I'll bet there are a number of elk hunters that can relate. I know I can. My brother-in-law and his friend got saddled with baby-sitting me when I first started elk hunting. We were up by Monarch Pass, got into dark timber and the elk. All that hoof-thundering and branch breaking startled the s$%^ out of me. We decided to walk in a line three abreast with about 30 yards between us. I was concentrating so hard on not letting the elk scare me again, that I must have not taken the route I was supposed to. The next thing I knew I was on the other side of the mountain. Lucky thing was that I broke out into a clear side of the hill, and could see the road down below. Not knowing where I was, I knew that a road meant safety, and headed for it. I knew that camp was uphill, so I started trudging up the road. We started that hunt at daybreak, and my dad and uncle finally found me at three in the after noon. I wasn't afraid, because if you find a road, you can get back, but I started thinking I might have to spend the night there.