There’s something about the sunrise, the way it spreads an almost intangible wave of warmth and serenity, that Hector loved. The cold chill of night finally washes away and the countless droplets of dew shine like glitter cast about on every point and surface.

The dawn was especially welcome to Hector as he continued his long hike. Mountains rose and fell in every direction as far as he could see. Valleys and streams cut through the rocks and left almost no level ground in sight. A lake glinted in the morning light, lying between the ridge Hector was on and the next one over.

“Now let’s see here,” he said and he pulled out his map and compass.

The wind on the ridge could be fierce at times but for now it was calm and Hector took advantage of that fact to lay the map out flat on the ground so he could better get his bearings. He turned his compass slightly to line it up and make sure he was, in fact, facing his map in the right orientation. Though even without the compass he had the sun that he could use to determine the cardinal directions.

“I need to hike along this ridge,” he said and walked with his fingers across the map, “then cut down into that valley there. Then I can follow along until it splits and I can follow the western arm.”

He checked out his path a little further and once he was satisfied with his chosen route for the day he packed his map back into his pack and set off yet again. He lived for these long hikes when he could just be alone with his thoughts. It was in these times that he felt the most alive and at peace. Four days in the wilderness and he would be ready and recharged for getting back to the office and sitting behind his desk for another few months. Then he’d set out again for one of his hikes. It didn’t matter the weather, he just needed to get out here and explore from time to time.

While he hiked he munched on the dried fruits, nuts, and jerky that would serve for his breakfast. Eating too much dried food could be disastrous and so he always made sure to pack some fresh produce and meats in his pack that would keep well enough for the duration of his hike. Those he usually used for his dinners though. He always preferred to get up and going as soon as he was awake. As for water, he carried a few canteens with him that he refilled each time he crossed any of the numerous streams. He of course made sure to filter the water, or at least boil it, before putting it into his canteens. He’d experienced first hand what could happen if he didn’t properly treat the mountain water before drinking it and he had no desire to repeat it.

From time to time Hector looked away from the ridge he was hiking along to glance down into the lake below. It was a beautiful lake, with crystal blue water and a small collection of islands in its center. It looked terribly inviting, and yet it troubled him. Ever since he’d seen it the day before he’d been bothered by it. The reason for his discomfort was that the lake wasn’t on his map. The ridges and valleys all seemed to line up correctly, and the rivers and streams, but this lake was either very new or the map was wrong.

Sometimes, mountain lakes would form briefly when the runoff from the snow melt in the spring and summer would overcome the capacity of the streams they fed, but this lake looked far too large to be one of those. It was also too late in the season for most lakes to still be around. Other times, landslides could block a stream like a natural dam, but there was no evidence of such a slide that Hector could see.

In the most rare of occasions that Hector had heard of, map makers would include intentional errors in their maps so they could copyright them. How or why that was the case he didn’t know but he had heard of maps containing small roads or towns that didn’t really exist, usually in far off and remote locations to avoid causing too many issues for those people who used their maps.

Hector put the worry out of his mind. No map was perfect and so far this one had lead him along just fine. He pulled out his camera and snapped a photo of the lake below.

“Mystery Lake,” he said to himself with a laugh.

As the sun rose higher the winds began to pick up. He had a few more miles to go along this ridge before he would reach the valley he would cut down into and as the winds buffeted him he had to lean hard to the one side to keep his footing. His grin widened with each new gust that tried to push him from the ridge. It was this sort of challenge, man against nature, that he loved. He knew plenty of other hikers who did the same thing, but he also knew many others who would move down a ways onto the sheltered side of the ridge to get out of the wind.

There was no real middle ground up there in the mountains when it came to the elements. When it was cold, it was bitterly cold, and when it was hot, it was sweltering. As he pressed ahead, the fabric of his jacket whipping about, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud against the howling wind.

“Yeah!” he shouted, “Come on!”

He was almost sad when the valley came into view. He didn’t want the challenge of the ridge to come to an end so soon. It wasn’t even midday yet and he was making good time. Perhaps he could stay along the ridge a bit longer, cut down into the next valley. He was halfway to taking off his pack to dig out his map again when he stopped and shook his head.

“No, Hector,” he chided himself, “stick to the plan.”

