It takes a minute to get lost in the woods. You leave the trail to find nature’s men’s room around some tree, and when you bushwhack back to the trail, it’s not there. You’re turned around.
Suddenly there’s nothing but trees and brambles. Spiders and ticks. Coyotes, foxes, feral dogs, a rumored cougar that was sighted in Libertyville recently, holed-up bank robbers, big-eyed owls, crowds of crows and vultures, all watching. And you have to find the trail!
You go left, and it’s not there. Then right, but you’re running deeper into the woods. And you’re not even in the Wild West or Michigan; it’s a Chicago forest preserve!
Cars are heard in the distance over your pounding heart. So you run, knowing you’ll eventually get out of the woods, unless you wrongly run in a circle. Then you’ll never get out, and you run faster, crazed. All in the time it takes to read this.
