Lost
Labor Day was a lazy day for us in Hilo, so Eisa, Aidan, June and I decided to take an evening stroll. June knew about a small waterfront park less than a half mile down the road. It was not obviously marked, and none of us had been there before, but it was a lovely jaunt. We started by stealing some lilikoi from the neighbor's driveway. Aidan taught me how to crack the skin open, and we sucked down the tart little seeds as we walked. The park was small, but had a nice easy path through the jungle out to the water. We climbed around on the rocky shore, and saw a sea turtle, an eel, and some sea slugs. We could also see, just a couple hundred yards away, Four Mile Beach, its parking lot chock full of holiday BBQers. We decided to scramble down to the beach, and then take the short walk back home along the road.
Sadly, we ran out of shore pretty quickly. Surprisingly dense jungle pressed right up to the water. We waded across some short and shallow channels, thinking that each one would let us stroll unmolested to the beach. Aidan was wearing a swimsuit and flip-flops, but the rest of us were wearing normal stay-dry clothes, and I was smart enough to bring my wallet. I have legendarily bad balance, so I went last, at one point tossing my shoes and my wallet across to dry June, so that they didn't have to make their way across the slippery channel with me. We crossed a few times, each fording a little deeper and longer than the last. In one little channel, an enormous tortoise swam by right after I'd crossed. Eventually, 100 yards from safety, we ran out of real estate. Aidan easily swam across to the beach, and ate passion fruit while he watched us struggle to figure out what to do. June tried to wade across on slippery rocks, and ended up soaked up to the neck. Eisa thought she saw a better wading lane, but she ended up just as wet, in white clothes to boot. I didn't want to swim, and I was tired of awkwardly stepping across slippery rocks, so I backtracked a couple of steps and convinced myself I saw a rough path through the jungle. The "path" ended in 10 feet, but once a scrambled over a dense patch, I ran into a dry stream bed. I was following it when I heard Eisa call out from the water. "I'm fine," I called back. "Making good progress".
The stream bed didn't last long, and soon I was slogging through dense jungle. I didn't think I could be far from either the road or the beach park, so I pressed on. It only, as is obvious to me only now, got thicker and darker. There were thick vines so tough that I had no chance of breaking through them, forcing me to climb over or slither under. There were plants with leaves as big as my torso, completely obscuring the roots or sharp lava rock or muddy mess below. There were hills. There were dense bamboo patches and dense ginger patches. And it was getting dark.
I should point I was in a pretty tiny jungle, in a city, an eighth of a mile from a beach with hundreds of people on it and a half-mile from our house. I had one brief moment of panic -- what if I get lost? -- but I swallowed that with a recitation of how safe I actually was. I kept my sense of direction pretty well, and knew I was drifiting away from Four Mile. I sucked it up, and veered back right through the thickest patch yet. Under a block of vines. Over a fallen tree, but under a dense leaf canopy. And then...light. And after that...Aidan's voice, presumably from outside the jungle. And I was out, twenty minutes after I plunged in. Sweaty, filthy, exhilarated, and out.
We met up with Eisa and June just down the road, where they had gone on a suspicion about where I might emerge into the clear. Eisa said she had been calling my name for ten minutes, but I only heard her once -- scary how fierce the jungle is. I joked that the headline in the paper the next day could be "Illinois Man Declared Lost In Half-Acre Jungle", and I was quite pleased that I hadn't required rescue. Jungle, you'll have to wait for another time to claim me. Plus, next time I go for a new walk along the ocean, I'm going to leave my options open and leave my wallet behind.
Sadly, we ran out of shore pretty quickly. Surprisingly dense jungle pressed right up to the water. We waded across some short and shallow channels, thinking that each one would let us stroll unmolested to the beach. Aidan was wearing a swimsuit and flip-flops, but the rest of us were wearing normal stay-dry clothes, and I was smart enough to bring my wallet. I have legendarily bad balance, so I went last, at one point tossing my shoes and my wallet across to dry June, so that they didn't have to make their way across the slippery channel with me. We crossed a few times, each fording a little deeper and longer than the last. In one little channel, an enormous tortoise swam by right after I'd crossed. Eventually, 100 yards from safety, we ran out of real estate. Aidan easily swam across to the beach, and ate passion fruit while he watched us struggle to figure out what to do. June tried to wade across on slippery rocks, and ended up soaked up to the neck. Eisa thought she saw a better wading lane, but she ended up just as wet, in white clothes to boot. I didn't want to swim, and I was tired of awkwardly stepping across slippery rocks, so I backtracked a couple of steps and convinced myself I saw a rough path through the jungle. The "path" ended in 10 feet, but once a scrambled over a dense patch, I ran into a dry stream bed. I was following it when I heard Eisa call out from the water. "I'm fine," I called back. "Making good progress".
The stream bed didn't last long, and soon I was slogging through dense jungle. I didn't think I could be far from either the road or the beach park, so I pressed on. It only, as is obvious to me only now, got thicker and darker. There were thick vines so tough that I had no chance of breaking through them, forcing me to climb over or slither under. There were plants with leaves as big as my torso, completely obscuring the roots or sharp lava rock or muddy mess below. There were hills. There were dense bamboo patches and dense ginger patches. And it was getting dark.
I should point I was in a pretty tiny jungle, in a city, an eighth of a mile from a beach with hundreds of people on it and a half-mile from our house. I had one brief moment of panic -- what if I get lost? -- but I swallowed that with a recitation of how safe I actually was. I kept my sense of direction pretty well, and knew I was drifiting away from Four Mile. I sucked it up, and veered back right through the thickest patch yet. Under a block of vines. Over a fallen tree, but under a dense leaf canopy. And then...light. And after that...Aidan's voice, presumably from outside the jungle. And I was out, twenty minutes after I plunged in. Sweaty, filthy, exhilarated, and out.
We met up with Eisa and June just down the road, where they had gone on a suspicion about where I might emerge into the clear. Eisa said she had been calling my name for ten minutes, but I only heard her once -- scary how fierce the jungle is. I joked that the headline in the paper the next day could be "Illinois Man Declared Lost In Half-Acre Jungle", and I was quite pleased that I hadn't required rescue. Jungle, you'll have to wait for another time to claim me. Plus, next time I go for a new walk along the ocean, I'm going to leave my options open and leave my wallet behind.
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