To the rescue!

Late Sunday afternoon I took Allee and Amorita down to the Gold Strike Hot Springs for a little post-tournament soak. I wanted to show off to Allee how beautiful the desert can be (Amo already knows...) and we needed a relaxing evening instead of another night out on the strip. It's a two mile trail through a great canyon, easy wash-hiking with occasional boulders to scramble over or slide down. We hiked in as the sun began to set and everyone else was hiking out, so we had the pools of hot water to ourselves we arrived- perfect for a little quiet skinny dipping and a peaceful beer.

And then this guy arrived. Just after we got comfortable (eg naked and drinking). I warned him, in case he was squeamish, that there were naked chicks in the vicinity. He wasn't, and after a brief chat, we learned that he had also been in town for the ultimate tournament. Thus considered a kindred spirit, we invited him in and offered him a beer. He declined the beer, but hopped in for a quick soak. He only stayed for a little while, citing a lack of headlamp and a long drive back to Phoenix as excuses. Apparently, there's a tourney in Tempe last weekend, and he might know a women's team that needs a woman, so I gave him my number.

Which turned out to be a very good decision. We lingered another half an hour or so, enjoying the warmth and the stars coming out into the moonless night. Our hike out was slow, with only my headlamp on the trail occasionally tricky terrain (like the rope-assisted scrambles), Allee in flip-flops, and all three of us in a hot-spring-soak induced tranquility. But, when we finally made it to the car, my headlamp fading as the batteries died, we noticed a jeep parked behind me with Arizona plates and a "Play Ultimate" sticker. Shit- the guy's still in there somewhere. Without a headlamp or any water, as he told us earlier.

We drove up the road, where I found cell reception and two messages "Hey- I think I might be lost" and "Are you guys out of the canyon yet?" I tried to call, but it didn't go through. I replied that we were out, he must be on a side canyon somewhere, and that we were going to run home for more headlamps and too dump the flip-flop florida girl off in bed before coming back down.

We hurried back, prepared. Water, lights, and wool hats (it cools off quick at night still). About half way down the trail, a few side canyons meet, and in the dark, it'd be pretty easy to start up the wrong one, so I had a pretty good idea where he might be. As we returned to the trailhead, we found the lights of a park ranger, and saw another driving up the jeep-trail to the peak. Apparently, he had called for help. We introduced ourselves to Ranger Michelle, who seemed pretty pleased to have our help, since we were far more prepared than she was for night hiking in the canyon. Once we told her that we were fellow park-people, we got into action. The park's plan had been to drive the powerline roads to look for him, and if that didn't work, they would have gone to a fly-over.

Luckily for the rangers and the lost boy, we had a pretty good idea where he might be, making a foot-search the much more practical option. We hit the trail, at a pretty good pace this time, pausing to yell in unison and listen to our echos and the lack of response. We had a nice chat with Michelle. Her partner, the road driver, sat as back-up at the trailhead. Finally, about a mile down, we heard a call back from up a steep side canyon- "Kate?" A quick scramble and I found him, quite happy to see me, only a couple hundred meters from the proper trail.

I'm not sure a boy has ever been so happy to see me. Lost, alone on a cold, moonless night in a canyon like that would have to be pretty scary. I gave him a hug, some water, and a headlamp, and we headed back down to Amo and Ranger Michelle. Apparently, he had hiked almost the whole way up the side canyon's steep, rough terrain before becoming convinced that he was really lost, and then trying to come back down, disoriented in darkness. He was scared and tired, but nothing seemed to be really bruised but his ego. I tried to chatter about ultimate and such on the hike out, to distract him from beating himself up too much.

Really, it probably could have happened to anybody who was feeling a little too confident. It's just a quick little hike, I won't need any water. I'll be out before it gets too dark, I won't need a headlamp. I couldn't really be lost and need help, could I? I do stupid stuff like that too. I mean, we just had 1 dying lamp, a little water, a few beers, improper footwear, and we had neglected to tell anyone else where we were going. But, we were in a group, and i'm pretty familiar with the trail, even in the dark. But it's a good lesson that it pays to be prepared, especially on the little trips that I take for granted. Allee had remarked on how prepared we were in the first place, "like little girl-scouts," I think she said, but it's nice to be reminded why the desert has taught me to do that. Because even if I've remembered not to be stupid, someone else might be.

So now, I've got a place to stay if I ever go to Phoenix. Amo and I were already considering a little Arizona trip in a few weeks- which is good timing now that someone owes us a beer or two.