THE GEOGRAM WEEKLY: The HIKE...A True Story

THE HIKE...Chapter 9

A TRUE STORY

It was late into the afternoon by now. We were all suppose to meet back at the pavilion at 3 PM. Certainly they would be looking for us.

My mind ran through the details once again. We crossed the bridge and are following the river current in the opposite direction, so we should be returning to the main park any minute now. A few years ago when I walked this trail it didn't take this long to cross over and return to the pavilion. Why was it taking so long this time?

We were in an optimistic mood, making jokes of how the parish priest got us lost in the woods and how the senior pastor of the church would be upset when Father Conway didn't show up for early Mass and he would have to get up to celebrate it. We talked about all the picnic food that went to waste because we weren't there to devour it. It sure would taste good right now! All that cool, refreshing soda waiting for us! And those students who ran off without giving us girls a second thought? They'll be sorry now that the schedule has been smashed and everyone has to wait for us to return.

This was the big event all we choir members looked forward to through the long weeks of summer, rising early to show up and sing for daily Mass. The picnic at Copper Falls State Park! It was THE PLACE for all significant outings in northern Wisconsin. The park being 45 miles north of Park Falls, we boarded the school bus at 9 AM. We were to return home by 6 PM.

My thoughts returned to the moment. Father Conway and Theresa were cordial, trusting that I, the leader of this hike, knew what I was doing. I hoped I knew what I was proclaiming.
This all started early afternoon, shortly after arriving at the park. Instruction to us was that we had to go out in groups of three to walk the trails along the 2 mile river course of water falls.
Most of the girls quickly scattered with their friends, leaving Theresa and me sitting at a picnic table. Neither of us were part of the "in" social crowd. Theresa was 17, home for the summer, and studying to be a nun. She was a postulate, I think is what they are called. I was 13, ready to start 8th grade. I never really blended in with my classmates since I was a transfer student from Indiana, though it had been 4 years. Being insecure about whether "they liked me", I tended to be a loner, even at recess. I was included in the picnic because I had played the organ for the choir during the summer.
Father Tom Conway was the assistant pastor at St. Anthony's and was invited along as a courtesy. He saw Theresa and me sitting, not knowing what to do. Having found out the instruction of the three-some, he offered to go walking with us. Great! We had a holy trio! I was pumped, ready to show off my girl scout skills, so confidently suggested we walk the lesser busy trail on the right side of the river. I had hiked it a couple years earlier. There is a bridge not too far down that crosses over and we can come back the more popular trail. There was time to complete it and be back at 3 o'clock. The picnic wasn't a washout after all!

Starting from the main park the trail follows the river down current. We had enjoyed the hike for about an hour. The air was warm, the sun shining and the breeze enough to keep the mosquitoes and deer flies from harassing us. The trail, though, was a bit soggy and slippery. There had been so much rain that summer making for a full river and heavy flowing rapids. We had eagerly observed Copper Falls in its full root beer colored majesty and were now eager to cross the bridge and head back.

Walking on, we hiked much farther than I remembered. The scenery was rustic as we continued along the path paralleling the rapidly flowing river. We weren't as jovial as earlier but still had optimistic conversation and hopeful prayer. In my heart and mind I knew we had to come upon the bridge that would cross over and lead back to civilization, even though now the return hike would be long. Sunlight remained until late evening in August so we should be back before dark. Father Conway's watch showed it was 6 PM. People must be quite worried or even angry. The bus must have already left since parents would be expecting their children home.

Father Conway's "Hey!" pulled me out of my musings. A bridge! THE BRIDGE! Yay! We made it! Finally! As we crossed the bridge we were flooded with renewed energy and excitement. We were going home! We weren't lost! I was not a washed out nature guide after all!
Reason dictated that since we had followed the current flowing downstream, walking the trail against the current would take us where we needed to be. By now the path had narrowed and wasn't quite as pronounced as at the start, but probably a lot fewer hikers came this side of the river this far out. We guessed how many miles we had hiked. Maybe 3, maybe 5? Felt liked 20 to me, and we were just half way in getting back. A cool drink would be great right now. "Water, water, everywhere and none to drink", we sighed. We hadn't taken any extra provisions since it was a short excursion. The day had been hot so we were lightly dressed. Even now the humidity was high with the recent rain having soaked the forest. The path was mostly dry but patches of mud appeared more frequently. Thankfully the bugs weren't too bad.

Thankfully to me, also, Father and Teresa didn't make accusing or angry remarks to me. Instead, as we walked we thought of various excuses we could give for being so late.

