Getting Lost – Part 4

I just wanted someone to comfort me. I wanted to get out of the rainforest and back to the car. I wanted my husband to come walking towards me, wrap me in a warm embrace, and rescue me like a knight of old.

But I realised none of that was going to happen.

– ⋅ o ♥ o ⋅ –

I was certain the pathway had led off to my right when I sat to catch my breath, but now all I could see was the trunk of a huge tree.

Had it fallen and I not heard?  Surely not?  Yet there it was blocking the pathway, wedged behind two smaller trees preventing it from continuing its course to where I was.

A chill crawled up my spine thinking of what may have happened had the fallen giants’ journey not been interrupted.

I shook my head and cleared that thought.

Looking around, I tried to see past the rain, but it was impossible.  Water was falling and flowing everywhere and the earth was washing way with it.

I jumped at the sound of a deafening crack and, closing my eyes, I turned away from the giant, waiting for fate to come hurtling towards me.

But Fate it seemed had other ideas and I finally turned back to see the giant still there, firmly held by the little sentinel on the right.  The sentinel on the left was no longer there, but neither was the path.  Both had washed away and the giant was now teetering over the edge.

As the water continued to eat the path, edging closer and closer to where I was standing, I realised I had to move. Going forward wasn’t an option. I’d have to return back along the section I’d already climbed, back towards the bottom of the ravine.

I could not believe they’d gone on ahead without me. I know the Golden Rule of Bushwalking: “The group can only go as fast as the slowest walker.”  They knew I was the slowest walker, and they’d all left me behind.

It seemed like hours earlier that my husband had dashed ahead to ask the leader to slow down. It seemed like hours since I lost sight of the walker in front of me and it seemed like ages since the tail-ender had told me to stay put.

I’ll give him “Stay put!” I thought with bitter tears stinging my eyes. So much for being angry. So much for being brave.

Stumbling along, racked with fearful tears, I was grateful I could still see the pathway, well-defined albeit now full of water rushing towards the bottom of the ravine.

I remembered a separate branch of the path that led elsewhere.  Up I hoped, back to where the car was parked.

But I couldn’t remember how far back along the path.

Was it near the overhanging cliff or just past that large boulder?