What to Do When You Are Lost in the Woods

This is a combination of two old blog posts: How to Cope with Panic (April 2012) and On Being Lost in the Woods (February 2012). The two posts belong together, so why not unite them? I still approve of my original decision to write exclusively about the nigleh and not the nistar, since the former is valuable in its own right, and the latter is something that each person must grapple with on his or her own.

What to Do When You Are Lost in the Woods

One highlight of my recent cabin retreat was the opportunity to revisit the highly enjoyable Complete Book of Camping, by Leonard Miracle and Maurice H. Decker. Take a gander:

As you can tell from its cover, this book is not written in recent times. The hardcover edition at the cabin was published in 1961, and the age shows in the writing style. I discovered the book sitting on one of the shelves covered with a thin layer of dust on my first trip to The Cabin. I initially picked it up just to flip through the table of contents, but I soon found myself engrossed in its pages. Since then, I've read through much of it several times, and I am always delighted by the gems I find.

For the record: I am by no means an outdoorsman. I have never been camping "for real" (i.e. without such luxuries as electricity and running water), nor do I foresee myself doing so in the near future. Nevertheless, I gain a tremendous amount of pleasure and benefit from reading what the frontiersman authors of this book have to say about the multifaceted art of camping.

Have a look at the authors and their bios and you'll get a better sense of who we're dealing with: 

The authors of this book are eminently practical men. Their writing reflects the same quality of craftsman's artful simplicity that I admire so much in Bruce Lee, only with a more rugged edge. Take, for instance, the opening paragraphs of Chapter 3 "On Bedding":

It should be established at once that it is the ignoramus, not the expert, who says that he will merely roll up in a blanket and spend the night under the stars. You will never hear such talk from men who know. 

The experienced camper knows that, to get a good night's sleep that will keep him healthy and efficient, he must have a bed that is warm, dry, level, and reasonably well padded.  

Youngsters and other novice campers get misleading ideas about outdoor sleeping from many Hollywood movies. Movie cowboys, for example, often doze off on the bare ground, their heads on their saddles. They sleep in their clothes, with a slicker or a saddle blanket as their only covering. At dawn they stand up refreshed and virile - ready to wrestle steers or bad men. But - make no mistake about it - such sleeping habits work only in the movies.  

Such professional outdoorsmen as forest rangers, big-game guides, and western sheepherders use air matresses, down-filled sleeping bags, and canvas ground cloths. The make their beds under a tent or some kind of waterproof roof when there is the slightest chance of rain or snow. Many of the wiser and more grizzled heads rest on pillows plump with waterfowl down. They are as finicky as rich brides about each item of camp bedding.

This excerpt exemplifies a theme that runs through the entire book: slapping some horse sense into the minds of young whippersnappers and city slickers who have been deluded by motion pictures into a highly romanticized view of the great outdoors. Almost every chapter begins with a refutation of commonly held notions which, after the fact, are clearly childish. For example, here is the opening of the section entitled "Choosing a Pack-Trip Horse":

Many novices given the chance to choose their own mount from a string of gentle saddle horses make the mistake of selecting by color. Fiction of one kind and another has spread the belief that a white horse, for example, will be of pure and dauntless spirit and of gentler nature than the coal-black steed. The strawberry roan is supposed to be wild and woolly. A buckskin horse is tough and durable. The palomino and the pinto are thought to have special virtue because of their unusual color. 

All this is pure fancy. Color by itself is no indication of a horse's speed, temperament, or any other ability. Disregard color, and choose a compact, short-backed horse with clean-cut legs and head. An excess of speed and spirit can be a hazard in a horse that will be ridden at a walk over rough, narrow trails with steep drop-offs. Leave the jumpy, highstrung mounts for flatland riders, and choose a horse that is alert but calm. Pass up the round-backed, big-bellied horse. It is awkward to straddle and possibly soft and lazy, and a saddle turns too easily on that balloon-shaped torso. The gaunt, long-legged horse is also a poor choice as a rule. It may be a poor rustler of feed in mountain meadows and is likely to be nervous and jumpy, lacking the steady power and stamina a trail horse needs.

See what I mean? No nonsense. Nothing but practicality.

Okay, enough about the authors and their general style. On to the topic at hand.

Artwork: Lost in the Woods, by Matt Stewart

My favorite chapter in the book is the chapter entitled "Plan to Get Lost." As you may have guessed, this chapter is about what to do when you get lost in the wilderness. The chapter begins with a vivid depiction of the scenario:

Thus, the cautious and meticulous route planner, trail marker, and compass checker rarely gets lost. His pessimistic caution, however, is foreign to the nature of most campers, so we deal now with the exuberant majority - the people who never think of back trails and compass bearings while the breeze is fresh and the sun is warm and the vale ahead full of promise. 

The crucial moment with 90 per cent of all persons lost in the woods comes in that instant when they first realize they are lost. One minute the wanderer is merely puzzled, perhaps irritated at the delay in locating a trail or landmark. A second later the words "I'm lost!" flash through the mind - and they panic the novice beyond all reason. This is the point where intelligent thought can be swamped. There is an irrational urge to run after the missing trail as if it were a live thing that must be recaptured by headlong pursuit. The friendly forest is abruptly full of stalking phantoms, and flight is your only escape. The fresh breeze is a cold wind now, the yellow sun paler and plummeting toward dusk and darkness. Walk faster, faster! Run! 

You will feel this panic the first time you are lost in big woods. Perhaps it sounds improbable as you read about it in your own living room, but some sense of panic at being lost is as normal as shivering when you are cold. Be prepared to cope with it. 

