> inventory
You are carrying an orienteering pamphlet, a letter and a note.

> read note
From: MapMan@servtech.net
Date: 24 December 2000 20:06:08 EST
Subject: Mystery Flags in Lakeshore
To: Orienteering Club Members
I received a call today from a hiker who mentioned that he saw an orange and white nylon flag and some surveyor's tape in Lakeshore last weekend. Are these ours? The park rangers don't like litter. If anyone has a chance to see if they can find these items and retrieve them, let me know.

> south
You walk south.
The path is narrow. Pine branches brush your shoulders. Pine needles cushion your steps. The shelter is north or you can continue along the path southeast.

> se
You walk southeast.
Descending a steep hill, the path is little more than a rut bisected by treacherous roots. Your foot slides. You nearly fall. You wish you had brought your walking stick. The path runs northwest to southeast.

> se
You walk southeast.
At the bottom of the hill the path forks, going east and south. The path runs back up the slope to the northwest.

A gray squirrel digs through the leaves beside the path, oblivious to your presence..

> east
You walk east.
The trail runs along a steep hill. In a few months, in the spring, the trail will be mud. Now the mud has been hardened by frost. A few tracks reveal whatever animal passed through here on the last warm day. You can walk west or follow the bend to the southeast. To the northeast there is a gap in the steep hill.

> ne
You walk northeast.
You are at the mouth of what orienteers refer to as a reentrant, a kind of small valley cut into the side of a hill The top of the reentrant is to the northeast. The trail is to the southwest.

Everything here seems still, sheltered from the wind, quiet. It seems to you a soothing place, beyond the reach of the world. Ridiculous of course, since the highway is a few minutes walk.

> ne
You walk northeast.
The ground rises sharply and the gap in the hills narrows. A large log, the remains of a fallen tree, blocks your way. You can return southwest to the bottom of the reentrant. The lingering twilight floods the top of the reentrant with a rusty glow.

> x log
The fallen tree nearly spans the narrow top of the reentrant. It has begun to crumble into the leaf mould, well on its way to becoming an earth mound. It is splotched with moss like practically everything else in these woods. A few tough, spikes which used to be limbs, protrude. A ribbon is on the rotted log.

> get ribbon
You take the ribbon.

You hear your name spoken. It seems. But when you turn no one is there.

> sw
You walk southwest.
You are at the mouth of what orienteers refer to as a reentrant, a kind of small valley cut into the side of a hill The top of the reentrant is to the northeast. The trail is to the southwest.

Everything here seems still, sheltered from the wind, quiet. It seems to you a soothing place, beyond the reach of the world. Ridiculous of course, since the highway is a few minutes walk.

Suddenly there is a hazy figure in front of you. A gaunt and hollow-eyed old woman. No, a younger woman. Not unlike Beth when she was younger.She seems to reach out her hand, as if inviting you to come with her. Where? Back to the time when you were happy together? But that world is in the past, unreachable.

The figure seems to sigh and begins to dissipate. You realize you are staring into a whorl of fog which glows dimly in the twilight. It was only your imagination. Just wishful thinking.

> sw
You walk southwest.
The trail runs along a steep hill. In a few months, in the spring, the trail will be mud. Now the mud has been hardened by frost. A few tracks reveal whatever animal passed through here on the last warm day. You can walk west or follow the bend to the southeast. To the northeast there is a gap in the steep hill.

> se
You walk southeast.
The frozen swamp presents a bleak picture. Here and there grassy hillocks are interspersed with dead trees. At the edge, cattails rattle in the breeze. There is a wooden post here. The swamp is impassable. You can reach the trail by walking northwest. Nearby stands a dead sapling. Also here is a dead sapling.

> x sapling
The swamp must have choked the life out of this sapling long ago. It is devoid of branches and bark, nothing more than a straight stick, hardly as tall as you. It looks dry and brittle.

> break sapling
The sapling breaks off near the bottom with a startlingly loud crack that echoes in the cold still air. You are left holding a long, straight stick.

A few snowflakes dance erratically in the cold air.

> nw
You walk northwest.
The trail runs along a steep hill. In a few months, in the spring, the trail will be mud. Now the mud has been hardened by frost. A few tracks reveal whatever animal passed through here on the last warm day. You can walk west or follow the bend to the southeast. To the northeast there is a gap in the steep hill.

> west
You walk west.
At the bottom of the hill the path forks, going east and south. The path runs back up the slope to the northwest.

A gray squirrel digs through the leaves beside the path, oblivious to your presence..

The snow begins to come down harder. Strange, you don't recall any snow in the forecast, not that you've been paying much attention to such things today. Beth never did like the unpredictable weather here. She will probably take the kids elsewhere now.

> south
You walk south.
A few planks form a bridge over a narrow stream. The path curves to the southwest where you see a glimmer of water through thick hemlocks. The fork in the path is to the north.

> sw
You walk southwest.
The path runs along a frozen pond which sits at the bottom of a bowl in the hills, a depression scooped out by glacial action thousands of years ago. As it curves around the pond to the west, the path dwindles to a treacherous track along the base of the steep hill. The bridge lies to the northeast.

