7 (or 8) Of the Most Circuitous Miles This Side of the Arc de Triomphe

I've never been great with directions. Put me on a straight 1-mile-long road--and yes, I will get lost. The first year I ran with Dana-Farber, I went to a first-timer's meeting that was 4 miles from my apartment. It took me nearly and hour and a half, and two different towns, plus a project, to get there.

My better half, on the other hand, seems to be a whiz with directions. Here is an approximate of our conversation on Friday afternoon:

Scene: The Fells
Props: Jared's sweet new mountain bike
Players: Jared, a handsome and brilliant directional tactician, mountain biker and trail runner; Abby, a trail runner whose sense of direction is best described as "challenged"

Jared (about to jump on mountain bike for a 6-mile jaunt o'er root and rock): So how far are you going to go?
Abby (about to embark on The Incredible Journey, sans talking domestic pets): I don't know, probably two loops.*
Jared: So you'll be back here in 45 minutes or so?
Abby: Better plan for an hour, in case I get lost.
Jared: No, no. You just need to not turn left where we usually turn left, then go left by the place we went right on Tuesday, and then make sure the water's on your left.**
Abby: Er, Ok...if I'm not back in two hours, come find me.

Well, you can imagine what happened. I didn't turn left where I was supposed to turn left, I missed the other turn completely, and was nearly run over by some mountain bikers (who turned out to be very polite, and not at all murderous in intent). Though I tried to keep the water on my left, I lost it for a couple miles in the middle. Despite recognizing that it was the worst thing I could possibly do, I followed my instincts, and turned onto the paths it told me to turn onto. Bad idea.

At a particularly confusing fork in the trails, I decided I had to face the facts--I had no idea where I was. So, in the middle of the woods, with no idea of direction but for up and down, I asked for directions. The biker, who seemed friendly at first, turned out to be a bit of a sadist, something I realized while gasping my way up the too-familiar Skyline Trail, albeit on a route I'd never seen before.

Upon arriving at the bottom of the other side of the trail, I realized that, despite my efforts (in both admitting my folly and in climbing that damned vertical monster), I was no better off. I had no idea where I was. With my hour of time dwindling, I knew I needed to hustle it back to the predetermined meeting point, or my beloved would a.) start worrying, and worse, b.) realize I'd gotten hopefully lost, and quite possibly tease me mercilessly.

Luckily I happened upon a woman with a stroller and a dog, who pointed me in what turned out to be the right direction. I arrived back at the car in around 57 minutes, to find Jared packing up the bike, and ready to run another 2 miles.

And this time I had my navigator with me.

*Note: About 5-6 miles
**Note: What Abby actually heard was, "Don't turn where we usually turn, turn the wrong way where we turned the other way that one time, then make a loop in the shape of an origami crane. Take two lefts by the tree that looks like a coffee mug handle, a right by the stump, the one after the 3.5 other stumps, make a cloverleaf by the trail that breaks five directions, then keep the water on your left."