Won’t Believe It. Lost Man Survived 9 Days In a Creepy Forest Alone

I couldn’t help but admire the natural beauty of the location where I was most likely going to end up dying. Salmonberry bushes surrounded the plush, mossy rock where I lay, so I ate from a buffet of berries while resting on nature’s Tempurpedic. The cuts on my knee were getting infected, and I didn’t have the energy to move, but I didn’t want to leave, anyway: The cuts were getting infected, and I didn’t have the energy to move. In the event that someone was concerned enough to look for me, I would have been able to notice approaching helicopters thanks to the area’s clear view of the sky.

On June 18, 2021, three days earlier, I went on a dayhike in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest along the Pratt River Trail. This track was completely new to me, but I wanted new scenery and some exercise to get my mind off of things. It was tough to navigate, and I walked right by some landslide debris without noticing a notice that warned me the track I was about to go on was not maintained. It was like when you’re driving on the freeway and deep in contemplation, but you end up passing your exit by accident. After ninety minutes, the path had become overgrown and thorny; considering that I was just wearing a T-shirt and shorts, I made the decision to head back the way I came. When I finally got there, however, I discovered a landscape that was entirely different from the one I remembered walking across. Nothing appeared to be the same, and I was unable to work out in which direction I should hike. After climbing to a higher vantage point, I looked for the road I had entered the area on, but all I could see was an endless jungle. It was only me by alone, and I was starting to grow hungry and cold.

After seeing a sufficient number of survival movies, I realized that it was best for me to remain in the same location throughout the night. When I was leaning against a tree, I used my long hair as a makeshift mosquito net by draping it over my face and tucking my arms and legs into my shirt. I also tucked my arms into my shirt. I went to sleep furious with myself for putting myself in such a precarious position. My fear and wrath were more palpable by the time morning arrived the following day. I had the realization once more, but this time it hit me much harder, that nobody was going to come to my assistance as the early sunlight began to filter through the trees. Even the people I was hiking with didn’t know where I was going. My own actions would determine whether or not I would live. Fear took control of me as I pushed my way through the thick undergrowth; the only thing I could think to do was keep moving. When I drove my foot through a dead log and a piece of wood wounded me right below my kneecap, that was the moment that my rage reached its boiling point and I lost control. Now, in addition to being irate, I was also bleeding and in a lot of pain. To make matters even more difficult, I fought my way through the thorns with such vigor that at some point, the water bottle that was stored in the mesh section of my backpack became dislodged. It had been removed. My morale collapsed, and inner demons seized hold.

If you were anyone else, you would have figured out how to get out of there by now. You are a complete moron. Congratulations.

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