Photo by Keita Senoh on Unsplash

By Will Souter

June 27, 2020, was the first time and the last time I will ever step foot into a 10-kilometre radius of my friend Ronan’s cottage. It had been the first night; we arrived around dinner following a gruesome 6-hour drive just north of Ottawa in a tiny car with so many boxes and people that it became challenging to breathe. Ronan was a good friend with whom I had attended middle school, where we became close friends. We shared similar interests, such as video games, basketball, and more video games. Ronan and I found ourselves in each other’s presence for this entire summer. So, upon receiving the invitation to his cottage, I was ecstatic. By no means did I have a bad time on the trip. It was one of the highlights of my summer; however, those 5 days I spent there would be the most reckless, delinquent, and irresponsible 5 days of my summer. That said, something that I hadn’t realized until I was placed in a similar situation almost 2 years later was that the first night of this 5-day expedition would teach me a valuable lesson about how to survive and find my way home when lost in a forest at night.

Unsurprisingly, the route of all our mischief and mayhem would always stem back to Ronan’s older brother Declan. Declan, 16 at the time, was your typical teenage troublemaker and older brother. Whether he was picking on Ronan verbally, physically or mentally, at almost any time of the day, you could find him within two feet of us brewing a joke or harassment to hurl at Ronan. However, this time it was not any form of brotherly bullying; instead, it was Ronan wanting to follow his brother that led us to trouble. Declan and a friend who will need to be called Jake for the sake of the story (I forget his name) were this time not the root of the problem; rather, it was Ronan’s irresponsibility and utter stupidity that planted the two of us alone in a forest just past midnight.

 It was the first night we had arrived at his cottage–the first night! Declan and his good friend Jake were heading a kilometre north of the cottage down a hiking path leading to a cliff overlooking the lake and some train tracks. According to Ronan, like his brother, he was a pro at directions and could lead us to this site and back with what he thought would be much ease. Ronan and I would obviously then follow the two older boys because, as a young teen, doing what the high schoolers do was the only way to be cool. This would be lesson #1 of this journey. Age does not necessarily correlate with wisdom and intelligence. The following 30 minutes would consist of an unnecessary and very annoying amount of bugs, bushes and puddles.

Upon arrival, it was revealed that although I enjoyed the view that we had worked so hard for, Ronan did not. Ronan loved to complain. He complained to his brother to let us come and now was complaining to me that we should leave. That he was an annoyance is an understatement. I was borderline furious. This little brat had convinced me to go all the way there when it was his “master” idea just to want to leave 10 minutes after arriving. This leads me to lesson #2, do not trust Ronan. If you recall, Ronan had already claimed to me that he knew his way around quite well, and there was absolutely no chance, and he was sure, no chance we would get lost. To no one’s surprise, not mine, but Ronan’s stunned face, we were now lost and alone in the forest. I was now furious, no longer borderline furious. I stomped through the forest, snapping every twig in two and stomping the leaves and pebbles into the ground. Ronan was not far behind me, whimpering and breathing down my neck. Not only was I furious, but I was also covered in bug bites. It was freezing cold. I was terrified, and most of all I could not see and was babysitting a 14-year old child. Bushes were rustling, and the wind was howling. My patience was low, and Ronan was already in tears. Every snapped twig from the weight of our feet suddenly became a 2,000-pound grizzly bear protecting itself and its two cubs while fighting for its first meals in what had to be several weeks. Turns out there were no bears, and in fact, there are no bears near his cottage. That is not what mattered at the moment. What mattered were the irrational thoughts we were sharing. We shared these thoughts of getting eaten or, worse, being lost in this tiny forest forever and ever.

We shared these thoughts of getting eaten or, worse, being lost in this tiny forest forever and ever.

We had been stuck for what felt like hours (only 10 minutes, actually), and this happened to be the one night I did not bring my phone. Ronan’s phone was running low, so our flashlight went with it. There was no service for kilometres on end; phone calls were not an option. By this point, I thought this night could not get any worse. I could not have been more wrong. The night got much, much worse. We had been using Ronan’s flashlight from his phone to dodge bushes, rocks, and any outlying logs or sticks. What I was to find out very soon was that those were not ordinary bushes. They were thorn bushes. And what was Ronan to find out? Ronan found out that behind those bushes was a large creek.

Ronan’s phone finally died, and the light followed. A maximum of 30 seconds elapsed, and I discovered my exciting new discovery. I fell back, planting my bottom not so gently into the stem of a large thorn bush, leaving me covered with minor scrapes and scratches. My legs were covered, my back was covered, my arms, also covered. If you can name the body part, it was covered. Ronan’s snickers and remarks of arrogance and stupidity made the following moments the highlight of my summer. While he was so amused that I fell into the thorn bush, and he had not, he forgot to account for the 3-metre-wide creek that was just oh so inviting for his scrawny little legs to cave into. With a splash and a little groan, my night had been complete. The pain from the bush and the fear of the bears vanished. Ronan was now the laughing stock, and I was the one howling.

Everything was okay. It was just me, Ronan, and this stupid little forest. There was nothing to worry about other than that his phone fell in the creek and would never work again. Other than that, there was actually nothing to worry about. We found Declan and Jake, we found our way back home, and most importantly, we learned what it felt like to be on one of those survival shows: alone, abandoned and scared in the forest. Like in the shows where a large camera crew was ensuring their safety, we had each other. We learned how to survive. I may have left with cuts along my whole body, and Ronan may have left without a functioning phone, but everything was okay. We were both okay in the morning. We were scolded by his parents and we both had a fantastic rest of the week.