So this is the full story of my unfortunate adventure today:

Before I headed out, I did my usual assessment of how long my run today should be. I added up all the miles I had run this week, found that I was short by about 13 miles of my goal, so I figured a nice 13-mile run would do it.

Jogging my memory, I found none of the numerous 13-mile trail options attractive, so I decided I'd do a loop which would include some new trails. I was aware that these might be some of the more hidden trails, but that did not scare me. I'm very good at finding even faint paths, and if it gets too tricky, I just track back. Worked every time.

When putting together my gear, DH announced that he would take the opportunity and go for a hike while I was running, so I did not pack any unnecessary gear. Just a handheld water bottle, some tissues, and some TP just in case. That should do for a meager 13-mile run at moderate temperatures. Quick weather check, no rain for the next two days - yay!

We headed out, I said goodbye to DH, and started off on the gravel road. About 2.5 miles in, I saw the turnoff, marked with a cute little sign, and took the steeply ascending trail up. It was indeed very narrow and not marked (which is not unusual in my area), but a recognizable trail.

Up I went, and, just as the map had said, it turned steeper as I went along. Some brush and overgrowing thicket appeared, but not all that bad. I kept working my way up, stubbornly adhering to the notion that if there was a trail on the map, of course there was a trail in the woods. I could not have been more wrong.

After a while, the overgrowing brush turned into prickly, thorny thickets. No problem, I just picked up the twigs and pushed them out of the way, and kept going. In between, there were fern groves with almost no pricker bushes, but then again, I hit the thicket, and things got tougher. I just kept following this barely recognizeable trail, straight up the mountain, just as the map had shown.

The prickers became more dense, 6-foot high blackberry and raspberry bushes in between prickly and dangerously thorny small bushes and trees (those thorns could be up to an inch long and very strong). Prickers below my feet, around my ankles, shins and calves, knees, thighs, body, arms, in my face, and on my head, pulling off my cap every now and then. I had to duck under bushes to make my way further up, climb over logs, and through more and more thorny thickets.

At times, the path would split up into several branches, and it was hard to decide which one to follow. Meanwhile, I was pretty convinced I was on a deer path, not a trail. If a deer could even go through such thicket. Sometimes, I would follow one side branch, just to get stuck in a wall of thorny brush, having to turn back and try another option.

All in all, it was not very confusing, as it was just straight up the mountain, but the "trail" had turned into something different, I don't know what.

After a while of painful bushwhacking and snagging up my new shirt and favorite shorts, I hit a "ledge". It was some kind of abandoned fire road, or bulldozer tracks. End of trail.

Hey, this trail was supposed to connect to the well-marked ridge trail, I had seen the turnoff there many times - where did it continue?

As I could not find where the trail continued, I decided to backtrack and go down to the road again, where I had turned off onto the "trail". It would be a road run then, maybe loop back on the ridge trail on top of the mountain, and then take the trail back to the lake, where the car was parked, and DH waiting.

First, I could not find where I had come up. There was a fern grove below the "ledge", and I could not clearly recognize any kind of path or trail where I had come up. Bummer. There were a couple deer paths, but they would end up in a wall of thorny thicket quickly. Dang.

So eventually, I decided to follow those deer paths down, through the thickets, despite getting even more scratched up. If I had come up there, I would get down, right?

Wrong.

Don't underestimate the power of prickers and thorns everywhere, combined with a steep incline, giant rocks, logs and everything overgrown, so that you can't see where you are putting your feet. While going down may be faster and seem easier, going up, though more cumbersome, actually IS easier to do. I almost fell twice, almost got my foot lodged underneath a huge rock, but lucked out each time, getting just a bit more scratched up, but not seriously injured.

OK, no way getting down back to the road, that's what I found out after about 1/3 of the way. So I turned around and set my mind on getting up to that ledge again. After all, that would be a safe spot, and I knew it was not far from the ridge, so if I set all my focus onto getting further up from there, I could probably do it.

Probably does not say it will happen.

On my way up to the ledge again, I was not sure where to go, there were so many teeny-tiny deer paths, each ending in prickerbushes soon. I was afraid I would not find any way up to that ledge again.

Eventually, after a lot of trying and erring, I made it up all the way to the ledge again. Phew. Safe at least.

I tried walking along the abandoned fire road both ways, but got stuck in prickerbushes and thicket after just a few hundred feet either direction. No intersection with the trail leading up or down on a safe path, just a few deer paths, which - you get the idea by now - ended in prickerbushes soon.

