Thank you, good Samaritan for making my Thanksgiving truly thankful!
By Ritz
When I first arrived in the United States as a tourist
(I am a resident now), I had ample of time on my hand.
I turned to my favorite sport: hiking; a sport I thought
I was a veteran at. I had hiked the Sayadri Mountains
around Bombay, India as well as the hiker's dream- Himalayan
mountain range. I had spent about 28 days in a camp in
Manali, Himachal Pradesh. How different could hiking in
the United States be?
It was very different, as I soon discovered. I soon learned
that one called overnight hiking-'Backpacking'. It was
very organized and equipment oriented. I soon started
collecting the basic gear I would need: a sleeping bag
and a tent. In India, we either slept in a village temple
or in a cave on a mountaintop and therefore did not these
things. In Himalayan hikes, we rented this equipment from
the organizers and therefore I did not possess it. Armed
with the knowledge I had gathered during the day hikes
in this country, I arrived at the rendezvous one cold
Thanksgiving weekend in November for a two-night backpack.
To my surprise, amongst 10 individuals, I was the only
female hiker. Where are all the American women hikers
in the winter? Warm and cozy in their bed, I was told.
Only the tough ventured out in 32F and I had just become
a part of that clique. I was going backpacking in the
Susquehanna valley in Maryland. I braved the cold, mingled
with the tough American men folk and froze in my newly
acquired 40F sleeping bag. Thanks to the help from my
fellow hikers and their techniques in coping with the
cold, I survived the night.
We started early next day to tackle a long hike and an
elevation gain of 2,500 feet. The group of 10 spread over
half a mile with me steadily falling behind until I was
one of the last persons. I arrived at a junction, at what
I thought was the mountaintop and waited for my group
to follow. I had overheard the leader mention before that
once we reached the top, we had to walk down to the campsite.
When nobody showed up, I took a narrow descending trail.
After walking down for a few minutes, and not hearing
anybody, I assumed that the rest had reached the campsite.
Bravely I continued, inspite of a knee that was bothering
me. It was after 3 pm, the temperature was around 34 F
and my Indian watch unable to withstand the cold had stopped.
Soon I realized that I was lost. It was getting dark and
I was a little afraid due to the stories I had heard of
the bears living in the wild. My prime concern was to
keep walking in order to find someone or a flat piece
of ground for camping. My aching knee discouraged me from
turning back and walking uphill, back to my group. Going
downhill was always an excellent strategy. One could walk
along with the water brook and hopefully reach civilization.
This is exactly what happened.
I had already walked a couple of miles before I walked
right into a cottage of some hunter holidaymakers. Paul
Pagliani was the gentleman who rescued me from my helpless
situation. I had no clue as to where I was neither did
I know the whereabouts of my fellow hikers. He tried to
pinpoint the trail I was at and the possible location
of other hikers. I did not have a map, and neither did
I know the name of the trails or the location of the campsite.
Paul followed the standard practice of approaching the
Fire Warden of the park. The Fire Warden transmitted the
news about my being lost and then found, to all the rangers
in the park. And I proceeded to spend the night in the
warmth of a motel.
When I did not show up at the true mountaintop, the leader
of my hiking group arrived at the conclusion that I was
lost. They searched for me in vain. Soon they decided
to proceed to a ranger station to report that I was lost.
Of course, they were delighted when they heard that I
had been found. Meanwhile, the weather had turned nasty
with rain and sleet. They decided to call the rest of
the hike off and proceeded to a motel.
The biggest point this incident drove home was the difference
in the people in the country of my birth and the country
of my choice. Americans are a happy race, willing to help
others. Thank you, Good Samaritan for making my Thanksgiving
truly thankful!
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