Hunting alone is never a good idea. It was a cold, but beautiful early afternoon in the mountains of Pennsylvania. I had found my sweet spot earlier in the year while cutting firewood. I cleared the snow and leaves away at the base of a large white oak tree for silent footing and began the wait. After standing there for hours, I finally see brown movement several hundred yards below and to my left. It was why a hunter braves the elements, a white tail deer, but too far away to identify buck or doe. Looking at the deer in my scope, I could tell it was acting a bit strange, but unable to detect the problem. I made a decision to gather my things and sneak quietly toward it. Finally coming across its track, the “strange” behavior was easily recognizable. I discovered the deer was bleeding from an earlier wound. Knowing this animal would most likely not make it through the night, I chose to track it in an attempt to return home with some fresh venison and end its suffering.

An unnerving thing happened along the way. I got lost, very lost. While tracking the deer, it started to snow heavily. I was unsure where I was headed, but knew I could follow my tracks back to my stand. Now the snow had completely covered up my tracks and I hadn’t a clue of where I was or which direction to head. For some reason, I had left my compass at home and it was so cloudy with such heavy snowfall, I could not use the sun for position. Now my strategy changed from deer hunting to somehow not freezing to death and getting out of Penn’s woods safely before nightfall. It was becoming more and more difficult to push my way through the deep snow, visibility was poor and I was out of drinking water. I had crossed so many ridges and now north, south, east and west were all in any (unknown to me) direction. The worst was yet to come because it was beginning to become dusk. “Keep your head, Steve, because you are really lost for the second time in your life.”

To be continued…