My hiking buddy Liz and I decided to go hiking at Muskegon State Park yesterday. The sun was out and, for a Michigan January day, the temps were mild. I just met Liz in a Hikerbabes community on Facebook. She has recently moved to the Grand Rapids area, and I’m still in the friend-making zone in Southwest Michigan. It’s been fun exploring a new friendship and having someone to hike with who is dog-friendly and eager to get outdoors in Michigan.
We parked at Snug Harbor and decided to hike around Muskegon Lake and end up on the Ridge Trail to catch some glorious views. There was snow on the ground, and it was fun to catch glimpses of the ice fisherman on the lake. The lake wasn’t frozen through. In fact, at the edge near our start, there was open water. We couldn’t believe people would actually hike out on that ice and fish when it seemed likely some of it was not frozen. But those concerns came from a Southern girl and a Midwestern city girl with no ice fishing knowledge. Maybe we just didn’t get it.
Our hiking conversation turned to binge-watching Sex and the City, the travesties and adventures of online dating and the challenges and joys of being footloose and fancy-free during a pandemic. Ashok patiently hiked along with us enjoying the shoreline ice and grateful when we stopped to take in a view. The sun was warming, and the snow was deep enough to be pretty but not deep enough to cause us issues.
As we left the shoreline, we opted to hike across the dunes off-trail. To be honest, we spent our time trying to avoid steep climbs rather than following the trail, and we were doing pretty well. We finally meandered to the top of the dunes. The views were amazing. Muskegon Lake was clearly visible, and to our right Lake Michigan glimmered in the sun. We ran into a few other groups and started to head back on the easy trail.
I reached to grab my phone for a picture, and it was not there. I tried every pocket. It was not there. I even tried pockets I would have never used hoping for some dumb reason I had stashed it there. Somewhere among the dating stories and the worry about the ice fisherman, I had dropped my iPhone. And a quick run back a few yards told me it wasn’t close by.
I was so embarrassed. I thought back to how we hiked across the dunes sans trail. The piles of snow and sand behind us stretched for what seemed like miles. Images of trekking across the Sahara desert flashed through my mind. They were quickly overtaken by estimates of how much it would cost to replace my phone and a search of my memory of whether or not I’d bought the insurance.
Liz asked if I had had “Find my iPhone” turned on, and I did. We tried to sign me in, but it kept asking for the verification code they just texted me. Well, if I had my phone to get a text I wouldn’t be trying to find it. Somehow security has gotten so ridiculous that it doesn’t even make sense anymore. Somewhere in the sand and snow a text landed on my phone with a code that I needed. We tried calling my phone in the hopes it was nearby and could be heard. It wasn’t.
We ended up calling Apple. It took about 30 minutes to get through as we walked across the sand trying to catch a glimpse the tracks of a pair of humans and one dog. The agent across the world sent us back to the webpage, but we got the same result. He did something on his end, and we were finally able to get through. So now we had a visual of my phone, and it appeared it was back in the car. That really would have been embarrassing, but I knew I had my phone when I took pictures earlier. Nothing seemed to be working out. We decided the best thing to do was to at least go back to the shoreline and hope I dropped it back there.
Lake Michigan sand dunes are challenging to climb. They are towering piles of sand that are not incremental in their rise. You can go in between the dunes to some extent, but you have to climb. When you climb these steep piles of sand, it shifts beneath your feet. And when you descend, you slide. At one point we both fell down trying to get up one of the dunes. And I slid down one on my butt. By the time we were out of the dunes, our legs and our glutes were toast. We finally made it back to the place where I took the last picture but found no phone. In fact, we never even found our trail. It was disheartening.
I had accepted the fact that I would not find my phone. I was just going to have to cough up the money and get a new phone. I knew if I got bent out of shape about it, it wouldn’t help. Then Liz realized my phone was not located back at the car. Once we got to the lake, the GPS shifted and it looked totally different. Or maybe we were looking at it wrong. Whatever the case, we had a lock on the location now. It was back in the dunes, and we were on the way back to the car. But with a location and what looked like a road that got us close to it, we had a glimmer of hope.
We got back to the car and drove over to this road. I offered to come back today. I didn’t want to make her hunt for it, and I felt bad about all of this drama. But she said she was determined to find this phone, and we were going to do it. We both decided it was an adventure, and it was going to have a happy ending. Even if I ended up buying a shiny new phone, we were going to have fun doing it.
So we spent the next hour navigating through the forest and over the dunes trying to find that little dot in the middle of the sand dunes. If we could find our trail, we surely could find that phone. Up and down dunes, around and through grass and trees we searched. We laughed about talking with that agent on the other side of the planet while we were standing in the wilderness. We shared stories of things lost and found. And we despaired and we searched. Sometimes the GPS freaked out and put us in the middle of Lake Michigan. Then it would straighten itself out. And our little GPS dot kept getting closer to the iPhone dot. Finally we were really close. We climbed over the top of a dune, and I spotted our trail. There were dog prints and at least two sets of people prints. Liz went one way, and I went the other. Not 100 yards away, I saw my trusty iPhone lying facedown in the snow.
It WAS an adventure. Our feet hurt and our muscles were starting to get sore. We were both starving and had long drives back home. But we were both so happy to have utilized our technology and our wits to find that phone. We even thought about calling our helper in India and telling him we found it.
Driving home I reflected on my day and what I could learn from this little adventure. I thought of my current job search. The number of options I have feels a bit like a lost iPhone in miles of sand dunes. I literally could make a hundred different choices and none of them would be wrong. Much like we traversed the dunes, I’ve opted to go off trail this time. I’ve used technology, my friends and other resources to help me navigate. I often question my decisions and wonder whether or not I will find my way. I’m getting closer to that dot of where I will land, but I also know that if I don’t get there – wherever there is – I will be okay. I may have to spend more money, and I may have to try something new, but, whatever happens, it will be an adventure. And, whatever happens, I will handle it.