The route he’d laid out that morning was the right one to take and he knew going off on some other path could prove disastrous. Before leaving he’d identified a few known routes that other hikers had taken and he’d more or less been sticking to those routes. Hector liked adventure, but blazing entirely new trails required more equipment and supplies than he had brought. The last thing he needed was to go a day or so on some new path only to find the terrain too rough or wild for him to continue and then have to back track.

As he began to descend into the valley the winds began to die down almost at once and the temperature began to rise. He unzipped his jacket and took off his hat and gloves and before long he was wiping sweat from his forehead. The wind had its drawbacks, certainly, but so did calm air. Without the harsh hinds, the brambles along the valley sides grew dense and would snag on Hector as he made his way down. Every once in a while he’d spot some wild berries and wonder if they were edible. Some day he hoped to be able to identify them all and be even more capable out in the wilds, but for now he just enjoyed looking and wondering. He satisfied his stomach with a handful of dried fruit and a granola bar, washed down with some water.

He was starting to run a little low on water when he reached the valley and had been planning on refilling his canteens in the stream that ran along the bottom but when he got there, there was no stream to be found.

Hector frowned. Some valleys had only season streams but the map had said there was suppose to be a stream here that should be running year round.

“Maybe another intentional mistake?” Hector thought aloud before continuing onward.

The branching valley that he was aiming for next would have a stream for sure and he would be fine on water until then. Still, the second error in the map made him wonder as he made his way through the brambles and scrub trees that grew along the valley floor.

The sun continued to climb across the sky and Hector was grateful for the shade provided by the high valley walls, as well as the trees. He wanted to take off his jacket and stow it away in his pack but he was making good time and he hated pausing for anything that wasn’t necessary. He’d be fine for the next couple hours and then the temperature would begin to drop again and he’d just have to stop and pull out his jacket.

As he walked he kept looking for the branch in the valley on his right hand side. On his left there were several branching valleys but he wasn’t going in that direction. With how dense the trees and brambles were at times, he wouldn’t be able to see it until he was practically level with it. He had expected to reach it after only a couple hours in the valley, but as the day wore on, and he still hadn’t reached it, he began to wonder if he’d missed it, or perhaps misjudged the distance. But how could he miss it? He was watching for it all the time and he could easily see the valley wall to his right and it hadn’t dipped or split in any way that would signify an intersecting valley.

By the time the sun was beginning to go down in earnest, Hector was starting to worry. Perhaps the map had been wrong, or perhaps he’d been reading it wrong? Either way he needed to get his bearings again. He turned to his right and began marching up and out of the valley. From that ridge line he would have a clear view of the terrain and could compare it with the map to see what was really going on.

It was a hard climb. He hadn’t stopped all day to rest and since he hadn’t been able to refill his canteens he’d been drinking less water than he would normally have done. Muscles ached and burned as he hurried upward. He needed to have good light to make out the terrain and judging from the fading sky he only had another hour of good light to see by.

At the top of the ridge he was greeted once more by the wind. This time Hector did not smile into it and instead he slung his pack off his back and then sat down with his back towards the wind to shelter himself from the winds while he dug his map out.

Hector froze. The pouch where he stored his map was already open. He must not have remembered to shut it properly that morning. Or maybe it had caught on something while he was walking. All he knew for certain was that the pouch flap wasn’t shut tight and, as he peered into the pouch his worst fears were confirmed: the map was gone.

“No,” Hector gasped.

He dug around in the pouch, hoping against hope that it was somehow in there, hidden behind the flashlight and spare batteries.

Nothing.

He briefly considered backtracking to retrace his steps but as he looked out at the far side of the valley he was reminded of the several other branching valleys he’d seen on that side and wondered how he would ever remember which ridge he had come down off of. And besides, the map had probably been blown out of the pack while he was in the wind and if that was the case there was no telling where his map would be now.

“Well,” Hector said a little shakily as the worry began to turn into fear, “I need to head West as best I can. The old highway is over there, even if I miss the trail head and the ranger station. Not a lot of traffic on that road but enough that I should be able to get picked up.”

It wasn’t much of a plan. The highway was a winding path that was sometimes closer and sometimes further away from where he figured he was. He had a couple days worth of food still and as long as he could find a stream he would be okay for water.

“You always said you wanted adventure,” Hector teased himself and then set off back down into the valley to set up camp for the night.

He’d have to wait and see what the next day would bring.