Camping!

Just as I was planning to spend a week hiking a rugged island in the middle of Lake Superior, I read about what happened to Craig Berg, and I changed my mind. From here on in, all my rugged hiking will be done on rugs.

Berg is 70, still a young man, and he left in August to traipse around Isle Royale National Park. It did not go well. 

A park ranger told him, “If something happens to you, it could be several days until somebody finds you.”

That alone would be enough to make me change my mind and stay home. I hate to be alone.

But Berg thought he'd be ok. He had a satellite-capable phone with a mapping app. 

This reminds me of all the people who told me over the years, "I'll be ok...I have four-wheel drive!"

So off he went, and then on Day Four, disappointment set in. He lost his way on what he called "a poorly marked trail," winding up in a swamp. He fell in the muck, drenching his clothes, bag and food. His boots came off but he found them, and you can just imagine how great it feels to put your hooves back in wet muddy boots. And his phone was sucked into the morass beneath his muddy feet.

Lost somewhere in the 207-square-mile island’s network of trails, he began hollering, "Help! I'm lost!"

He estimates he hollered those three words more than 10,000 times before embarking on the worst 11 days of anyone's life. He wandered in the woods, eating some freeze-dried food and drinking the worst water he ever tasted. 

Meanwhile, back at home, his wife Debbie was scared witless, of course, as her thoughts ran to what would happen on that island and images of moose and wolves danced across her thoughts.

Then Berg spotted a pair of kayakers 11 days after he’d gone missing.

When they came ashore, he told them his story and they were surprised to see him, having planned on simply seeing moose walking about. 

So, thanks to heaven for sending two kayakers. They told Berg they wanted beer for their trouble.

We have our priorities.