[12/12/04] I got lost once in my parents’ back yard.

It’s not as bad as it sounds. Their “yard” is actually woods, and it’s not the house where I grew up.

I’m not saying that I’m directionally challenged, but sometimes I get lost. Usually I don’t mind.

I did teach myself a long time ago how not only to read a map but how to follow the sun’s path. In case I get lost. Not that that happens too often.

In any area I live, I learn the landmarks, both geographic and manmade, that can help me find my bearings if I get lost.

I also try to memorize the names and numbers of roads and highways. In case I get lost. Not that I do.

Sometimes I lose myself on purpose, so I can learn my way around an area. And, then, sometimes I make bad decisions based on faulty information. That’s when I find myself wondering where in the world exactly I am.

Besides my parents’ yard, I have lost my way on foot and by car in South Alabama, Toronto, the Florida Panhandle, Clay County, southern Ontario, Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia and Mexico City and those are just the memorable times.

Now, I can add Zachary, La. to the list.

I wasn’t trying to get lost this night. I just wanted to get home to Vicksburg.

See, I think when I see a sign that says “61” in big, black letters, I am safe to take it.

I don’t count on the splits and veers.

That’s how I found myself on a road closed to through traffic long after dark last week. All I knew is that I was somewhere just north of Baton Rouge. Or maybe northeast. It was too dark for me to gauge where I was in relation to the river.

I was truly lost.

When I get lost, I try to see it through. I don’t like asking for directions; it’s weak. So I drove on in the darkness on a road that had no white lines. I scanned the horizon looking for some sign of light.

I didn’t panic but I was really tired, and didn’t have the patience for losing my way for long.

There was never a sign welcoming me to Zachary. But I saw the comforting vision of a brightly lit gas station and a four-way intersection with a traffic light.

I pulled in, wondering how stupid I was going to sound asking, “Where am I?” Fortunately, I saw a newspaper rack for The Zachary Plainsman.

I bought a coffee, two newspapers and said, “I’m lost. How do I get back on 61?”

The cute, little dark-haired girl behind the counter looked lost herself as she said, “I don’t know…I don’t know the names of anything.”

Fortunately, her co-worker pointed me where I needed to go, and I was back on my way in just a few minutes.

The day I got lost in my parents’ woods it was December, and I had decided to go for a walk to think. I walked deep into it and didn’t take into account that there is a ravine that runs along the back of their property. I got ready to head back and kept getting blocked by the ravine. I realized I was walking in circles. I’ve never felt so lost.

I could hear the neighbor’s dogs barking. I knew I was close but the sun was starting to set. I got a little frantic. Finally, I sat down on a stump for a few minutes and considered my options: I could starve in the woods a quarter of a mile from my mother’s back door or I could get up and walk and find my way out.

I got up, picked a direction, put one foot in front of the other until I found their driveway.

There’s a time for walking, but sometimes you just need to sit on a stump.

Sonya Kimbrell is features editor of The Vicksburg Post. E-mail her at skimbrell@vicksburgpost.com.