The Unexpected Turn

Lucy shifted in her seat. The soporific movement of the vehicle on the road had sent her off to sleep. She half opened her eyes and peered out the window. “Five more minutes, Lucy, nearly there,” said Bob.

They were on their way to Three Forks Trailhead, part of the Appalachian Trail. It was only a short two-mile in and out track but it led to a spectacular waterfall called Long Creek Falls. They were following Forest Road 58 to a place they’d been to a few times since moving to the area last winter. It was now spring, and the landscape was changing colour. From the dark boughs of the evergreen trees with the new light green foliage appearing, contrast was everywhere in the forests and hilltops. Early rhododendrons were flowering and against the backdrop of tall poplars and thick green moss it was a breathtaking display. Purples and reds of all shades blended together and gave a luxurious patchwork feel to the landscape.

A large deer bounded from the forest canopy and leapt in front of the car. Bob turned the steering wheel violently. Having unknowingly missed death by a whisker, the deer turned tail and continued its frenzied charge back into the safety of the thick woods. The car’s wheels spun. The gravel surface of the road gave no purchase, causing the vehicle to pirouette towards the edge of the road. As the left side of the car slid off the road edge, the car tipped over and tumbled down the side of the valley. It finally came to rest as it reached the tree line, righting itself with metallic groaning and creaking as it settled.

Lucy came back to consciousness and shook her head trying to clear her senses. She looked across the car at Bob, who was pinned in place by the ruptured steering wheel column. He was alive but she could already see the blood that was seeping slowly from his thigh. He moaned softly but didn’t wake up.

She shifted slowly in her seat, nothing broken. No blood apparently, but her ears were roaring. She wriggled her way out of the open window and debated what to do first. She didn’t own a mobile telephone so couldn’t call anyone, the only way to help Bob was to go and get help. She looked at the steep bank leading back to the quiet road. It was perhaps climbable. However, in the opposite direction lay the trail and on that trail was a Ranger’s hut. There lay help.

Gingerly at first, she headed into the forest. The smell of the recent rain on the moss was all around, and the ground was spongy. As the noise in her ears abated, she became aware of the birdsong, the insects buzzing and humming, the scampering and scuttling. The forest was teeming with life all around and there was a faint scent of barbecued meat on the breeze. She’d only visited the falls a few times, but she had an instinctive idea of which direction to head to reach the hut. She had an oozing cut above her left eye but was completely unaware of it as she pressed on to reach help for her beloved Bob.

She passed a small stream, shallow and rocky, one of the many brooks that crisscrossed the area. She lowered her head and drank a little, noting the crystal-clear water and subtle mineral taste. She wanted to rest but knew she had to get help fast, so she pressed on and soon became aware of the sound of rushing water. The falls! She joined a track that was littered with acorns and leaf debris. Following the track for another half hour she reached the clearing. As she approached the water, she realised with disappointment that this was not a place she’d been

before. There was a picnic table with signs of use but no sign of anybody recently. She listened intently but could hear nothing but the rushing of water. She decided to follow the river downstream, partly due to intuition and partly because upstream lay boulders and thick vegetation that would require a lot of careful navigation and she didn’t have time for that. Bob was on her mind.

She remembered the last time they’d visited this valley. It had been on New Year’s Day, one of her favourite memories. They’d hiked out from the trail head; the sun had been shining, though the air was chilly. There had been patches of snow on the ground that glistened and crunched. They’d reached the falls and had picnicked on one of the wooden tables that lay in a semi-circle, taking in the best view of the cascades. After eating they’d played in the patchy snow, Bob had even built a miniature snowman while she had greeted another family of hikers that showed up. Everyone they’d ever met on this trail had stopped to say hello. The friendliness of the people in this area was what Bob had noticed while here on business. Ultimately it had led to the move here.

This track was unfamiliar. She paused, looking about her, when a squirrel appeared on the trail in front of her. The squirrel took a beat then made a flying jump onto the nearest tree and ascended to about halfway up the trunk before it turned, chattering angrily at her. She ignored it and continued on. Surely if she stayed on the trail it would lead to somewhere, right?

She was shivering now; the dampness of the forest was leeching into her coat. It was sunny, but the weak April sun was diffused through the forest canopy and little of the warmth reached the forest floor. She was also becoming increasingly aware that the light was starting to fade. She walked on trying to increase her pace, but as she grew colder her legs stiffened and it was becoming painful in her right hip. She caught a whiff of wood smoke from up ahead. She pressed on, whimpering a little now and again.

