by Jan Gangsei
“I’m so proud of you, Paulie,” he said. “Your first time hiking on your own in the woods!” I swear he sniffled a little.
“Paulie,” Jack chortled under his breath.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dad,” I said, cheeks burning. I hurried out of there before Jack could give me any more grief.
The trail led us around the lake, past other vacant camping areas, then veered up a wide rutted slope that looked like it had been well traveled by 4x4s. The map was pretty easy to follow, and we forked onto a skinny muddy trail after about a mile. We didn’t talk much because the trail was steep and narrow for the most part, so we had to walk single file. There were yellow markers every couple of hundred yards that the map said led all the way to the falls, and occasional color-coded signs leading off in other directions.
As the mist cleared, we stopped to rest on a plateau. The lake seemed a long way back already—it looked pristine and sparkling in the early light. I couldn’t see the dads, but I thought I could make out some distant singing carried on the breeze. Or maybe it was just an animal dying someplace.
I checked the map again, then scanned the mountain ranges to the south. We had a long way to go—nearly five miles, by my estimate. But once we got up to the red-track level, it would be pretty flat.
We started off again, and I picked up the pace, only to have Hector come to a dead stop right in front of me.
“Hold on,” he said, and kneeled on the ground, scooping pieces of dung into a baggie. “Deer!” he announced triumphantly, as if he’d just discovered gold. I waited for the inevitable commentary from Jack, but it didn’t come. I glanced back.
No Jack.
“Jack?” I said.
No answer.
“Jack?” I said a little louder, my voice beginning to shake. How long had he been missing?
The thoughts started to tumble through my mind. What if he’d tripped and banged his head? What if he’d had some sort of shock reaction to the stinging nettle? What if the Beast—
Thwack! Something hit the back of my neck and slid down my shirt. I reached up and wiped away a handful of dirt and worms. “Gross!”
A devious laugh came from above my head. I glanced up to see Jack, perched in the branches, holding a slingshot.
“Gotcha!” Jack said.
“Ha. Ha,” I said flatly.
Jack leapt from the tree. “You should have seen your face. Jack, Jack—where are you?” He cackled again. “And a darn good shot, if I do say so myself.”
I snatched the slingshot from his hands.
“It was okay,” I said with a smirk. “But I can do better.”
I loaded the slingshot with a rock, aimed at a distant tree, and pointed. “Lower branch, left side,” I said, releasing the sling. The rock sailed beautifully through the air and hit my target dead on, ricocheting off the branch and falling to the ground with a satisfying thump.
I lifted my hands in the air. “He shoots, he scores!”
“Not bad,” Jack said with a nod. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Pooper Scooper.”
Hector picked up an acorn and shot it—straight at Jack’s foot.
“Hey!” Jack said, jumping back. “What was that for?”
“Oops, my bad,” Hector said. His next shot pinged against a tree trunk. We passed the slingshot around a few more times, until I handed it back to Jack.
“That was cool,” I said. “But we’d better start moving again. We’ve still got, like, five miles to go.”
We hadn’t made it fifty yards when Hector came to another sudden stop.
“Oh man, Pooper Scooper,” Jack said. “Don’t you have enough stinky dung for your collection?”
Hector held his finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he said in a loud whisper. “That’s not it. I heard something.”
“Your Mommy calling?” Jack said. “Hector, Hector! Please come home, my baby, it’s naptime!”
“No,” Hector said. “It came from back there. And it sounded like a growl.” He pointed into the trees and shivered.
We all stood silently and listened to the sounds of the forest—leaves rustling, animals scampering, birds chirping. But there was nothing there.
Not that we could see at least.
Not yet.
WILDERNESS SURVIVAL TIP #12
REMEMBER—WHEN HIKING IN THE WILD, YOU ARE A GUEST IN THE HOME OF THE ANIMALS WHO LIVE THERE. RESPECT THEIR HOME JUST AS YOU WOULD EXPECT THEM TO RESPECT YOURS.
