"Remember that trip when we were lost?" M asked me. "What? We've never been lost!" I replied.

"Yes we were," she said. "And we couldn't find that lake."

"Oh, you mean Grouse Lake. We weren't lost. The lake was," I clarified.

To be very clear, we have never been lost on a hiking trip, at least by my definition. My definition of "lost" is not knowing where you are, and not knowing how to get home.

By that definition I have never been lost--not even when I was six and became separated from my family in a huge department store in an unknown city. I simply went to the door we used to enter the store and waited. I knew they'd be back through that door, and I'd meet them there. I wasn't worried. They apparently were.

But there are certainly other definitions. And by those, we have wandered at times.

>> We have not known exactly where we were. In fact, on one memorable occasion, we didn't find out until we came home and posted photos.

>> We have not found what we were looking for, even though we were clearly very close to it--sometimes within 100 yards, as it turned out later.

>> We have become separated and only found each other by using whistles to find out where the other one had gone. (Do NOT underestimate how important whistles are in this situation---we couldn't hear each other's voice, but we could clearly hear the whistles!) But while we haven't been lost, we have been unsure.

Now bear in mind that we don't use a GPS--mainly because we don't like the cost, and don't like the fact that the batteries won't last long enough for many of the trips we take. What we do use is a compass, lots of topo maps, signs, trails, and dead-reckoning. And yes, we have been unsure:



>> We once hiked to Heart Lake near Lassen National Park. There is no trail, and the topo map showed lots of logging roads. But the area had been logged after the topo maps were printed, and so the roads were completely different. We never did find the lake. But we will next time.

>> We once hiked to Tangle Blue Lake in the Trinity Alps, following directions from a local, who had only ridden horses there, and told us about a short-cut that by-passed the first few miles of the trail. After a couple of delightful (more or less) hours wandering through alders and manzanita, we gave up. She later told us that she had forgotten one key point in those short-cut directions...!

>> We've hiked through the forest out of Tuolumne Meadows towards Mariolumne and Mendicott Domes, only to find ourselves at the foot of Fairview Dome.

>> We once hiked up from Fremont Lake to Cinko Lake, by-passing Chain of Lakes to hike up Walker Meadow....because we never did see the trail to Chain of Lakes.

>> We once hiked DOWN the East Fork of the Carson River to Murray Canyon because we cold not find the trail that hiked UP the Carson River to connect to the PCT. We later learned that trail had not been maintained for nearly forty years, according to the ranger.

>> We once hiked around the west end of Milk Run Meadow for an hour and a half because we could not find the trail that leads up to Peep Sight Peak.

>> We once hiked cross country over snow covered creeks and up near vertical slopes because we could not find the trail to Broke-Off Mountain in Lassen. We did get to the top. We got back. But not via the trail.

>> And yes, we once hiked across the southern part of Yosemite National Park towards Grouse Lake, where we were going to camp the first night. We could not find it. I was quite frustrated, and finally hiked down into a little valley to see if I could find a trail up to the lake. After staring up the valley for a good five minutes, I turned around to find the lake fifty yards away in plain sight behind me.
But we've never been lost.

There is a quote somewhere that goes:
"I have never been lost, just a mite confused for a couple days." I am sure I got the quote wrong, and I don't know who said it.

There have been many times when I didn't know exactly where I was... but I did know what valley I was in, or looking into.

If your or your wife are worried about it.. you can get a gps. Just get the cheapest etrex and only use it to find coordinates. If you only turn it on to find coordinates every day or so, the batteries last a long time. And, the cheapest etrex is around $80 on amazon. That is how I use my etrex 10. I print off topos with UTM grid coordinates, and follow the maps exclusively. And, whenever I need to, I turn on the gps and get the UTM grid coordinate and find it on my map.

Of course, I doubt you need a gps. You have already hiked a LOT without one. And, I can't think of a better activity than wandering around the mountains with my wife, lost or not.

LOL. Nice post. Yeah...we do have fun out there. And we never stayed confused for very long!

And I have two versions of that quote--from Daniel Boone:


“I've never been lost, but I was mighty turned around for three days once.”



“I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.”

Daniel Boone, I should have known.

Ha! Yet for all that excess of wandering, here you are snug and back home...hmmm...maybe a little more "not being lost" is called for.

