(Aside: in the interests of making this blog somewhat less comatose, I've decided to abandon chronology in my catch-up posts here. You don't really care in what order I did things, do you?)
Thus:
Dumb Things I Have Done (Swedish Edition)
What are the two things you should have with you before venturing off-trail, anywhere, even on a Swedish island? It’s not water bottle and granola bar (at least not when it’s been raining steadily for days and water is all around, and you’ve been at a conference where the average interval between baked good consuming opportunities is perhaps three hours). No, as all sane people know, before you venture off trail, you make sure you have a map and a compass.
I had a map! It was photocopied, hand no topographic information, and no scale, but I had a map! I also had a deadline – the boat I’d come to the island on was departing at 5 p.m. I ditched the sedately walking, non-map carrying, sticking to wide paths, and definitely sane group at 2:30. I don’t really know why – it started with wanting a view from a higher point, and when I got up there – noting how slippery the wet rocks were – I commented to a Swede named Jonas that I thought I’d explore on my own a bit.
That was fun for about 35 minutes. It took me that long to realize that I wasn’t really sure where I was. At this point, I could easily have backtracked. But I had a map! And I hate backtracking! So I carried on.
Yeah. That always works well. I reasoned that I’d follow the shore. That would have been fine, but my progress was similar to that of a turtle. That is, if turtles did a few dicey crossings where there was nothing but a few flimsy junipers to cling to over slippery slippery rocks that sloped off oh so steeply and such a long way down into the sea. Yeah. That was smart.
And what do you do when you realize you are lost? You stay put, that’s what you do. But I still had about 45 minutes left, and it’s a small island, and I thought I could get back to the boat before they either departed without me or noticed I was missing. I moved faster, and my feet plunged into a few mossy puddles because I was being less careful. That could have ended badly. And it would have, no doubt (I suspect I know how it would have ended…) if I hadn’t come across the powerline, and followed it. At 4:45, I found a cart track that followed the powerline. I enthusiastically ran down it, hoping it would spit me out at the boat. Nope. Cottage and beach and dead end. So, I sprinted off into the other direction, and got to a crossroad. Well, cross cart-track. I took the biggest one. It also ended in a beach.
Now I was really sweaty, and it was 5:10. But I also had my soggy photocopied map, and through process of elimination (and the sun setting, which made west obvious even on an overcast day) I figured out where I was. And that was a 25 minute walk from the boat, and that I ran in 10 minutes, my lack of fitness protesting the entire time.
Within 300m of the boat – which I hoped was still there, but didn’t know if it was – I saw a flash of red. There was a person. And persons could only get to the island by boat. And thus this person would come with a boat, which would take me back to the mainland one way or another.
That person saw me and pulled out his mobile and made a call. Then he grinned at me and said, it’s a long winter. And then there was a big toot from the boat. And *then* the Swedish search and rescue boat pulled up to the dock, and there was another phone call to call off the helicopter. Which mercifully hadn’t launched yet.
Sigh. If you are feeling too anonymous, I suggest being 20 minutes late for a boat on the Swedish islands. Just make sure you comment to Jonas that you’re going off trail.