Got a call from Joseph at around 3:30 in the afternoon telling me to head down that night instead of Wednesday morning. Following some hurried packing, I headed out just as the sun was setting (theoretically--not that I could see the sun through the eerie blankness outside). I thought for sure I was going to get lost on the way back. Geoff had told me how easily people took wrong turns and ended up on one or another of the oil pads scattered throughout the mountains. Factor in dark and fog, and the fact that I'd never driven down the road before, and the fact that driving up I'd been following Geoff, I figured that if I got lost any less than three times it would be a miracle. Miraculously, I managed the trip back to Ventura safely with nary a false turn. There were a few points where I convinced myself I was completely off the map, but then, as with the hike down Snag Ridge, I'd see the landmark equivalent of flagging tape--an oak tree here, some large fans there, a particular oil pad there--and I was reassured of my course.
My first hitch is done. I didn't die. I didn't get lost in the woods. I didn't get eaten by a bear, or bitten by a rattlesnake.
Go me.
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