I do carry a GPS insofar as my smartphone has one built in. If I think there's a chance that a navigation fall-back plan would be a good idea, I can download map data and sometimes even specific trail data. Sometimes a GPS is really helpful. More often I think of it along the line of my first aid kit --- much of that stuff I hope I'll never use, but it's a good idea to have it along. Hike just once at high elevation, by yourself, in a near white-out with snow and sleet blowing sideways, soaked through --- and you'll be glad to have a GPS ! (fortunately I've only done THAT the once)

The "got lost" story that I tell about myself is from a training hike before the PCT. I wanted to hike in snow to shake down my gear and process for that, so hiked up into mountainous country. The snow covered lower brush but a lot of stuff sticking up made the going tough, and of course there was no path to follow. Struggling through vegetation at a particularly difficult area, I noticed that a stream was flowing backwards. On reflection, I realized that I had somehow gotten just "all turned around" in my duck-and-push-aside vegetation moves, so that it was I that was moving backwards.

One can only stop and laugh at such moments! Yes, a compass can sort out that particular problem, and if a lot of fresh snow isn't falling one can literally backtrack if necessary in snow (most times), but still ... I do like having a GPS. Sometimes it's helpful for planning to know just exactly where I am, as in "how far to next water source", or "should I stop here or can I likely find a good campsite an hour from here", or, or ...

I lost a trail once when it crossed a meadow; I couldn't find the blaze that marked the re-entry into the woods. (This was my second backpack ever, and my first solo trip.) As I felt the panic set it, I remembered that book said "if you think you're lost, stop and eat a snack, calm down, and figure it out." So, I did. When I stood back up, I quickly found the missing blaze. It was on the tree I had been leaning against.

Nice!

We had a similar experience in the Sierra. We had hiked about as far as we wanted to hike that day, and the trail lead to a large meadow. We could NOT see where it went from there. So we spent a delightful night at the meadows, and the next day we were headed for home.

But before we left, I walked across the meadow, to discover the blaze clearly on the tree, right where it should have been. But the little tree in front of it, only fifteen or twenty years old, had grown up to cover it.

Once I was doing a solo trip in the Ansel Adams, just me and my dog. We were off-trail looking for some obscure lake, at the end of a long cold day, it was getting dark, and I was fried. I dropped my pack to go looking for the lake and found it, but could not remember where the hell my pack was. Did a lot of looking with an increasing feeling of anxiety. Finally I sat down to ponder what the hell to do and my dog looked at me and then just trotted off in a bee-line with me following her, straight to the backpack. She was very smart about such things, my gps.

I've been lost for a short period of time and had to spend about 1.5 hours before I was confident that I again was locked in on my location. I did know that I could always head "over that way" and I'd hit the river which I could then lead myself out but hey, what fun would THAT be?

Another time I didn't realize I was lost until I was following a slowly curving ridge and ended up seeing a view that 100% confused me. It was like magic had occurred and transported me to a spot that was 180 degrees opposite where I thought I was going. At point I checked my mp and realized I had missed the turn to get off the ridge and had stayed on it too long. That's what I get for getting lost in my own thoughts and ended up lost in the woods, yet didn't know it.

These are great stories!

And they would make a good lesson for those who are newer to the world of backpacking. It's OK to feel a bit confused on the trail, but all of us have taken our time, not panicked, and eventually figured it out.

That's way better than running!

On a trip in the GTW we placed out tent near the edge of a cliff above the upper Kern River to better facilitate watching the Perseid meteor shower. Being relatively early in the day, we wandered off to explore and of course, somehow lost the placement of our campsite. Methodically trying to retrace our steps took quite awhile and some loss of height in the sun's travel. We did find some lion tracks, which makes my wife remind me every time I suggest such a foray again. That, or the time we did a night hike in Joshua Tree and wandered around a bit trying to find the cluster of three glacial erratic boulders that marked our tent. Dodging cholla and waiting for a rattler to go off doesn't help the search any. The only thing that was erratic it turned out, was my search methods.

I "lost" my camp while searching for water after dark once. I soon re-found it by shining my headlamp around the area. The reflective guylines on my tent (the ones from Gossamer Gear) were worth their weight in gold on that occasion--I spotted them from over a quarter mile away!

I lost my soul when I turned 18 and bought a car. Spent far too much time in the soulless places where concrete reigns supreme. Then I started backpacking. Found my soul again... :-)