A Hiker Learns a Valuable Lesson 

It was mid-July and easily 100 degrees outside. I had no food, was almost out of water, and the last time I’d seen the vibrant orange paint that marked the five mile looped trail through remote Florida woods and swamp had been over four hours ago.

The First Rule

Rule number 1: Never hike alone in unfamiliar territory. Rule number 2: Always tell someone where you’re going and when you’ll be back.

But just because you hear great advice repeated over and over doesn’t mean you always take it. And so there I was in the middle of nowhere, frustrated, hungry, and unable to track my direction. I’d foolishly depended on my cellphone to use as a compass and the battery had died in the first hour I was lost.

The sun was brutally hot, even though I estimated it to be about six o’clock, and I was sweating profusely. Being a Florida native who’d grown up hiking trails and swimming in lakes, home to alligators and deadly moccasins, I didn’t believe in bogging myself down with gear for a simple short hike. I had my canteen and a small pouch with a very limited first aid kit, bug spray, a container of waterproof matches, and an emergency blanket. Back in my vehicle parked at the trailhead was my backpack full of food, extra water, a snakebite kit, and other provisions.

Only I had no idea where that car was. And the sun would be setting in a few hours.

So this was it. I’d have to spend the night alone in the Florida wilderness. And I was terrified. Now my grandmother always used to say that trees never hurt anyone. But this part of the Florida wild was home to a lot more than Cypress trees. Try venomous snakes and wild hogs. And dangerous predators like bears, bobcats, and even panthers.

And all I had between me and the elements and roaming predators was an emergency blanket.

I started searching for a place to set up for the night. I found a spot between two trees close enough to tie up the blanket to create a tent-shaped shelter. I quickly gathered from palm fronds and leaves together to make a small barrier on one side. It wouldn’t protect me from anything lurking out there in the woods, but it would provide some comfort.

After that I had nothing to do but sit and wait for the sun to sink and crawl into my temporary home once it did. The night felt so long, that I thought I was old enough to join the AARP.

A Long Night

I’ve never had a more terrifying night. The woods came alive with the sounds of the wildlife that calls it home. I huddled down and listened intently, unable to move from fear that I’d awaken a predator to my location.

Every shuffle of leaves was a venomous snake slithering into my sleeping area ready to bite and inject me with a neurotoxin that would have been writhing in pain and dead before anyone could ever find me.

Suddenly I heard a loud snap! crunch! as something heavy moved through the woods trampling over twigs and leaves. I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t see in the pitch black and whatever it was, I knew if I got up and ran it would be able catch me if it wanted to.

As whatever it was made its way slowly closer to where I lay sweating now under my flimsy emergency blanket I wonder what it might be. Big cat? Bear?  I’d heard stories of campers being snatched out of tents by Grizzlies out West and lay there, my pulse racing, wondering if black bears had the same instincts.

Planning My Own imagined burial with flowers and crying relatives.

Could it smell me I wondered? If so, then it would be able to find me easily. And I was completely defenseless. My buck knife was also back in the car at the trailhead.  I had a small pocket knife, but whatever it was sounded huge moving through the scrub.

As I lay shivering in my flimsy makeshift shelter all I kept was how idiotic I’d been to get myself into this situation in the first place. Had I told a friend or family member where I was going, there would be a search party out for me by now. The five mile trail should have taken me an hour and a half at most.

And what if I didn’t make it back home at all? My wife and I were still young. We didn’t have any children. And we’d never even considered insurance to cover by poor dying body or even insurance to cover that flower covered funeral yet. What if they found my body tomorrow or next week mauled by a predator or killed from exposure or dehydration? How would she even be able to continue on financially?

These might seem like odd thoughts to have at the moment that you’re wondering if a panther or bear is about to eat you. But my wife and I had always promised to protect and support each other. And what bothered me most at that moment was the fact that I was letting her down, leaving her with a mess to clean up.

I never did find out what had been stalking through the night out there. And honestly, I’m glad I don’t know. The next morning I was able to determine more precisely which way was east and after three hours of walking found my way back to a part of the preserve I was familiar with.

I was safe at last, but keenly aware of how lucky I’d been. I firmly resolved to never again venture into the wild without the proper preparation or protection.