I drove over to the Gilberts’ house, which was not the site of the party, to pick it up. They live in a little subdivision just behind the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses, which had passed on the way home from the hike, but, of course, I did not know, at that time, that my phone was so nearby.
The only action on it while it was lost was three texts from DP, hoping someone would hear the Battle Horn of the Haradrim and answer - although they couldn’t because of the password - and a call from me, hoping someone would hear the “brrrrrring! brrrrrring!” and answer it.
Unlikely to be able to get much of an adventure story out of that, but let Darksheare mull it over for a bit, and he could morph it into an eldritch horror scene that would chill your gizzard.
Of course, if we did that, you might not want to use it any more.