Lost

Let's begin by saying this was not one of my finest moments. However, it is a moment I can not deny.

It all began as the perfect ending. After a week of hiking and photographing in Sedona, I was ready for my last hike, my last sunset. 

I did a little research and found a perfect spot. About an hour's hike to reach a 1200m Plateau, ideal for photographing the distant sun kiss mountains.

Reaching the top an hour and a half before sunset, I was instantly blown away by the 360-degree views. I could not believe my luck and quickly started exploring with the raw excitement of a young boy in a candy shop.

The top of the Plateau was about the same size as six football fields, with steep sheer drops from every edge. Avoiding the centre section as there was never going to be any great shots there, I carefully began to walk around its circumference.

With every step I took, the sun sank lower, offering views I often dream about but rarely find. My slow and steady approach was thrown out the window as the race between the setting sun, and the perfect shot began.

Every photographer's dream; every photographer's nightmare.

After a bit of searching and scrambling, I found my spot and indulged in the wonder of the view that played out before me. To this day, the twenty minutes I spent alone, lost in this view, still feels like a beautiful memory seared into the fabric of my being.

As I took the last photo, I looked skywards and thanked the creator for a show I will never forget, and that's when a different kind of reality began to sink in.

I checked my watch and figured I had 15 minutes of ambient light left, more than enough to get back to the trailhead. But upon turning around, I quickly realised that I had no idea where it was; and where I was.

My first thought was, oh fuck, stay calm. I looked and listened for other people hoping they might give me a clue about which way to go, but heard nothing but the rising wind that seemed to be getting stronger by the minute and colder by the second.

I knew where I had come from, so I quickly retraced my steps to the position where I thought the trailhead was. No luck. Oh fuck, stay calm.

I reached for my phone, two percent battery. That's ok I have a battery in my bag for backup. Oh fuck, I left the cable in the car. This little adventure is heading south quickly.

It was now dark and too dangerous to move safely around the Plateau edge, so I had to bite the bullet and call my wife, who was in another country, about to take the stage to deliver a talk about dealing with stress. My strange mind thought this is cool; it will test how she deals with stress.

The call went through; luckily, she answered. I told her the details of what was happening, and she got a bit pissed off with me like this was my fault. Oh, that's right, it was. 

Anyway, I was not in the mood for an argument, so I hung up. Yes, you read that right. I hung up on my lifeline, on the only person in the world that I could ring for help.

Yes, I am an idiot!!!

She rang back calmer, as was I. She asked me to share my location, quickly hanging up, saying she was on it, stay put. I didn't want to push my luck, so this time I took her advice and did as I was told.

I found a rock to protect me from the freezing wind, ripped off some tree branches to keep my cold ass off the ground, and waited. And waited. And waited for what felt like an eternity. And nothing happened.

I switch my phone back on, no messages; this was not looking good, I didn't believe that I was in mortal danger, but it looked like a rough night ahead. The phone still had two percent, so I rang again, her message was simple, and to the point, you're an Australian idiot, lost in America; you need to call 911 right now.  

After living with someone for years, you can tell by the tone in their voice when it is time to do as you are told. I told her I loved her, hung up, and called 911.

Operator: 911, how can I help you?

Me: nervous laughter.

Operator: Sir, are you ok? How may I direct your call?

Me: sorry, but this is just like the movies.

Operator: Sir, how may I direct your call?

Getting my shit together

Me: I am lost and can't find the trailhead.

Operator: Are you hurt?

Me: No

Operator: Ok, I have triangulated your position. We are sending help; stay where you are.

Me: you are amazing, thank you.

The line went dead, and the wait began. I have to admit, for the first few minutes, it seemed like fun, like another adventure that was going to become a nice story for late-night drinks. But as time passed, the fun drifted away, and the cold crept ever closer.

I kept busy keeping warm for an hour until out of the pitch-black night; I saw the flashing red and blue light of my saviour. I got as close to the edge as was safe and flashed my underwhelming torch in the officers' direction. Like that was ever really going to work. I could see his powerful light beam scanning the area but had no way of really knowing if he knew where I was. This little game of show and tell went on for a few minutes before the flashing light, that where once my hope turned and disappeared into the ether of the night.

The truth was I was alone, cold, and just a little scared. As much as I like to believe that I am a kind of tough guy, the truth is I'm somewhat soft and far more use to the creature comforts of life.

Two hours passed with a silly routine of jumping around like a fool, trying anything to keep warm, distracting myself from what could be. Then just as I was starting to get worried, I heard a voice. "LOST BOY, WHERE ARE YOU?". Yes, that's what the officer was saying. I leapt to my feet, screaming, "I'M HERE; LOST BOY IS OVER HERE."

I ran towards the officer so fast I think he suspected I might be crazy. I thanked him and tried to regain my lost boy dignity, which took just a little while. I follow Brad down the mountain, deliriously happy, lost in the conversation of his life, lost in the conversation of his service.

A night to remember.

A night to forget.

After I called my wife and thanked her for everything she does better than me, I sat in the perfect silence of the moment and vowed that the lesson was clear, although the outing was far from perfect.

I would rather die living than live dying.