We Get Lost
But it was the same rock, the same enormous boulder we saw before and climbed, I was sure of it, we were walking in circles
This is an excerpt from my book Motorcycle Stories - Finding Forgiveness on the open road. It takes place in November of 1966. I was nine when these events occurred, and my brother Randy was five. We had just moved to a very remote area in Quakertown, Pennsylvania. We were no strangers to the small mountain across the street from our farmhouse, having hiked the three-hour trail to the pipeline, down to the road, and back to our house many times. I became confident that I knew the area very well.
One day Randy and I decided to hike up the mountain. The sound of the stream we always followed was a constant companion as we walked towards the pipeline, the rustling of leaves and chirping of birds accompanying us on our journey.
“Let’s try something different today,” I said. “If we walk to the right, it’ll be a shortcut to the pipeline.”
Randy wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know,” he said.
“Come on. I’m bored with this same old way.”
I was overconfident about my abilities to navigate this wilderness. Rock Hill Mountain covered a large area. The name of the road on the other side of the mountain was Three Mile Run, simply because it was three miles away from its nearest road. We left the stream and walked toward the right. After we walked for about half an hour, an enormous boulder came into view, larger than any we had seen before. These boulders were left behind from the ice age, and as we did often with these boulders, we climbed to the top. We both laughed as we looked at the green forest around us.
We climbed down and continued walking for another thirty minutes. “When will we be at the pipeline?” Randy asked.
I tried to push the worry to the back of my mind, but it kept creeping back. “Soon,” I said.
I knew we should have been to the pipeline by now. I could see Randy was getting tired. We continued our trek. A distinct noise came from the distance.
“What’s that?” Randy said.
“Everything’s fine. It’s just an owl.”
Then… “Scott, that’s the same rock we saw an hour ago.”
“No, it’s not. Keep walking,” But it was the same rock, the same enormous boulder we saw before and climbed, I was sure of it. We were walking in circles.
Randy was sobbing now. “I’m cold, and it’s getting dark.”
“Come over here.” I knelt down and hugged my brother. “We’ll be out of here soon.”
By now, it was pitch dark. I had no idea when we’d get out of the woods. As the temperature dropped, panic rose within me.
Then, I saw the pipeline.
“Randy, there’s the pipeline! I know how to get home.”
As we walked down the pipeline, in the distance, I saw a flashlight. “Scott! Randy! Scott! Randy!”
“Here we are, Dad!” Randy yelled.
He came running over to us and put his jacket on Randy. “Thank God I found you.”
“You didn’t find us. As soon as we got to the pipeline, I knew where we were,” I said.
I was proud of the fact that I knew how to get home on my own once we found the pipeline. I was also mad at myself for changing from our normal route.
“Well, let’s go home. Your mother is worried sick.”
As we got near the house, I noticed a police car parked in the driveway.
Mom sat on the sofa, and upon seeing us, her face lit up, and her eyes widened. She jumped to her feet and gave both of us a hug. “Thank goodness, you boys are okay.”
The police officer smiled, “Looks like all is well here.”
“I found them on the pipeline,” Dad said.
“He didn’t find us,” I said again. “As soon as we got to the pipeline, I knew where we were.”
“Well, I’m just glad you’re okay. You’ve had enough adventure for one day.” Mom said.
She was right about that. We both went to bed and slept soundly. To this day, my father still believes he found us on that chilly night.
I hope you enjoyed reading We Get Lost. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.
You can read more about my book here and see links to other scenes as well. Also, please consider subscribing to my Substack. I tell unusual stories about growing up in a small town, the great outdoors, hiking, camping, and motorcycles.
Really enjoyed this, Scott. It reminds me of my own childhood. My brother and I used to spend a lot of time in the woods hiking and playing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything!
One of my favorite stories, Scott. Thanks so much for bringing it back. It takes me back to my own childhood , when all our playtime was out in nature and where we invented our own amusements. Lovely!