The big, wet flakes seem actually to be sticking to the ground now. Did you miss a storm report? As the driving snow begins to blot out the last of the twilight the park begins to seem like a wilderness. You're only a few minutes away from the shelter, and yet. . .

> west
You walk west.
The path runs from west to northwest but it's more like a narrow deer track than a path and unlike a deer you don't have four feet.

The snow diminishes and stops as suddenly as it began .At least you've had some luck today.

You slip on the fresh snow. As you get up, brushing yourself off, you see your wallet has fallen. You wondered where that was. It must've slipped down into the lining of your worn-out jacket again.

> nw
Using the walking stick you manage to balance yourself and continue.

At this end of the pond there is a gap in the hills, partly blocked by a boulder. The path is southeast. Thick laurel fills the gap, just beyond the boulder. Fresh snow clings to the boulder. Also here is a faded orienteering flag.

> get flag
You take the orienteering flag.

A squall comes out of nowhere. A groaning wind gust whirls dry leaves into the air and whips stinging ice crystals across your face. The woods around you vanish in an instant behind an impenetrable wall of whiteness.

This time the squall doesn't diminish immediately. The snow is coming so fast and heavy it might be a blizzard. Before you've taken five steps you're engulfed, half-blinded, disoriented. You stumble forward. You have to get back to the shelter.

You struggle through the blizzard. Branches you never see scratch your face. You fall, get up. You're not even sure if you're still on the trail.

> north
You walk north.
You can barely see through the blinding snow but it seems you have made it back to where the path forks to the east and south and runs back up the slope to the northwest.

> nw
You walk northwest.
This must be the steep slope leading back to the shelter. Now it is slick with fresh snow. You slide, scrabble in a drift, trying to grab hold of a root, a rock, anything to pull yourself up. No good.

You lose your footing and go over backwards.

You're not sure whether you hit a limb or smack your head on the frozen ground. You find yourself sitting, stunned, engulfed in a blur of white. As you climb to your feet you see the snow has stopped.

You are in a birch grove. Strange, you don't remember seeing birch trees in the park. You are lost in shades of white. The ankle deep snow, tinged with pale blue, as if reflecting a sky you can't see, the trunks of the birches silvery, and all around a pure white fog of snow, or mist. The air nearby is filled with floating, scintillating motes, ice crystals, a frozen fog. There is no clear way out. You know that you can't go in any direction in which the fog might start to thicken because then you would be utterly lost.

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

> wait
Time passes...

A sudden chill sighs through the birches and a hazy shape forms in the mist, undulating, disintegrating and coalescing like a reflection on windblown water. There is something almost human about it. It dissipates into ragged tatters that seem to be carried away by a stray air current. You have lost all sense of direction. But it seemed almost that the ghostly shape was beckoning you to follow. Follow a ghost?

> follow ghost
You decide to go in the direction the misty shape went, although you have no idea what direction that might be.

The phantom appears again, more fully formed, a woman, almost familiar, mist and memories, beckoning you to follow.

> follow ghost
Again you decide to go in the same direction as the phantom. You find yourself on a massive outcropping of rock . Only a few withered and twisted birches cling here. A biting wind has scoured the snow, revealing patches of moss. From one side of the outcropping a twisted path, a stairway of roots and ledges, leads upward. Beyond the outcropping, far below, you can see the glint of black water, a pool. The ghost is a vague undulating shape. No matter where you turn it seems to be in front of you, blocking your way.

> talk to ghost
Do you think I resemble Beth? The dead are all alike. And what about the young man she married? Do you suppose he is any more alive? The ghost pauses. You sense it wants to continue.

> talk to ghost
You know the young man you once were is dead as well, along with all his dreams. They do not belong to the world you have come to. What a long hard journey to reach such a cold place. For a moment the echoes of words cease but you realize the ghost has more to tell you.

> talk to ghost
Look at the pool -- you won't find it on a map. It was here when you were younger, in that world where everything you planned would have come true, where you left all your dreams. And it is here now, an easy step down. But, of course, you can always go up the path and back to your life. The ghost seems to flicker. Does it wish to talk more?.

> talk to ghost
The ghost continues to hover but seems to have nothing more to say. Where the mouth had moved there is only a formless shadow.

The ghost moves, floats out over the outcropping. A tatter of fog seems to gesture to you, then the mist dissipates into sparkling motes which drift toward the black water and vanish.

The choice the ghost gave you echoes in your mind. Up or down.

> up
You take one last look toward the enticing black pool. You hesitate. Then you place your foot on the path leading up the crumbling cliff.

By the time you reach the top you've reoriented yourself. The shelter, you realize, is nearby. You must have been hallucinating. Probably a result of stress, the lingering twilight, the snow.

There isn't any way to return to the past and no way to halt the advance of time, except by dying. That's what you tell yourself. But you keep thinking about the pool as you walk back through the cold toward rest of the life you've got yourself into.