Does being completely lost in the dark count as creepy?
I've lived most of my life in East Tennessee's mountains and ridges, where major land forms provide an ready sense of basic direction and make it pretty difficult to get really turned around. When I was 16, though, my dad and brothers and I drew permits for a shotgun hunt at AEDC--very flat country by comparison. One of my Dad's friends (we'll call him Bob) made a trip there to scout one afternoon and let me ride along. After he scouted his areas, he drove me to a creek that I thought looked good on the topo map. It was close to sunset when I hopped out, and Bob kicked his seat back to nap while I looked for my spot. I took only my pocket knife, flagging tape, and canteen. The woods were wet and I wasn't going far, so I left my old paper topo map in the dry truck.
The gravel road was bordered by rows of scrubby planted pine trees so dense I had to turn sideways to push through them. When I popped out into the hardwoods after about 15 yards, the road was almost completely hidden. But the creek or stream was only 100 yards away and ran fairly parallel to the road. It provided the only significant variation in the flat land around me.
While I explored downstream, clouds blew in and the temperature dropped enough that my short sleeves were a bit cool. Then it started to drizzle. I started back up the creek as dusk settled. But the cloud cover brought darkness much sooner than expected, and I knew I would not get back to the place I started before complete darkness. I decided that I should return to the road while there was still enough gloom to see trees and shapes around me, then road walk back to the truck. I left the creek bed at right angles to its basic direction of travel and stumbled through the hardwoods to the planted pines bordering the road.
It was nearly pitch black when I headed into the dense, young pines. After pushing through for about 40 paces, I was soaked but had not hit gravel. I kept going after another 40 steps or so, I knew something was wrong. I stopped, shivered, and tried to figure it out. I knew not to to turn at all from the direction I was facing lest I lose all sense of direction. I didn't think I was walking in circles, but I grabbed the longest straight stick I could find and walked with it threading through the pines to reduce any tendency to make slight turns.
After 10 more minutes of pushing through the trees, I had a bad feeling of being completely disoriented and unable to fathom how a narrow strip of pines had turned into an unending thicket. What was going on?? Then I heard the soft, muffled sound of a car/truck horn. Presumably Bob was honking for my sake--but it was coming from way behind me! I could not figure out what was happening. How was Bob in the opposite direction I was headed? Or maybe that wasn't Bob, but someone else or even some other road far away? If I tried to start toward it but it did not honk again, would I just be even more turned around and lost?
While trying to think and un-spook myself, I caught a faint glimmer of moving light ahead and to my right. I could not hear anything over the rain, but a few more glimpses through the pines showed them passing off my right side and disappear. It had to be a moving vehicle. I turned 90 degrees and started in that direction. And after a couple minutes I stumbled into the gravel road.
I turned right and walked nearly a quarter mile back to the truck. Shortly before I found the truck, the road curved far to the left--a fact I had completely overlooked before heading into the woods. When I looked at my old topo later, I realized that by exiting the creekbed early I had bypassed the curve in the road. Although it was too new to be marked on the map, the pine thicket I entered was an entire plantation, not just a road border. I had been close to the road, but traveling almost parallel to it and working deeper into the pine plantation that whole time. Things could have been bad that night if I had driven myself there or I was just a little farther from the road when that one set of headlights came past.
That was the last time I went into large or unfamiliar woods without map, compass, rain jacket, and some kind of light.