THE PATH FORGED OFF INTO the forest. There were still markers occasionally, but the trail didn’t seem well used, and it was overgrown in places. I guessed it was because of the ranger’s warning about the trail being unsuitable. As we hiked deeper into the trees, Jack cracked a branch and swung it like a sword, shouting “All for one, and one for all!” while battling imaginary foes. After a half hour of rattling his sword against the leaves, he ran directly in front of me and spun around, holding the tip to my nose.
“I challenge you, peasant,” he said, “to a duel!”
I rolled my eyes and pushed the branch away. “No time for that,” I said, consulting the map again. “We’re not even halfway there.”
“Sir Hector?” Jack said.
Hector just looked at him.
Jack slashed at the air a few times, groaned, and dropped his sword. “You guys are so lame,” he said. “Can’t we have a little fun?”
“Sure. We’ll have plenty of fun when we get to Bear Falls,” I said.
“But it’s taking soooooo long,” Jack said. He snatched the map from my hands. “Let me have a look at that thing. Maybe I can find a shortcut.”
“A shortcut,” Hector said. “Not a good idea. You lose the trail out here, you might never find it again.”
“Coward,” muttered Jack. “Where’s your adventurer’s spirit?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ve already studied the route. The only way to the falls is down this trail and over that bridge.” I took the map back—and looked down at it in disgust. There were brown smudges all over it.
“Hey!” I said. “What’s this? I can barely read it anymore!”
“Eww,” Hector said.
“I don’t know,” Jack said, shrugging. “Maybe you got it muddy.”
“I didn’t get it muddy.” I sniffed the page. “Besides, that’s not mud. That’s chocolate.”
“Hold on, you brought candy and didn’t tell us?” Hector said.
“Oh well, hey,” Jack answered. “We need to get moving, right? Got to make it to the falls and back by nightfall!” He started down the path. I picked up his tree-branch sword and ran in front of him, holding it to his chest.
“Not so fast, buddy,” I said. “Turn it over.”
“Yeah!” Hector said, dropping into a Karate Kid crouch. “Don’t make me hurt you!”
Jack put his hands in the air. “Hey, no harm, no foul,” he said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out three bags of M&Ms, handing one to me, one to Hector, and keeping one for himself. “Was just going to suggest we take a quick snack break!” He forced a wide smile.
“Good idea,” I said. We sat on a log. I tossed the map aside and popped a handful of M&Ms in my mouth. Hector emptied his bag into his hands and plucked out all the red ones.
“Here,” he said, holding out his palm. “You guys can have these. I’m allergic.”
Jack looked at him in disbelief, but took the candy. Hector pulled out his magnifying glass.
“Interesting,” he said, leaning over and inspecting a small pellet on the ground. “I’m not quite sure what species this is from.”
“Maybe one of your ancestors?” Jack sniggered.
Hector ignored him and reached for his guidebook. But Jack got there first, grabbed it, and started reading.
“Yep,” he said, looking between Hector and the dung. “Just as I suspected. That particular specimen appears to come from the Lopezian squirrel, a breed known primarily for its twitchy nature and extremely smelly gas.”
Hector reached
for the book. “Give me that!”
“Nope!” Jack jumped to his feet and waved the book over his head, just out of Hector’s reach. Hector leapt in the air, narrowly missing it with every swipe of his hand.
“Almost!” Jack said, swinging the book away. Hector jumped. “Nope, not quite! But you’re getting closer!” Hector was starting to look real angry, and he wasn’t giving up.
“Give me my book, you big oaf!” Hector said. He lunged at Jack, knocking him flat on his back. Jack immediately rolled on top of him, pinning his bony legs and arms.
“You really think you can mess with me, Pooper Scooper?” he said. “I don’t care if you’re a black belt in Geek Kune Do. I could destroy you with both eyes shut!”
Hector pedaled his hands and feet in the air, trying to squirm out from under Jack’s grip. “You might think you have me now,” Hector puffed out. “But I am highly trained. . . .”