She was scared. What if she failed Bob? She’d never live with herself. She had to find help, find someone, it was non-negotiable. On and on, the track meandering around boulders, trees, but roughly following the river. Some bird cackled loudly overhead, making her jump. The shadows were long, and the glade becoming evermore gloomy. She rounded a bend and saw the source of the wood smoke she had smelled a while ago. Walkers had been here and had had a barbecue on a campfire, The embers were faintly warm but there was no sign of the walkers. Disappointed and hurting, she sat and cried.

She plodded on, sheer willpower keeping her on her feet. Pain coursed all through her now and her head was fuzzy. As darkness fell, she unknowingly veered off the trail and moved further into the forest. Exhaustion taking over, she curled up in the hollow of some tree roots that offered a little protection from the chilly air. Sleep came fitfully, haunted with sounds of the forest, and the discomfort of her injuries.

Lucy awoke sometime after dawn. She needed to urinate badly, and thirst had dried her mouth and throat. She relieved herself and looked about for the river. She realised she’d wandered from the trail. She listened for the river but couldn’t hear it. She was still aching, but the rest had helped, and she set off in what she thought seemed like a good direction. She wanted to be with Bob. They’d barely spent any time apart. She loved him with her heart and soul, he was her life, he was what she thought of when she woke every day, and when she went to bed, he was the last thing on her mind. She didn’t even love her family like this. She felt so helpless, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do, or have done. Which direction was right, to go on or to try and find her way back to Bob.

She stopped walking. Was that someone shouting in the distance? Voices calling to one another? Music? It was so far away she couldn’t really tell. She walked as quickly as she was able in the direction of the sounds. She passed another small brook and paused to quench her thirst.

The forest was thinning out; as the glades became larger the ground changed underfoot from spongy moss and mud to firm grassy flats, interspersed with early wildflowers. It was distinctly warmer too and easier to make a good pace. Lucy walked briskly on, crossing meadows, all the time listening out for sounds of people. She heard a loud guffaw. A man’s laugh almost straight ahead. She followed her ears although now the sounds had stopped. Through another small, wooded glade and over a small bank, and abruptly the river appeared. Broad and slow-flowing, almost silent, this vast expanse of water now stood between Lucy and possible help.

Not wishing to deviate from her selected direction, Lucy knew there was no other choice. She walked into the river and gasping with cold, attempted to swim to the other bank.

Despite the river being slow, the meltwaters had led to some strong currents, and Lucy was carried further down the bank than she intended. The intense cold made it difficult to swim and stay afloat, and it took an enormous effort for her to reach the pebbled shore and drag herself out of the water. She lay there gasping and coughing, until at last she could stagger to her feet. She got the water out of her coat as much as possible, but she was trembling violently by the time she set off again. After scrambling up the bank she crossed into an open meadow, enveloped in the sunshine she stopped to rest and soon drifted off, exhausted.

Woken by laughing and shouting, Lucy jumped up and ran towards the voices. Through a shadowy thicket onto a plateau, littered with giant boulders and flat stones. The land dropped away suddenly, and she cautiously peered over the edge. The roar of water almost deafened her, and she realised she’d been hearing it for some time without even being aware of it. She’d reached the cascades. Long Creek Falls were in front of her, but how to get down to where people were milling about, and children were playing? She called out but nobody could hear her above the thunderous water. She paced up and down along the ridge, searching for a safe way down. Precipitous rocks lay in the river at the base of the waterfall and on the sides of the cliff face was sheer rock, glistening, and slippery with moss.

She moved further along, away from the falls. Here the cliff face was more staggered and hardy trees grew amongst the ancient rocks. She prudently selected each foothold butslid and scrambled towards the base. One particularly slippery rock caught her out. She slipped onto her side and rolled over and over until her progress was cut short when she landed side-on against a tree.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a small boy carrying a homemade fishing rod.

She came to and looked groggily about. She was in a hospital, with an I.V. and a bandage over one eyebrow. She could see out of a window that it was night. She shifted uncomfortably, aware of the throbbing pain, but sensing it was fading. She drifted off to sleep again and slept a deep and dreamless sleep.

She was awakened by someone calling her name. “Lucy! My sweet love Lucy, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay!”

She knew that voice. She opened her eyes to see Bob leaning towards her, arm in cast, and sat in a wheelchair. “Oh Lucy,” he sobbed. “I thought you’d be dead after what happened. Thanks to you they found me! They found your ID and realised something had happened to us. A ranger found the car and I was taken to a hospital in town. They told me they had found you and how far you’d travelled to get help and what you had gone through.”

Bob wiped his eyes, taking a shaky breath in.

“I can’t believe you made it. I was sure you’d die. But you’re gonna be okay baby. I owe you my life Lucy. You’re the best dog in the world!