My Hiking Adventure -- July 4, 2003

Hello

To all my fellow Americans on the subscriber list, I'd like to wish you a joyous Independence Day. This week, you'll find our bonus offer displayed to your right, and for more details, please refer to the end of this newsletter.

My Hiking Adventure

Last Sunday was an unforgettable experience for me. I embarked on a mountaineering expedition close to Mount Charleston, covering approximately 10 miles with the group. Las Vegas Mountaineers Club to Mummy's Toe. Here is a picture of it Our ascent went smoothly until we reached Mummy Springs, a part of the standard path. Notably, a botanist specializing in the area's flora was among our hikers, and to protect some endangered species around the springs, we were directed to take a flagged detour.

On our descent, our party of 13 became more dispersed. I was with a fellow hiker named Paul when we reached the detour again. At a particularly steep part, I allowed him to lead since he seemed more confident in tackling it. I attempted to follow the flags solo, but at one point, they seemed to vanish. I thought I spotted a group of four hikers to my right, leading me to venture in that direction without the flags. However, as time went on, it became apparent that I was completely alone. I realized I was lost.

At this stage, I faced three choices: I could wait in hopes of being rescued, retrace my steps in search of another group, or navigate my way back to the parking area alone and then return to the trail. I opted for the third option, partly due to my discomfort with the first two, and also thinking that the group leader might anticipate my decision and send someone to find me. My friends had a few walkie-talkies—do people still use those?—so if one person stumbled upon me, the others would be informed.

Consequently, I made my way down the mountain, reassuring myself that I would eventually reach a road. After about an hour, I spotted some rooftops and headed toward them, hoping to find a road. Sure enough, I discovered a gravel path near some abandoned cabins that eventually connected to the main road. I emerged at a location different from our parking spot, caught a ride back, and immediately set out up the trail again. About 20 minutes later, I ran into one of the other twelve hikers, who was shocked to see me. He promptly radioed the group to inform them that I was safe and the others began their descent. I then found myself recounting my humiliating tale repeatedly as our party returned in smaller groups.

But that’s not the end of it. While sharing my story, I completely forgot about my backpack which I had leaned against the rear tire of the vehicle I arrived in. This backpack held my car keys, wallet, and around $500. I admit that it’s quite a foolish amount of cash to carry while hiking, but due to our early departure, I neglected to organize my wallet before leaving home. I didn’t realize my blunder until we got back to the McDonald's in Las Vegas, where our group initially gathered and where I had parked. I asked someone who lived nearby to drive me home, but he graciously took me all the way back to Mount Charleston, a round trip of approximately an hour. Sadly, when we arrived, my backpack was nowhere to be found.

After returning home, I had my father-in-law drive me back to my car to use a spare key. I also took the precaution of canceling all my credit cards. The person who found my backpack now possessed my keys and knew my home address. That night, I ensured every light was on and kept my Glock 17 handgun securely loaded beside my bed. I held out hope that a good Samaritan would call on Monday, but I never received any news. Consequently, I arranged for a locksmith to replace all the locks on Tuesday. Given there are four doors, the $120 fee wasn’t as exorbitant as I had anticipated; he only needed to change the innards without replacing the entire locks. So I feel it’s worthwhile to commend Access Lock & Safe.

Later that afternoon, while I was out, I received a call from a Bank of America branch located in the northwestern part of Las Vegas. When I contacted them the following day, they informed me that they had my wallet and keys. I made the long journey to that branch, hoping my faith in humanity could be restored and that my cash would still be in the wallet. Unfortunately, it was not. The bank staff simply stated that someone discovered my belongings while hiking. Although my wallet’s contents were rearranged, everything appeared to be there except the cash. I suspect that someone came across my backpack as they were finishing their hike, pocketed the cash, discarded the wallet and keys into the woods, and drove off with the rest. Later, someone else found those items, noticed my Bank of America card, and brought them to the nearest branch.

While I am grateful that someone took the time to turn in my items, thus sparing me the headache of a trip to the dreaded Las Vegas Department of Motor Vehicles for a new license, my overall perception of humanity has dimmed significantly since last week. It is disappointing that while half of us are honest, integrity should be the standard for everyone. I apologize for the lengthy ramble, but it has been therapeutic to express my frustrations.

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Written by: Michael Shackleford