Hiking Adventure (or should I say nightmare)

We went hiking a couple weekends ago in the Pocono Mountains in Pa. It was actually a ski resort that has hiking trails on the other side of the mountain. It’s a popular destination, and there were quite a few people hanging around the top of the mountain sightseeing. It was mid-afternoon, there were four of us and our poochie. We look at the map, pick a trail, and head off. We started at the top of the mountain, so we go down down down. Which means at some point we need to go up up up. We’re not going far, according to the map. Maybe three miles, maybe an hour and a half.

So we’re walking and hit a fork with no signs. One way goes to the left, and one way goes to the right. The left has trail blazes on the trees, so off we go to the left, where we wander for an hour and never go up. Like we should be doing. I say, “Hold on, this doesn’t seem right. We should have been done by now.” It’s getting later and darker, mind you. Everyone else is like, “We’re fine!”

After another fifteen minutes, I decide to call the park office. A nice woman answers and I explain the situation. She seems puzzled by the fact that we’re on the South trail, and haven’t intersected with the Vista Trail, which would take us back to the parking lot. Margery, ( in my head, she sounded like a Margery ) told me, “Vista trail has to be right there. Keep going.” She volunteered to stay on the line because she was that confident we would hit the intersection any minute.

I say, “Can’t you have someone come down Vista trail and blow a horn or something?”

She explains that, “No, that’s not possible. You’re fine. Don’t panic.”

I say, “I’m not panicking, but here’s my name and phone number for the obituary.”

She tells me to hold on a sec, she has to help a customer. Ten minutes later we’re still walking and she comes back on. “Did you see Vista trail?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Hm, ok, maybe you should turn around, you must have missed it.”

It takes some convincing, but I get the troops to turn back. And we’re walking and walking and it’s getting darker and darker. I want a search and rescue now, but Margery insists we’re fine, we’re on a trial, and she proceeded to tell me search and rescues cost a lot of money.

“Ok,” I say, “we’ll keep walking.” She agrees to call me back.

Another fifteen minutes goes by and she calls back. “Where are you?”

“How the fuck do I know Margery, you tell me.”

“You didn’t see Vista?”

“No, we didn’t see Vista.”

“Ok, Lori, hold on.” She puts me down and in a minute comes back on, “Lori, I need you to call 9-1-1.”

“What now?”

“Call 9-1-1.”

Well that escalated quickly. “Ah, I thought we were fine. That you weren’t sending anyone.”

She goes, with more force mind you, “Lori, you’re wasting time, I need you to hang up and call 9-1-1. They’ll be able to get a GPS on you.”

Jesus, Margery, calm the fuck down. So I call, and the dude pinpoints us and says to go back to the fork in the trail. Which we do. And finally get on the right trail, because for fuck’s sake, we were never even on the goddamn South Trail to begin with. No wonder Margery was so perplexed. We were fine, though. And later I had a missed call on my phone from the area code at the resort. I’m sure it was Margery checking to make sure we were still alive. Facing life and death situations bonds people. I’m getting her a Yankee Candle for Christmas.

Moral of the story: Don’t travel with me, don’t cook with me, and don’t hike with me.