As one becomes good at hiking, one does begin to take more and more risk. Hiking through long trails in rough terrain is not only a lot of fun but downright addicting.
I had an experience a few years ago that I will somebody write a longer story about but for now, I'll recap it here.
I had opportunity to hike a 34-mile trail and had planned it for weeks. The week before my hike, a snowstorm was predicted for that weekend. Knowing the way that weather forecasters in New England hype up every storm, I decided to proceed anyhow. The morning of my hike, the snow was expected to move in around mid-afternoon. SO I figured I would be just fine. Just the same, I packed overnight survival gear in case I got injured or caught up in the storm where I would have to spend the night in the woods (as every serious hiker should).
It was a cold January day as I began my hike at daybreak. Very little snow was on the ground and it was perfect weather, about 15 degrees. As the sun rose over the horizon, there was not a cloud in the sky and the storm seemed far way. I figured if I could average 3 miles an hour, I'd be back at the lodge by sunset with the snow just getting underway. I was looking forward to it as I love walking in the woods when it is snowing.
Around midday, the skies clouded over rapidly and the wind started picking up. At about the halfway point on my "loop", I stopped for lunch and a rest. As it took me just 5 hours to get halfway, I figured I'd make it back well before dark even if the storm moved in sooner.
About an hour into the second leg of my hike, I came up over a hill and saw the sky ominously dark to my south. The snow shield was moving in. Very quickly, the air was full of flakes and the wind was howling. Fortunately it was a well marked trail and the snow was dry and fine so it wasn't sticking to the trees and obscuring the markers. But I very quickly lost sight of the ground and started tripping over roots and rocks that I could no longer see. Within an hour, there was already 2-3 inches on the ground!
I had to slow my pace and started losing time. It was now going to be definitely dark by the time I got back. But it got darker much sooner and the snow started sticking to the trees to where I couldn't see the markers very well. By 4PM, I had to start using my flashlight and the snow was up to my ankles. Fortunately, I had extra set of batteries. I ended up needing them.
I can't say I truly panicked but there was a point where I considered myself "lost" and I wasn't sure if I was on the trail anymore or not. I did know from the map that so long as I headed east, I'd eventually run into the main road. Fortunately, I had a compass to keep my bearing. Eventually, I stumbled out onto the road but it was unplowed! I also didn't know if I had to turn left or right to find where my car was parked (I had definitely turned off the trail as my car was parked at the trail head).
I figured I should turn right because even if I overshot where my car was parked, at least I'd end up at the lodge (that was about 3 miles down the road from where I parked at the trail head).
After about a half hour, I see the sign for the trail parking. Fortunately, I had entered the road north of my car and not south of it. I cleared off my car (which was buried under at least 10 inches of snow by this time), cleared the tailpipe and got inside to get warm. I was planning on spending the night in the car with my sleeping bag as the road would certainly be plowed out by morning. But fortunately, I saw some flashing yellow lights going by me on the road. The plows were already out!
At that point, it was a matter of shoveling a patch to the road from where my car was parked (I always carry a snow shovel in my trunk during winter) and getting back to the lodge where I got the best night sleep of my life!
At any rate, at no point during my experience was I expecting a "rescue." It was entirely up to me to get myself back safely and the situation I was in was entirely of my own making.
Someday, I'm going to write a much longer narrative about that experience. It was one of the most exciting days of my life.
That is quite an exciting story.
I look back at my own hiking/climbing history in Mt. Washington, during my late teens and early twenties... those were some good times. Mostly I have shifted from winter climbing/hiking to downhill skiing.
My own worst 'near disaster' occurred when I was climbing Algonquin Peak with a group during April. The weather rapidly shifted from clear mild conditions into a light rain, followed by a solid blizzard. We turned back, but descending the slippery trail with a heavy pack and the wrong kind of boots took a really long time.
I ended up with some frostbite on my left hand, and considered myself lucky to return mostly unscathed.