Road to Nowhere, and Back

Although both can be scary, getting lost in an officially designated wilderness area is nothing at all like getting lost in a city.

This morning, after a couple times trying and not even being able to find the back route up the mountain to get to Big Bear, I set off once again with water and my dogs. This time I may have even found the illusive county route N202, or I may have just ventured deeper into the desert and the official San Bernardino wilderness.

I’d done a bit more checking and found directions to the start of the route, so I had that going for me. Years of desert rats had deemed the trail too much for 2W pickups, but since I don’t have one of those, I figured I was good to go with my Jeep.

Which I was, at least as far as I made it.

I took off this morning thinking I might go all the way to the top but more likely I’d just go and check out part of the trail to see what it was like. The portion of it I travelled wasn’t bad at all, but I still managed to get lost.

I didn’t expect the trail would be marked, but I also didn’t expect what a few decades of those previously mentioned desert rats could do to the route. You’re not allowed to travel off road in that part of the world but at least 100 minor trails branch off the main trail and since this is the desert, any way ever taken looks the same as main road. No vegetation creeps onto the trail no matter how recently or long ago it was created.

Like I said, I didn’t expect trail markers, but I was completely unprepared for all the side trails and how much they looked just like the main road. I was doing pretty good for what I guess was a fifth or a quarter of the route, but somehow managed to lose track of where I wanted to be or thought I should be and had no idea of where I was or how I’d get back.

It was a bit unsettling, especially when the Jeep decided to overheat.

I wasn’t in fear of losing my life, but more of being uncomfortable for a prolonged length of time. By the time I admitted I was lost, I’d driven around enough to lose track of when I’d left those tire tracks and which way I’d been going. You see, maybe I’d been going in circles for half an hour or so, and a lot of the trail was bare rock, which doesn’t hold tire tracks worth a damn.

Since you’re reading this, it’s obvious that I made it back, though I can’t say how, exactly. And of course I’ll try again, and maybe next time I’ll do a bit better. In the end, it was a nice Sunday drive, other than the rising feeling of panic and hating myself.