I reached down and pulled Jack’s shirt collar. Hard. He coughed and stood up. Hector popped to his feet and raised his hands.
“Enough!” I grabbed the guidebook and dropped it in my backpack, and positioned myself between Jack and Hector. “We are never going to get anywhere if you two keep fighting!”
“It was all his fault!” Hector said, pointing around me at Jack.
“Nuh-uh,” Jack retorted. “I can’t help it if he’s a giant nerd.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Stop! It!” I shouted. “Truce, okay?”
Jack and Hector’s mouths clamped shut and they looked at me. Well, that was more like it. Then I realized they weren’t looking at me—they were looking at something behind me.
I spun around to see a gray-and-white raccoon sitting on a log. It stared at us with its masked eyes. And in its little black paws it held our map. It was nibbling on the edge.
“Careful!” Hector said. “It could be rabid. Raccoons don’t usually come out during the day, you know. . . .”
Jack was reaching for the slingshot.
“Don’t you dare,” I whispered.
“It’s got the map,” hissed Jack. “Without that we’re toast!”
“Here, little raccoon,” I said, hand outstretched. “You don’t want to eat that.”
The raccoon blinked and took another nibble.
I saw Jack’s arm stretching back the rubber bands on the slingshot.
“Don’t startle it,” I said.
“I’m not going to startle it,” said Jack. “I’m going to make it wish it was never born.”
And before I could stop him, he fired. A scattering of red M&Ms shot through the air, all missing the raccoon.
It turned, seemed to give a little grin, then scampered off into the woods, our only directions out of this place clenched tightly in its mouth.
WILDERNESS SURVIVAL TIP #13
ALWAYS STAY ON THE DESIGNATED TRAILS AND PATHS. IF YOU DO BECOME LOST, DO NOT GO FARTHER INTO THE WOODS. STAY WHERE YOU ARE AND WAIT FOR HELP.
“GET HIM!” I YELLED. WE bolted after the raccoon. For something with such short legs, the little critter sure was fast. It zipped between trees, leapt over bushes, and dodged through the underbrush, leading us deeper into the woods—and farther from the trail.
“You just had to get your stupid chocolate fingerprints all over that thing!” I shouted at Jack as we ran. He huffed and puffed behind me.
“I.” Puff. “Wasn’t.” Huff. “The one.” Puff, puff. “Who left it on the log!” he said.
The raccoon scurried down a hill, around a tree—and disappeared. I stopped, catching my breath, and glanced left and right.
“I can’t believe this,” I said, looking around the forest. No raccoon—or path—anywhere in sight. “It’s gone. And we’re . . . lost.”
“No we’re not,” said Jack. He ran to the base of a tree, stooped, and picked up the map. “Little critter dropped it.”
Thank goodness!
But my hopes were dashed when I got a good look at the shredded paper covered in bite marks, raccoon spit, and remnants of chocolate. A whole section was missing from the middle. Sadly, it included the trail we’d been on.
“Think again,” I said.
“Let me have a look,” Hector said. He took the map, face dropping. “Oh, never mind.” He stuck the map in his pocket.
“No biggie,” said Jack. “Let’s just go back the way we came.”
I turned a full 360. “Which was?”
“That way,” said Jack, pointing like it was obvious.
“I’m really not sure it was,” said Hector. “That’s sort of southwest.”
“Fine,” Jack said. “Didn’t you leave a trail of poop for us to follow?”
“Hector’s right,” I said. “I have no idea which way leads back. Our best bet is to move forward.” I nodded through the trees. “I say we keep up the slope. We’ll hit the path again soon. Find a marker. Besides, you have your phones, right? We can call for help if we get really lost.”
“What’s wrong with calling now?” Hector said.
“And give up on our search for the Beast?” I said. “No way.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” mumbled Hector. “You heard what the ranger said about the bridge being unstable.”
“Don’t be a wimp,” Jack said. “They always err on the side of caution because they don’t want to get sued. The bridge will be fine.” He started marching straight ahead, his big feet crushing the underbrush and arms pumping. He started to sing in cadence. “I don’t know what I’ve been told! That hairy Beast is getting old!”
