Lost and Found

Inviting me to step off the road or parking lot and into the adventure of new sights and new sounds, to walk alone with my own thoughts or together with like-minded companions, to see that packed dirt, bordered by trees and wildflowers, unwinding before me – I can’t resist a new trail.  

Can't you hear it calling me?

Way back in late May, Dad dropped Melanie and me at a river trail from which (according to the map) we could walk back to our Williams Lake, BC campground.  Wandering happily, the sun beaming down summer hot, we laughed like our long-gone little girl selves as we dipped our feet in a rippling stream.  Our spirits dampened a bit when the trail crossed a messy construction zone, but chatting along our route, we barely noticed the path changing from a double-track bordered by the river and a low hillside to a single track closely hemmed by knapweed and grasses.   Checking Google maps on Mel’s quickly off-powering phone, the trail seemed to be veering a bit to the east of our intended route, but having overlooked the terrain from a vantage point early that morning, I could clearly see our destination some ways ahead of us.  Sadly, neither of us could see the trail that had been at our feet – in fact, behind us, those beautiful waving grasses had nearly hidden every trace of our passage, and showed no path before us.  Not to worry! A certain amount of bushwhacking and a short scramble up a gravel hillside got us safely onto . . . train tracks.  

Sisters at Williams Lake River trail

And that beautiful bridge would lead us right over the river – assuming no trains took precedence over our pedestrian way. As Melanie says, “We didn’t get lost, not one bit,” and we arrived back at the campground more than ready for cocktail hour! (By the way, Williams Lake is one of the towns that was evacuated this summer due to wild fires).

Did you know there are APPS for that???  It’s true! I have discovered a wonderful app – All Trails – that locates trails in my area (rated by difficulty), directs me to the trail heads, and can even track my hike as I go.  Of course, that tracking business takes a cell connection and DATA, and I admit to a miserly attitude toward both.  But as long as I have cell service, the GPS on my phone locates me and tells me where I am, and helps me decide what turns to take to get where I am going and back to my car.  In fact, in Talkeetna, AK, I walked around a beautiful little lake thanks to All Trails and really did not get lost, not one bit.  All Trails also found a beautiful park close to our campground in Anchorage; the dark woods were a mosquito haven, but the trail offered beautiful vistas for only moderate climbs.  



 

THIS is the EASY trail????

When All Trails identified an easy trail up Bodenburg Butte near our campground in Palmer, AK, I excitedly suggested a girls’ outing, and Madeline and Elaine were delighted to accept.  Madeline drove, and although we did zoom past the first turn to Bodenburg Loop Road, it’s a loop, so we just took the next turn, and All Trails accommodatingly directed us to the trail head, clearly marked by a parking lot, a faded sign board, and a little fee box.  Previous hikers who had commented on All Trails warned that the local hiking club opportunely tow the cars of those who did not pay the fee.  Madeline did question, since there were no forms or envelopes, how anyone would ever monitor those payments, but we dutifully stuffed our cash into the rusted slot on the cobweb-covered box before we trudged over to the trail.  “Now, the reviews said there are a lot of STEPS,” so this first bit may be a bit challenging,” I warned.  “We can turn around if it’s too much.”  We looked dubiously at the steep, sandy ascent, thinking some steps would make for an easier climb, but we kept trudging up without encountering those steps.  The rocky, dry trail cut steadily up the bare butte. We stopped often to catch . . . the view . . . and I continued to remind them that we did not have to go to the top.  Then, two women running down the trail assured us that we were almost to the fence and that the trail was quite easy after that, so we trudged on, but we never did find a fence . . . in fact, we never found those steps.  We found rocks over which we scrambled, and we eventually found a breathtaking view of the Matanuska Valley – we could even see the glaciers below us glinting baby blue in the brilliant summer sun. 

We made it to the top!

And then, Madeline declared,  “Well, we need to find another way down because I am not going to go down that sandy, steep hill.”  Those of you who knew my mother know that I had learned at a very young age not to mess with that tone of voice. Luckily, on the way up we had crossed a trail that seemed much more reasonable – In fact, I bet we had somehow missed a turn and had not even been on the main trail -- an easy  mistake on a rocky slope!  So, we took the correct trail down from the top.  And there, we found the steps.  They made much easier work of the descent, and the route back to the trail head was much cooler – the wind blew through the trees along the path, blowing most of the mosquitos off and keeping us relatively cool and comfortable. But I kept wondering where we had missed this lovely branch of the trail, when we would reconnect with the trail we had started on, and what we were going to do about that first steep and sandy slope.  I was still wondering when a shiny, freshly painted sign welcomed us to the Bodenburg Butte trail and reminded us to support trail maintenance by filling out the donation envelope and posting it to the shiny red box attached to the sign. 

“Did you come down the wrong side of the butte?” A man across the street smiled knowingly as we stood at the side of the road trying to reconcile this trail head with our expectations. 

Oh. 

He smiled and didn’t seem at all surprised.  “You can get back where you parked by following this road – it’s about two and a half miles.  You’re not the first ones to come out the wrong side.  Just the first today.”

Oh. 

Carmacks and the Yukon River
from some ridge, but no
trail!

I can’t report that was the last time I got a little bit lost.  I might have hiked the Carmacks Ridge Trail, but I am not sure it was supposed to end at the electrical sub-station overlooking the tiny town. 

And although Madeline, Roger, Dad and I started out to hike the “easy” Brown Trail in Whitehorse, I am pretty sure the intended trail included neither several jaunts up and down the same sandy vertical slope nor a butt slide into a gravel pit.   

Trail behind Robert Service's
cabin in Dawson City

I can, however, report the joy of venturing out most mornings to go where I will, to take as long as I want, and to see whatever I see, and yes, to find my way back with or without a trail laid out before me, my feet slapping the beaten earth in an arhythmical cadence of freedom, peace, and happiness.