Although I have never been lost in the woods, this seems like a pretty good description of the state of mind. What would you do if you realized you were lost? I would probably try frantically to retrace my steps. I might use what little knowledge I have about how to find my bearings, such as the North Star or the thing about moss growing on the north side of trees (which, apparently, isn't always true). Maybe I would start shouting for help, depending on how desperate I was.

But this is not the approach advised by our authors. No sir. There is a reason why they begin with a description of the "I'm lost!" state of mind: in their expert opinion, the state of mind is the root of the problem. Thus, their first piece of advice:

Stop traveling the instant those words, "I'm lost" take shape in your thinking. If you are standing, sit down. If you smoke, light up. If you wear a pack, take it off. Get out a sandwich or candy bar if you have one. All of these are simple tricks to keep you rooted where you are until that urgent hurry, hurry mood passes. If you feel you are in serious trouble, build a fire. Nothing will calm and reassure you more quickly than to get a cheerful blaze going. The work involved keeps your mind from spinning aimlessly, and the fire gives you an established base. With the fire going, you have a camp right where you are, and the only problem now is to plan the best route back to the camp or trail you left in the beginning. In a sense you are not lost any more: that urgent need to escape is gone. 

The first step is to address the mental state of panic. Only then should you focus on regaining your bearings. The authors continue by providing some suggestions on how to do this, all while continuing to reassure the mind of the lost camper:

You are now in shape to use your head rather than your feet. Where were you last definitely on the right track? Think back step by step. Chances are your mistake will come to mind as vividly as the sudden realization that you were lost. You took the wrong fork in the trail, perhaps, or turned down the wrong slope of the ridge. Maybe camp is upriver, and you clung to the notion it was downstream from the point where you hiked out of the brush. The man who sits down and calms himself with familiar distractions such as pipe loading, eating, and fire building can nearly always think himself back to base camp.  

When the solution is immediately and positively clear to you, put out your fire, gather up your gear, and be on your way. You are not lost at all. If you have the slightest doubt, however, mark your trail as you go so you can easily find your way back to the point where you stopped to collect your wits and directions. That is the closest spot to camp or trail that you know for sure.  

Unless you see your mistake at once, do not move from the little camp you have established. Get out your map and compass. The map will show that horseshoe bend in the river below you. That tallest peak beyond the river bend is due west, your compass shows. The peak is on the map, too, and so is the road you are aiming for. It is about a mile south of the peak and river bend. You are just on the wrong side of the ridge. Climb to the saddle 200 yards south of you, and you will see the road in the valley beyond. Pack up and go there. 

Lacking map and compass, try drawing a map of all you can remember in the dirt with a twig, with pencil and paper if you have them. No help? Climb the little butte to your right, marking a foolproof trail as you go, and look for something familiar from that vantage point. Listen for any sound in a known direction - say, the noon whistle of the sawmill in the valley to the east, the rumble of the ore train from the mine where your car is parked.  

Still no luck? Well, you will now have to settle down to being lost overnight. 

The authors then go on to recommend procedures for how to set up an impromptu camp and how to send emergency signals. At the very end of the chapter - a subsection entitled, "Why Worry?" - the authors reiterate their fundamental insight:

The first and final thing to remember about being lost is that 99 per cent of the real danger is from panic - unreasonable fear that causes intelligent people to injure or deplete themselves in their own foolish stampedes ... 

There is considerable danger to anyone lost in such extreme climates as Death Valley or the Arctic. Even those formidable areas can be mastered by the standard traveler who calmly rigs a good shelter and uses emergency signals efficiently.  

The great majority of people who get lost are out in temperate climates and only a few miles from a good road or trail. With calm planning, this garden variety of "lostness" is no more than an inconvenience.  

As the following chapter will explain, the average man can get by without most of the things he considers necessities in his everyday life. The city-pampered gourmet will eat a rabbit raw after two hungry weeks in the wilds. The man who considers two flights of stairs a hardship can carry a pack over a mountain pass if he has to. And the fellow who shivers each time his home furnace falters can survive in a lean-to in weather far below freezing. There is a tough and adaptable animal just beneath the pampered skin of modern man.

And that, in short, is a sound approach on how to cope with the panic of getting lost in the woods. Let's summarize the steps:

1. Calm your panicked state of mind; recognize that your hope lies in a calm state of mind.
2. Mentally retrace your steps to see where and how you deviated from the proper course.
3. Once you have a clear idea of how you lost your way, start retracing your steps - but mark your trail so you can find your way back.
4. Map your route to the best of your ability, use all of the tools at your disposal, and stick to the most certain knowledge available - all while maintaining a keen awareness of your surroundings in order to pick up any clues that might help you to find your way.
5. Remember that you have the ability to adapt, and be prepared to do so. 

Pretty sound advice, right? Now for a real challenge: see if you can apply this to the nistar application as well. Rather than spell it out, I will leave you with a poetic bridge from the nigleh to the nistar in the form of an excerpt from "Walden" (1854), by Henry James Thoreau:

It is a surprising and memorable, as well as valuable experience, to be lost in the woods any time. Often in a snow storm, even by day, one will come out upon a well-known road, and yet find it impossible to tell which way leads to the village. Though he knows that he has traveled it a thousand times, he cannot recognize a feature in it, but it is as strange to him as if it were a road in Siberia. By night, of course, the perplexity is infinitely greater. In our most trivial walks, we are constantly, though unconsciously, steering like pilots by certain well-known beacons and headlands, and if we go beyond our usual course we still carry in our minds the bearing of some neighboring cape; and not till we are completely lost, or turned round -- for a man needs only to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost -- do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of nature. Every man has to learn the points of compass again as often as be awakes, whether from sleep or any abstraction. Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations.

I hope that if you someday become lost, that you will be able to cope with the panic, and that you emerge as a found person.