Round in circles by John C. Street

The lengthening shadows of the late afternoon January sun were bending down the side hill when the grouse flushed from the upper branches of a hemlock and sailed clear of the little overgrown clear cut.  While my dog’s enthusiasm to give chase was still strong, mine was sagging.  This was the fourth time we had followed-up on this same bird and he was going out wilder each time. 

Still, we hadn’t moved that many birds on this day and I had a good look at the direction he flew so we took off after him, hoping that the fifth flush might be his last due to our diligence.  Twenty minutes later, however, we still hadn’t found our quarry and the fading light said it was time to call off the search on account of darkness.

If you spend enough time in the woods, sooner or later you’ll get … shall we say … slightly disoriented.  And it’s really nothing to be ashamed of because everyone who tramps around in the tall and uncut is going to get turned around.  By the time we gave up trying to flush that bird for the fifth time, I wasn’t exactly lost but I was a little confused about my exact location. 

Fortunately, there are very few places in Pennsylvania where a person can walk in a straight line for more than a couple hours without seeing signs of civilization or other easily recognized land marks like streams or rivers.  And, for the person who is truly lost (and even for folks like me who are only moderately disoriented), the trick is being able to walk in a straight line until one of these visual guides are located. 

People, according to researchers, are lopsided critters with a tendency to be either right or left hand dominant.  And one of our arms, frequently - but not always - the one attached to our dominant hand, is stronger and longer.  Same for our feet and legs. 

And if you don’t believe this, go buy a new pair of shoes.  Tell the sales clerk that you want to measure your feet to be sure of the size and watch closely as he uses that sliding device to determine your foot length.  Most people - for me it’s my left - have one foot that is nearly a half size larger than the other. 

Both this lopsidedness and our “handedness” seem to play a role in our direction of travel when walking over a long, unmarked distance. Typically, however, according to the research, 55% of the subjects tested veered to the right and 45% veered to the left.  And, since only 2% of the population are “lefties,” the direction of veer from a straight line is speculated to be controlled more by the longer - and presumably stronger - leg, than it is by our “handedness.”

Regardless of the cause, most lost people, will make a complete circle - either to the right or the left - in less than a hour.  And most lost people, if they had just stayed on a straight course, could easily walk themselves out of the woods. 

Fortunately, I was mindful of this tendency as I whistled in my pup and started back in the direction I hoped would take us to my old pickup.  I recalled from my last glimpse at the topographical map before I left my rig earlier in the day that Tionesta creek was somewhere north of me and the road where I was parked, which ran parallel to that stream for several miles, was somewhere south. 

The glow in the sky from the setting sun gave me a firm bearing so I turned until this last pinkish light was hitting the right side of my face and started to walk.  A full half hour after all useable light had faded, I stepped out on the road and the only question remaining was whether I should walk east or west.

I would probably have been a whole lot more confident of my choice if I had remembered to grab my compass before leaving the truck but even without this navigational aid I made the right choice.  For most of the afternoon I had hunted pretty much into the sun, at least all the while I had been chasing that grouse, and reasoned that I should go east once I hit the road.  

We’ve all heard stories about - or met - people who have an unerring sense of direction.  For some reason, these people have the ability to walk into a strange piece of forested territory, hunt all day and turn around at the end of shooting hours and walk directly back to their car. 

Researchers, however, claim there is no such thing as an unerring sense of direction (as, for instance, a migrating goose has) but what they have found is that there are people who are much more aware of their surroundings, the position of the sun at various times of the day, and the direction of the prevailing winds in their area. 

Although they may not consciously think about these things, they are aware of them and use this information - albeit on a subliminal level - to guide their course.  While it is still a front-brain effort for me, I do pay attention to the sun and wind and walking a straight course when I’m in unfamiliar country and, as it did on this grouse hunting trip, this information has helped me - many times - get safely out of some rather big woods.

Around 6:30 that evening (after what I guestimated to be about a three mile hike up off that last hillside), I made out the faint outline of my pickup truck several hundred yards ahead in a small parking spot beside a road culvert.  As I was unlocking the door, I was feeling pretty smug about being able to find my way back without a map or compass. 

The smugness evaporated, however, when I took one last look at the map to confirm what an “unerring sense of direction” I had and realized the little stream I had parked beside ran a nearly straight course down the last hillside where that grouse had finally made its escape; about a half mile - in crow-flight distance - from where I had parked.