I even climbed over some fallen trees, which was not easy, considering there were prickers around everywhere, and I was not sure once I had jumped down on the other side that I could get back up again, but I tried anyway. To no avail. I could get back up again, but I still had not found a way out. Complete failure. Darn, was I dumb.

So I tried a few of the small paths leading further up, only to discover that each of them ended in a wall of thicket, no matter where I tried, and how far I tried to get around the prickerbushes. Finding my way back down was a challenge, and I am not sure how I did it, but eventually, I found back to the ledge again.

So maybe try down to the road again? No way, my legs were almost raw by now, and I had already tried, tried hard, and failed.

Stuck.

I was about to panic, I cried, out of anger and frustration, how could I let that happen? Why did I not even pack a phone (would not have worked there, but anyway), a mini light, a whistle? That's what I advise every trail runner to do, just I don't seem to be able to stick to it. How stupid.

At least, I would use the TP at some point later, I figured...

I sat down on a large rock to regroup, which was nice and warm, and I thought that in the evening, this one would keep me warm for some time. No rain in the forecast, and temps not too low in the night, so I could survive a day or two, if needed. Unless a bear crossed my path?

I started to wonder how anyone would find me in this wilderness, miles, covered with prickers and thickets, from a road or more frequented trail each way. And how, after the search and rescue had found me, they would get me out from there. Airlift?

The $$ started adding up before my eyes, and I realized I do not have any kind of insurance that would cover that. Now I would not only be dead, I'd be bankrupt as well. Great.

My kids would come home from school, finding dad panicking because he would have to call off work and would not know where I was, a search and rescue mission would start, and I would be a media hero for a day or two. A pretty stupid looking kind of hero - who can possibly get lost in the middle of a well-marked, popular trail system in the middle of Pennsylvania? - you get the idea. That was really the last thing I wanted.

I recovered after a while, and started trudging and pacing that abandoned fire road again, trying to find a way out. But I was sure I would not leave this safe spot (pricker-free for some square feet at least, with a warm, comfy rock, and clearly visible from above, in case DH sent out a helicopter for search and rescue), unless I had found an acceptable trail.

And as I was wandering around, a miracle happened:

I found a path leading up, which looked much wider and more frequented than the deer paths. I decided to give it a shot, after all, it was my only option left for getting out of there, and it looked wide enough that I would be able to backtrack in case it did not work. It only was pretty steep up.

Some prickers here and there, but much, much better than all the other paths I had tried before. At some point, it seemed to turn into a dried creek bed, then into a ravine, but it always was recognizeably a path.

After some hard work, some more scratching, and a couple hundred vertical feet up, I finally reached the ridge trail. Hallelujah!

Only decision left was whether to follow the ridge trail to the east, where it would eventually end and merge into a path that led down the mountain, back to the road where I had started, at about 1.5 miles from the car (but I had never run or hiked that trail down the mountain), back to car about 6 miles, or take the long way home, running to the west, eventually connecting to some other road which would merge into the road where I had started on, at about 5.5 miles from the car (back to car about 9 miles).

I decided to take the safe option, I did not want to end up in that same situation again which I had just escaped from.

I ran fast, because I wanted to reach the intersection where the two roads merged quickly, before DH would get there in case he was looking for me.

Long story short, it was a pretty long run back. When I passed the turnoff of the trail with the cute sign, where it all had started, I just shook my head. About 1.5 miles from the lake, DH came driving up in the car, and I got in, and home we went.

DH got to work on time, and when the kids came home from school, I was there for them, all scratched up, but alive and well.

This adventure could have gone pretty wrong, and I am very happy that I could finish it essentially unharmed, and a little bit smarter (hopefully).

Wow... golly gosh and sure am glad you got out, down, back, whatever, safely.

You write very well--fun (sort of) to read--thank you.

So how many miles total and how long did it take you ?

Glad you made it out alive. I can't comprehend forests as thick as you must have them back east.

Rough.

Wow....so glad u got out OK. Despite getting lost it sounds like u kept a cool head about u and u have a good sense of direction. I am pretty sure I would have disintegrated into a panicky mess and years later someone would ave found a couple of my bones.

Do you run with a Garmin?  Even my old 205 has a very rudimentary map that you could re-trace your steps with, not to mention a compass.

Super scary, Couch, and I'm glad you're okay!  I keep a mini light in every pack I own for this reason.  My headlamp has a built in whistle, too.

Those leg pics are nuts, Couch.  I think you're ready for the Barkley now.

Glad you made it out safe and sound, Couch!   A lesson to all of us to always be prepared.