After trudging along for an hour with the path getting even more narrow, the forest getting thicker and the river more turbulent we sensed something was wrong. At times the trail led away from the river, up and down small hills and then back to the rapids again. It didn't make sense. We should be closer to cultivated trails by now and have some hint of civilization. We concluded...We Are Lost! Still we reasoned that following against the current should somehow lead us home.
I didn't feel any panic. Being a child and having a man with us made me feel safe. A man and woman of God certainly must mean something in the Heavenlies! I felt responsible for this dilemma. But even with that I was more into the moment of "what's next"?
As the sun was going down the air grew chilly and damp. The bugs were starting to look upon us as a delightful, surprise buffet.
Father Conway took charge and said we should find somewhere to stay the night. As the path wound its way through the ticket we could hear the sound of rapids getting louder. It led us down a small hill and onto an open gravelly area next to the river, a sandbar. It was quite spacious and Father thought it would be a good place to settle in.
We picked the most comfortable rocks to sit on. Father rummaged through his pockets and wallet to see what magic he could provide. He tried to light a dollar bill with a match, hoping we could start a campfire. The dampness was so pervasive that it would not catch fire. Blessedly, the breeze was enough to keep the mosquitoes from bothering us.

As dusk was settling we sat around our make believe campfire and ate our make believe roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. We encouraged ourselves that God was taking care of us, that searchers would be out looking for us. We decided that when the light returned in the morning we would continue upstream. Father again joked how the senior pastor was so annoyed that he had to rise early to say the 6:30 Mass when that was the assistant's job. Boy, would he be in trouble when he got back!
The three of us chatted about small things for awhile, prayed for God's protection and then looked around for semi-comffy places to lie down. We were so tired that even the damp, hard, sandy ground felt good. Soon we were all in our own worlds, with our own thoughts.
My mind feared a bear meeting up with us to tear us to pieces. We were close to heavy flowing rapids and I didn't want to venture after dark not knowing where land stopped and water took over. By now the night was so thick, not even a star shown through. All I could sense was the sound of the loud, rushing water somewhere nearby.
We all drifted off to sleep.
Suddenly I was awake, full of terror. Everything was so black! Glancing up into the night sky I could see white peculiar forms floating by...a pig, a truck, shapeless streaks of whatever. The cold was penetrating and childhood fears overwhelmed me. Father woke up and allowed me to hug him.
Sitting there I soon heard voices...more hallucinations. But they kept getting louder. They were far away, but so real. I thought I heard motors and more voices. Father heard them now, too. Then Theresa. Could it be? Could people actually be somewhere out there looking for us? At 3 AM?
We started yelling through the dark, all three of us. Waving our arms, as though they could spot us miles away, across the river and through the night. They yelled back...said they couldn't get to us until daylight. Just stay put. Well, that's not hard to do. We were elated, yet so tired. A blanket, something to eat, to drink was on my mind.

Dawn rose around 5 AM. By 5:30 we heard motors near and men approaching by foot. They brought us smiles, relief, blankets, ham sandwiches, water and chocolate bars! They hurried us to waiting vehicles. On the way out of the woods and back into Park Falls they told us we were 8 miles out in wilderness. Had we continued our trek that day we would venture further and further into the wild. We had crossed the Taylor River which flowed into the Bad River we thought we were following. The currents changed direction. There indeed had been a bridge crossing the Bad River, but it had been washed out from high water and then dismantled. The paths we were following were deer trails leading to water. We had crossed land and returned to the east side of the Bad River.

The driver took me to my Aunt Emma's. I went to sleep for several hours in a warm, cozy bed. Father came by later in the day to see if I was alright. He admitted his fears were of snakes. Yikes. The senior pastor was not angry with him at all, just happy he was found. Theresa recovered at her home and returned to the convent a few weeks later.
The choir picnic wasn't a washout after all, or was it?
The End.
_____________________________
Father Tom Conway served in the area for many years. He moved on to other states. I believe he died several years ago.

I didn't keep in contact with Theresa. I don't know the rest of her story.

I have visited Copper Falls several times over the years, making sure I stay on well marked trails.
Gram G hiking a sure path in 2011.

The 3,000 acre Copper Falls State Park is located in northern Wisconsin near the town of Mellen, a short drive south from Ashland. The highlight of the park is a dramatic, narrow, two mile-long rocky river gorge where the Bad River and its tributary, the Tyler Forks River converge and form several scenic waterfalls.