Lost In The River Bottom

It was nautical twilight. We were headin' down the road, driving approximately 4mph over the speed limit. Up ahead stood a glimmering stop sign. 

"Wow," said Angelo, "You actually came to a complete stop." 

"What do you mean?" said Jakob.

"You actually came to a complete stop. People don't really do that very often."

"Ok," shrugged Jakob, his eyes still fixed to the road.

The encroaching shadows of night were swallowing up the last remaining beams of the sun. It was dark. Real dark. There was no moon. At least not yet. I assumed that it was either stuck in some sort of cosmic traffic jam or that it had been out late partyin' it up with the other moons and had slept through its alarm. Probably snorted too much stardust and danced it up with Io and Europa and Mimas and Titan on the interstellar disco floor. Boy, do those moons sure know how to break it down. 

In a matter of moments we had arrived at our destination: The River Bottom. We had decided that since it was such a lovely evening we would take a nice stroll. This wasn't the main plan of course. Jakob was wearing shorts and flip-flops—the ideal uniform to wear when playing a wonderful game of pool. But since the pool table was closed we decided to head just down the street a little ways for a delightful nighttime saunter into the local wilds. 

As we made our way down into the labyrinth of trails Angelo pitched a wonderful idea,

"Yo, we should try to get lost."

"Why" said I.

"Cause it would be cool."

"I'm down with that" said Jakob"

"Me too" said I. 

A novelty such as this was too tempting to pass. Getting lost? On purpose? Hell yeah! It would be pretty simple. The River Bottom is full of twists and turns and trails that run in every direction. Some are closed and unmaintained and lead you to nothing at all, simply dumping you in the middle of nowhere. On a moonless night, with only the lights from our phones to guide us, getting lost on purpose would be a real easy feat. Finding our way back however...well...

I led the way, making left after left after left, each left being the beginning of a new path. I figured that the more lefts that I took the more likely I was to forget how many rights I would need to take on the way back. But no matter. I wasn't counting anyway.

We eventually stumbled upon the desiccated, sun-baked river bed. It was bone dry. We left the trail for a little ways, tripping over rocks and plants and stuff until we decided to take a lil' break. We turned off our phone flashlights. We looked up at the stars. Off in the distance, we could see Io and Europa and Mimas and Titan still dancin' it up. Venus and Mars looked on in contempt. Jupiter was taking pictures. And Saturn was off by itself, floating alone in an empty corner of space, hula-hooping to the sound of silence. 

"Wow" said Jakob, "There are so many stars out tonight."

"It's all just a blanket with holes in it" joked Angelo, "stars aren't real."

"Neither are birds," said I. "They're just government surveillance drones. Why do you think the hang out on power lines all the time? They're re-chargin.'"

Once we were done taking in the beauty of the heavens we began our heroic quest back to the parking lot. It was a frustrating task. We got lost almost immediately. And lookin' back it it now, since I was leading the way—I take full responsibility as the one who got us very, very lost. I take all the credit. If it weren't for me, we would have probably been back at the car in no time. Probably. Gettin' lost is a universal skill that inhabits all individuals. It doesn't discriminate. Jakob can get lost. Angelo can get lost. You can get lost. Everyone can get lost. So if you're ever feelin' down and out, sulkin' around and feelin' sorry for yourself, feelin' like you're a big failure and that you're utterly worthless, ALWAYS remember this: A kidney goes for about $262,000 on the black market. Sell yours, take the cash, and get lost!

The trail that we were following was becoming harder and harder to follow. We walked through many thickets. Walked through a lot of tall grass. Walked through bush after bush after bush. Eventually, Jakob and Angelo decided to leave the trail to follow a dry creek bed. I continued on alone, believing that we were actually really close to the parkin' lot. We weren't. I couldn't have been more wrong. I found myself huggin' the huge cliff wall that rises up and out of the River Bottom. There were no trails, no paths, no nothing. I backed up a ways, listening for a vehicle to pass by. There were none. "Whelp," I thought, "I guess I'll have to go back and tell 'em the bad news.

Finding them wasn't too hard. I just followed the sounds of their voices and the only two bobbing orbs of light in the entire River Bottom. Easy-peasy. When I caught up to them, they seemed deflated. 

"So you didn't find the way out either" said Angelo. 

"Nope" said I.

"Oh well, lets keep movin'."

I started jogging ahead. I had to be the leader you know? I got us lost, I had to get us found. That's how it works. We were approaching a narrow section of the creek. Walls of brushed choked the sides, with one branch of a lone sycamore tree making a sort of arch over the creek bed. I lost my footing, stumbled, nearly falling flat on my face. I steadied myself and turned around. 

"Holy SH*T" said Angelo. "DUDE!"

"What" said I.

"THAT THING IS F*CKIN" HUGE, HELL THE F*CK NO!"

If I had fallen just a little more to my left I would have fallen face-first into a huge web. It took up about a third of the arch, some of the strings stretching all the way to the ground. There were two big ol' spooky spiders in this web, just mindin' there own business. One was considerably larger than the other. I guess they knew each other. I hadn't noticed them. My phone light only reached so far. But I'm sure glad I never introduced myself to them spiders. I don't think they would have appreciated my presence.

Making sure to avoid the web, we continued down the creek bed, even though we knew that it was probably not gonna take us anywhere civilized. What finally made us turn around wasn't no spider or animal or creepy-crawly. It was a trail. A trail that led to something very interesting. We had thought that we had finally found the main trail, our ticket out of this labyrinth of confusion. We followed it to a hollowed out bush. This trail did not go to the parking lot. Instead, it led us to this weird place, a place that was full of stick figurines and symbols and markings and what have you. Witchcraft? Satanism? Modern art? We didn't wanna find out. We got outta there real quick. 

After what seemed like hours (even though it had only been like 35 minutes since we first started this silly adventure) we somehow managed to find a way out. It was a big trail, well trodden, well marked. It looked very familiar. We stuck to it. We were relieved.

Just as we began the short climb back up to the parkin' lot, Jakob pointed towards a shadow on the ground. We all gathered around, staring at it with a mixture of fascination and horror. It was a scorpion. He was chillin'. Not botherin' no one.  But if he was there that means that there were more out there. In the thickets. In the tall grass. In the bush after bush after bush that we travelled through. And Jakob was wearing flip-flops. But no worries. Flip-flops are great for pool and repelling scorpions. Doesn't everyone know that? Ha-ha. 

We made it back to the parkin' lot. Back to the car. We had had enough for one night. Off and away we went, making complete stop after complete stop, the hungover moon washing the car with its bilious light. 

It had finally shown up after all!