Once upon a time, about the time my Father died, I decided to take one last walk around the old farm before Mom sold it and (no doubt) p*****d the money away.
I was taking the old ‘shortcut’ through a wooded area between two fields when I suddenly realized that in his later years, my Dad hadn’t had the energy to travel the trails and keep the vegetation beaten down. In short, I was surrounded by thick vegetation and thoroughly confused.
Thankfully, it was in the afternoon, and once I figured out where the sun was, all I had to do is walk toward it, and a couple of minutes later, I found my way out of the brush. I resolved never to place myself in that position again.
Poor lady. It’s easy to criticize the dead, but when you’re on the spot and every tree looks alike, it’s a whole other matter.
As for me, you won’t find me in the woods again without a group, and ... a compass.
“but when you’re on the spot and every tree looks alike”
Two weeks dude. Two weeks. There are very few places in this country where you can’t just get out of by walking in the same direction for two weeks.