I pumped my arms and began marching too. “I don’t know what I’ve been told!” I said. “That big Beast’s breath smells just like mold!”
Hector cleared his throat. “I don’t know what I’ve been told!” he sang out. He paused and sneezed. “Uh . . . we’re gonna give that Beast a cold!”
We ran out of chants pretty quick. I kept the mountain peak dead ahead, but after marching for another hour or so, we were no closer to a trail or any sign of civilization. Even the mountain still looked like it was miles away. Not to mention, I couldn’t ignore the call of nature anymore.
“Hey, guys,” I said, slowing. “Need a quick stop to, uh, relieve myself.”
“No need to shout about it,” said Jack. “Number one or number two?”
“Two,” I said, blushing.
“Watch out for the leaves!” said Hector, as I dodged out of sight behind a tree.
“Watch out for Hector,” said Jack. “He’ll want a sample.”
I tried to block them out as I did my business. There were plenty of leaves all around, but I admit I’m no expert. I fished around in my bag, just in case there were some tissues lurking in the bottom. No luck. I was about to give in and use some foliage, when my eyes fell on Hector’s guidebook. Now, don’t get me wrong. I respect books, I really do. But in that moment, it just seemed like a better option. Plus, I didn’t want to go the way of Jack.
So I yanked loose a couple of pages that were about to fall out anyway. Okay, so a librarian would have been horrified, but Hector didn’t really need to know about California reptiles, did he?
I took care of things and went back to where Hector was standing alone, checking out bird droppings on a low branch. Jack was already a hundred feet farther into the woods, running and tagging trees with his hands.
“Hey!” I yelled in the direction of his retreating back. “Hold up!”
Jack stopped and spun around. “Give me a break. If I waited all day for you two, we’d never get anywhere!”
Hector and I jogged to catch up with him. “Seriously,” I said. “It’s not safe to walk off by yourself. We need to stick together.”
“Oh, whatever,” Jack answered. “I can take care of myself.”
The terrain grew rougher, and we had to climb over gnarled roots and ancient broken branches, and through thick underbrush. Not a sign of a trail or a marker anywhere. I climbed the slick mossy surface of a huge falle
n log with a leg up from Hector, then reached down and helped him up. The two of us hoisted Jack to our level, grunting.
“Hey, I’m not that heavy!” said Jack.
When we reached the top we stopped, panting. We were still surrounded by tall trees, the path nowhere in sight. I pulled out my water bottle and gave it a shake.
“Careful not to drink too much,” Hector said. “We don’t know how long it will take to get out of these woods.”
Jack leapt down to the forest floor. “Not long if you follow me!”
“Seriously, Jack,” I said. “Slow down. We should stick together.”
He ignored me. I allowed myself two small sips of water, then handed the bottle to Hector. We climbed down too and followed Jack’s path of devastation. We could hear his crashing several feet away.
“Jack!” I called. “Wait up.”
“No way!” came the reply. “We’ll never get there if—aaaaaaaaagh! ” His words became a scream. The next moment Jack came sprinting back toward us, hands over his head and eyes wide. The scream became a word again.
And the word was “BEAR!”
I wailed. Hector farted. In a flash, we dropped our backpacks and raced after Jack. He’d thrown himself up onto a branch, and was scaling the tree like a monkey. I don’t think I’ve ever climbed so fast in my life. I ripped my shirt, and grazed all my knuckles, and stopped in the crook of the trunk about five feet off the ground. We huddled together, leaves shaking, and peered down below.
“It can’t get us up here, can it?” Jack said breathlessly, eyes darting around.
“I don’t know.” My voice was hoarse. “Do bears climb trees?”
“Depends,” Hector answered. “Black bears can, but grizzlies can’t . . . or is it the other way around? I’m not sure. What did the bear look like?”
Jack breathed heavily. “Big and furry,” he said. “And kinda like this . . .” He raised his hands in the air and let out a giant “Roarrrrrrrr!”