my house to the Pacific Crest Trail. I was trying to find the Buck Creek Trail but got lost. There were motorcycle tracks confusing me. I followed a motorcycle path and ended up on a nice trail that seemed to match, but then it vanished and I spent 4 hours going down a creek canyon fighting wild roses and stinging nettles not knowing where on earth I was. (Turns out I was in Snowy Creek.) I finally crossed a very wide creek (Piru Creek) and then found myself in a familiar place but totally disoriented. How did I get here? I was exactly where I was trying to get to at exactly the time I had estimated I would get there: Hardluck Campground at 4pm. Cool.

I got lost on the PCT at Sonora Pass, too. I ended up on the Kennedy Creek trail to Kennedy Meadows North. It’s nice when you’re lost to end up somewhere that has ice cream. My buddies were out of their minds with worry though.