Hikers Only, III

Monday, January 27, 2014

The sun had set.
Dusk had risen.
Darkness was on the horizon.

I stood on the side of the mountain having lost the trail, feeling so very stupid. Carol, how could you be so dumb?!?

With my iPhone, I had called the Ranger Station to inform them I had lost the trail. I called three times. No answer.

Dang it. I need to call 911. After I get hold of someone, I'll text Hubby and let him know. The power on my smart phone read "22%."

On my iPhone screen, I tap "911" and tap "Call." A female voice comes into my right ear through my Bluetooth earpiece, "911. What's your emergency?"

I respond, "Hi. I've lost a trail on the south side of Pilot Mountain."

"Okay. Are you in any danger?"

"No, not in any danger. I have water and proper clothes and my head lamp. I called the Ranger Station, but there was no answer. My cell phone has 22% power left."

"Do you know if you are on the Surry or Yadkin County side of the Park?"

"No, I don't know. I was on Mountain Trail which comes out at the road where the parking lot is for horses."

"Okay. We'll get you out. I'm trying to get a lock on your phone. I'm going to call Surry County since we're not yet sure which county you are in. I'll keep you on the line while I call."

While the female operator is getting in touch with Surry County, I try to access my text ability on my phone to send Hubby a message. Usually I can access it while on a phone call. But, on the 911 call, I can access nothing except 911.

"Hello, mam?" the female voice is back. "I have Surry County on the phone with us now."

"Hi Miss Welch. What trail were you on?" the man from Surry County inquires.

"I was on Mountain Trail. It's not in the main park at Pilot Mountain. It goes down to the parking lot where horses are unloaded."

"Hmm. Are you near Canal Trail?"

"No, not that I know of. I've never heard of Canal Trail."

The male operator and I speak for a moment about my possible location. His name is Mike.

"Okay we have a lock on her phone," the female operator from Yadkin County chimes in. "You are in Surry County Miss Welch, so Mike will take it from here. Good luck!"

"Thank you!" I reply.

"Okay, I have you on my radar, and I see where you are. Do you have a compass?" Mike asks.

"No. Only on my iPhone, but I can't access anything except the 911 call."

"Do you know which direction is south?"

"Yes; I'm pretty sure."

"Okay. Head south."

"Yes sir. Will do."

Mike is kind as we chat on the phone and I share with him how stupid I feel, that I've hiked this trail around fifteen times. He responds that it can happen to the best of hikers reassuring me not to feel embarrassed. But I still feel embarrassed.

"Is there a way you can call my husband and let him know you have me on my cell?"

"Absolutely. What's his name and number?"

I give Mike Hubby's name and cell phone number. I hear Mike speak with someone else in the communication room. The someone else calls Hubby.

"Okay, we got in touch with your husband. He's on his way from Statesville to Winston. I let him know we'll update him and that you are in good hands and that we are going to get you through the woods."

"Thanks."

"Now, as you head south you are going to come up on a wide open area," Mike directs me.

"Okay, I'm not there yet. My power is down to 18%."

"No problem. We are going to get you out of there before you run out of power. I'm trying to get another lock on your phone."

We chat as I hike through the darkness and layers of leaves. While my headlamp illuminates the forest trees, I look for any of the red dots that mark the trail. How can there be no red dots? I'm still in wonderment that I lost the trail.

Mike is cordial as we talk about hiking and the woods. He is keeping me company. I feel I'm in good hands. I don't have any fear really; I know that I'm not that far from the road. I'm also keenly aware how easy it is for a hiker to lose her bearings and end up going in circles, especially in the dark.

After another fifteen minutes Mike gets a lock on my location.

"Okay, I have a lock on your phone again. You are headed in the exact direction I want you to go. Good job! You aren't too far from the open field. Just keep going south."

After a couple more minutes, I spy the field.

"I see it!" letting Mike know. "I know this field. The trail is to the east over the big mounds of dirt. But I'll not try to find it, I'll keep heading south."

I am tempted to hike over the humps to find the trail; I'm still embarrassed that I lost the trail and I know it's just on the other side of the humps. I abandon the temptation quickly. Plus, I wonder if there might be rusty barbed wire hiding in the hump-brush that may surprise my shin. My headlamp can't pick up everything in sight though my trekking poles would probably hit any wire before my shin would hit. I stick with my southbound, unmarked route with Mike as my guide.

I walk out of the field and into some thick brush. I move my head up and down scanning my headlamp over the ground and the space in front of my body.

"My phone is at 10% now," I inform Mike.

"We got you," Mike responds. "We'll get you out before you lose power," he reassures me again. "You are going to come up on another big wide open area in a few minutes. It's a bigger field that the previous one."

"Okay." We continue to chat as I head south for another ten minutes.

"I see it!" I approach the next field and come upon a large steel gate with wires three tiers high behind the gate and continuing around the field attached to posts. I inform Mike, "It's gated and has an electric fence that looks well maintained. The fence is three wires high. I can't get over it without risking touching the electric fence."

"Okay. Turn to the right. Stay as close to the fence as you can. You are going to come up on a house. We have been calling the house to let them know a hiker is approaching from the woods, but we've not been able to get an answer."

"Will do. I don't want anyone coming out with a shot gun." I stop momentarily to retrieve my whistle from my hip pack. My black referee whistle hangs on a thick red-twine necklace. I place the necklace over my head and around my neck.

"Do you have pepper spray?" Mike asks.

"No," I reply. "I left it in the car."

The dark house comes into view. There are no lights on.

"I see the house! Uh-oh, I see two animal eyes. I hope it's not a dog."

There is no barking, so I think it's probably a cat. But I won't know until I'm closer to the house.

"Be careful," Mike responds. "I'm right here and you aren't far from the road. Stay as far away as you can from the house."

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Click below for Part I,Part II, and Part IV:
Hikers Only, I
Hikers Only, II
Hikers Only, IV
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