Splitting up seemed like it could have some drawbacks and part of me felt investing energy in building a new camp was a waste. Part of me felt like we should all put our faith in Erin’s navigation and make a beeline for the road. However, the situation was so far outside of the norm it felt like we couldn’t count on experience to be our guide. Leaving ourselves in a situation where there was only one path forward was dangerous if we didn’t really know where it led. We were cautious and conservative by nature, which ultimately served us well.
Our experience at the campsite had been unexpected and surreal enough to elicit a sort of rational fear, but it had been brief and indirect enough that there wasn’t really any trauma to unpack at this stage. Everything had an edge of unreality and it was easy to sort of shade our experience from the prior night in doubt. What really happened and how did it happen? We hadn’t been injured or specifically threatened, so it was easy to be curious and convince myself that I’d be cautious. I could tell that my mind was foggy and I wasn’t really firing on all cylinders, a lack of sleep and physical exhaustion were likely contributing to my malaise.
I have watched much anime, read many webtoons and spent way too much time immersed in game lit and progression fantasy to not be the circumstances vaguely familiar. I often felt that the characters in these properties were a little too willing to accept the logic of games being overwritten on reality and then on the other hand appeal to scientific principles or social logic. Despite this critique, I was almost a little hopeful. I had never been very good at the chaos of the real world, so the idea of a system of rules for society that are knowable and accessible was always so tantalizingly attractive. I knew that we weren’t going to find some portal or dungeon obelisk in the woods that would whisk us to some fantasy realm, but I was curious what we would find and I wanted to see it for myself. I have no idea what Kelly was thinking when she volunteered to come with Lyle and me, but I was glad that she did. In all likelihood she was all the reality check that we’d need.
The trip back to our former campsite was slow going, but not a very difficult hike. The game trail was plenty narrow in spots and there were plenty of roots and smaller rocks with the occasional boulder or crevasse where a slump block had broken up over time or the limestone had leached from underneath and caused a small collapse. There was a stream winding through this part of the forest and you could hear it burbling along through the rocks and the dirt. No telling how it would change this forest in another hundred thousand years, but for today nothing looked disturbed or out of place.
We also took extra time because we were looking for signs along the trail or movement or really anything amiss. The most interesting thing that we spotted was a great horned owl. Don’t usually see those guys during the day or at all really. He looked at us, jumped off the maple branch on which we had spotted him resting and flew silently into the forest. Nothing was stirring in the vicinity and nothing had followed us last night that left any sign. Lyle, Kelly and I were mostly silent as we went and it was a quiet and peaceful hike.
***
The hike to the road was a perfect spot for Erin to shine. She was an experienced hiker and in good enough shape to make the trek in time, especially with Jim and Lando. She was confident because she had calculated everything out. She had used her map to identify the best path to the road given the density of the forest and the terrain and done the math.
It was a 4.5 mile path that snaked between the slump blocks, streams, sandstone cliff and limestone caves to gradually make the 1000 feet of elevation change from their current position to the nearest road. Using Naismith’s Rule Erin figured that would be 4.5 miles at 3 miles per hour with an extra half an hour for the 1000 feet of elevation change for a total of 2 hours on the trip out. Say an hour at the road and then the same 4.5 miles and 1000 of elevation change on the way back would put the whole trip at 5 hours. It was just about 7:00 AM, so yeah a perfect trip by the numbers. Hiking through that type of terrain at 3 miles per hour would be a real push, but Lando and Jim were good for it and Erin knew that she could make it happen.
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Erin took the lead and set the pace from the jump and Jim and Lando fell in line behind her. She had her map and her orienteering compass and she was going to navigate this thing to the minute Red October style. That isn’t to say that she was focused on the map. No need. She had the map pretty well memorized before this little camping trip even got started, but it was useful for the time checks every 15 minutes to check their progress against her estimated pace for that segment. It is important to note that these were not breaks, there was no time for breaks in the plan and Erin hardly even slowed down as she made her checks.
The three of them scanned the forest as they picked their way along the “trail” that Erin had selected, but nothing jumped out (figuratively or literally). They got into a groove. Jim and Lando struck up some kind of inane conversation about how great it would be to dirt bike along this route, which transitioned to an ode to how great dirt bikes were a priori. Erin didn’t pay them any mind, they were keeping pace and she was right on time. They should hit the road in five minutes.
Except they didn’t. Five minutes just about on the nose and they were standing right where State Route 245 should have been , but there was no road. Erin knew the road had to be there. She had driven down it a few days before on her way to camp, but it wasn’t a washout or a landslide. There was no debris or evidence of a road at all. It was like the road had simply never been constructed. The forest continued unbroken, the earth wasn’t graded and she couldn’t see anything.
Erin decided that the three of them should hike another 10 minutes in the direction they had been traveling and then work together for 20 minutes to complete a concurrent search of their immediate surroundings. They would then take a 20 minute rest before heading back to the clearing. Lando found a couple of walnut trees that appear to have dropped their bounty all over the ground in a mess of green pods and shells already deprived of their meat by sharp toothed squirrels. Nothing else of interest.
***
We crept up to the hill where we had camped very slowly. We had taken a quick break about a mile out to get aligned on a plan for the actual approach. We would continue to move straight back the way we came and then fan out to hit the southeast, south and southwest points of the roughly oblong hill that we had camped on for the past few days. The idea was to stay low, be sneaky and spend 10 minutes in position observing before meeting again about a quarter mile back into the woods on the trail to the clearing on the hill’s north side.
I made my way to the southern edge of the hill, but both Lyle and Kelly beat me to their designated positions. Our camp was still there and in the same condition that we left it. As I picked my way past the fire ring and through the tents, I froze as Lyle gasped. It seemed like a gasp of surprise more than fear or pain, but even a practiced student of the human condition such as myself would be hard pressed to really cut a gasp that finely. Kelly standing up in her position and swearing also seemed like a clue that something was up. I stuck to the plan and pushed forward to the south side of the hill. As I peeked around the boulder that I was valiantly using for cover and down the south side of the hill, I was also surprised.
The area below the hill was a flat expanse hemmed in by the larger sandstone cliffs and was largely empty. There was no trace of our cars or the moving trees and sandstone giants from the night before. A large, central sandstone obelisk dominated the space. The obelisk was roughly 60 feet tall, reaching about 10 feet above the cliffs that largely hemmed in the space from three sides. It showed no seams or joins and sat on a perfectly circular disc of sandstone probably two feet in height. On the far side an amphitheater-like structure was built of large rectangular blocks of sandstone of increasing size that interlocked to form a four layer half hexagonal space. This structure abutted the sandstone cliff that defined the southern edge of the space.
Between the obelisk and the amphitheater was a large, recessed stone lined ring that looked like it would make a pretty nice fire pit. To the east of the spire was a timber framed three sided shed with a slanted roof that was full to the rafters with firewood. To the west was an additional sandstone obelisk of similar proportions to the central structure, but a 1/10 scale. Beyond it a narrow path disappeared into the cliff forming the western edge of the space.
The rest was just flat, sandy soil. The space was still and silent and completely devoid of life. It gave me an unnatural feeling of calm. It felt welcoming, which was unsettling in its own way. I came back to myself with Kelly and Lyle looming over me. I guess it was time for a new plan.