Lost and Found

Lost and Found

Studying the map to trace the best path out, if only she were sure where she was… She’d ‘decided’ by the map, but it was iffy. If the hill she saw was “Pete Hill” then she was here, but if it was “Rolling Hill” or “Darby” she could be on the whole other side. One thing she knew for sure was that she was lost.

She had the map, food and water, but after a night huddled under her sweatshirt next to a tree she was a bit panicky. Her arm hurt. She’d probably already been lost when she tumbled down the hill, though at the time she thought she was an hour west of her camp getting ready to turn back. That’s when a small misstep sent her flying down a rolling hill.

Just aim at Pete, she told herself, there’s a small road near Pete Hill. She took a deep breath and started, periodically climbing trees or rocks to make sure she still had Pete in her sight.

After two hours, and siting Pete from a large rock formation, she noticed something on the rocks. Probably a broken pack strap left behind, but she went to check it anyway. It was actually a whole backpack mostly hidden under rocks. She checked it thoroughly but there were no identifying marks, no names. It appeared to have been there for a very long time from the deplorable condition of the canvas, she flung it over her shoulder and brought it along. Pete Hill actually was Pete Hill, she found the road, and she made it home. Plus, she would never be getting lost again.

From now on she would be using guides. Professional guides, in Africa, South America, maybe Australia. That backpack had been chock full of money.