As you all know, Chicky and I enjoy a little stroll in the mountains from time to time. Occasionally when we're out Christina will look at me and say, "Where the hell are we going" or "Do you even know where you are?". I always chuckle and say, "no worries, the car is back that direction, I know exactly where we're at!" I like to think of this as directional training for the event that someday you really get lost. Besides, how else are you gonna find new places if you don't venture off the beaten path. (might be a metaphor for life?) Anyways, our directional training was put to the test this past weekend on a little trail run in the mountains west of Sheridan. Moms/Dads/others - don't worry it all ended well, and nobody was ever in any real danger; I think.
I just posted this on my Sheridan Trail Runner facebook page.Well Saturday morning’s trail run turned into a little bit of an adventure. Kyle, Lynie, Andy and Christina were not too surprised; in-fact they were probably expecting it. It all started when we arrived at Tongue River TH to drop a vehicle and somebody (me) forgot running shoes back in Sheridan. Who does that? After speeding our way back to town, Andy, Christina and I loaded up in the Phipps suburban and headed to Burgess Jct.
The run started out well, we began our run heading east below Twin Buttes with the understanding that if the North Fork of the Tongue was flowing too high we’d turn around and run an alternate route. As could be expected, snowmelt had swollen the river crossing to a level that nobody felt comfortable crossing. Heading back the way we came, we met up with Dry Fork Rd and headed out for the alternate 13 mile loop. Everything seemed to be going smoothly; Kyle, Andy and I would run ahead and wait for the girls at any junctions in the trail to make sure they didn’t miss a turn. We left Dry Fork road on an abandoned two track after making sure everybody knew where we were going. After about 1.5 miles, and one trail junction where Andy laid out a nice arrow constructed of logs indicating the correct direction to take, we decided to wait for the girls to catch up. After a short time waiting, we decided to back track and see where the rest of the group was. We ran the 1.5 miles back to where we were last together, and didn’t see the girls. We decided they had to have taken a wrong turn. Not panicking, yet, we headed back down the two track; stopping at every muddy spot in the trail where eyes searched the ground for tiny girl running shoe tracks.
When we reached the arrowed turn without meeting up with the girls, Kyle and I decided they had to have not seen the ginormous arrow that Andy had placed in the trail. We determined to run up the trail, which turned out to be more of an over-grown elk path, to get to higher ground and a 4-wheeler road to see if we could spot our now “assumed” lost runners. Repeating the same tracking techniques used earlier, Kyle and I came across the tell-tale tracks of our female trail running counterparts. After reaching the 4-wheeler road, and talking to three ATV’ers who hadn’t seen our runners, we decided to complete the planned loop. If we didn’t cross the girls, we head back to the suburban and set out on the roads looking. At this point I started to panic slightly, and wonder if we’d have to get Search and Rescue involved. Kyle seemed cool about it, but running back towards the car with him, his pace told me he was starting to worry as well. I knew that Christina had a good sense of direction and could find her way to a road or help if needed. Heck she has to going on runs with me, but I was not totally convinced that all would end well.
We crested the last hill headed towards the suburban, and what should we see but two figures walking around the parking lot waiting for us. As relief washed over Kyle and me, we raced down a gopher-holed, ankle-twisting hill to make sure our companions were okay. After hugging my wife, she regaled me with the story of how Lynie and she had indeed missed the, apparently not-so-obvious, arrow in the trail and ran back to the suburban thinking we had kept going. We all laughed, but mostly sighed with relief, that the day ended without the need for a search party. Next time, we’re bringing two-way radios!!
Sounds like a good run, but definitely one you tell the moms about AFTER the fact. Jorge could never leave me alone, I get lost in my own neighborhood, so luckily Chicky takes after him!
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