News & Observer | newsobserver.com | 2008 NCAA Men's Bracket

Last night I was in the Durham REI doing pre-sale recon when I spotted a Life is Good shirt that made me pick up the phone and call Marcy. "I'm looking at a shirt that I'm guessing could be under the tree for me on Christmas. It says, 'Get Lost.'" She agreed that it had my name on it, all right. Two hours later I was solidifying my claim on the shirt.

Two or three times a month during the year's cooler stretches, Alan and I do a night hike. Usually, we stick to trails we know, trails we've hiked in daylight, trails that are less likely to throw us a curve. (A major, roundhouse curve, that is; We're constantly whiffing on our night hikes but have proven adept at recognizing when the soft ground and knee-deep leaf litter suggest we've strayed from our intended path.)

Last night's hike was a combination of known trail and going where no 52-year-old man named Joe or 56-year-old man named Alan had gone before. The known — the 2.5-mile Laurel Bluffs Trail along the Eno River (Pump Station section of Eno River State Park) — went smoothly. It was when we got to Guess Road and the transition to Lewis & Clark territory that we became wayfinding challenged.

Now, our problems here are severalfold. First, I didn't take a map. I know, what kind of nimrod doesn't take a map into uncharted territory (let alone a nimrod who purports to write guidebooks)? Nor did I even look at a map beforehand (not that would have helped; more on that in a moment). And there was the whole night-hiking-it-before-day-hiking-it thing. And, if you want to get picky, there's the night hiking in general, since, technically, both parklands — state and Durham — close at sunset. All I knew was that the Eagle Trail existed and that it ran from Guess Road 1.8 mile downstream through West Point on the Eno city park to Roxboro Road. But where it began off Guess Road was a mystery.

Right along the river off Guess Road, was a house. That made exploring the residence's perimeter for a trail opening iffy, considering it was dark, we were dressed darkly, and we were prowling around with headlamps. Besides, I seemed to remember from discussions with folks who had hiked the trail that it departed from the stream midway and followed a ridgeline.

We continued up Guess Road. We started into a small powerline clear cut: no luck. We found a sign strangled by vines and ivy announcing that this was city parkland, but no sign of a trail. We walked passed another house, this one resembling Norman Bates' place. We picked up our pace. After a quarter mile, we hung a right on Lebanon Circle and were shortly on the campus of Easley Elementary.

"Bet there's at least a spur trail up to the school," I said as we probed the woods surrounding an ample play field.

"No way," said Alan. "It would be a way for predators to get on campus."

We found no spur and our one attempt to reach an adjoining neighborhood closer to the river through a stand of trees was thwarted when we found ourselves emerging into a backyard dominated by dog runs. High-fenced, well-fortified runs suggesting high-strung, well-fortified dogs within. We reversed course. Stumped, we turned and headed back.

Usually after an episode like this I have a Homerian "Doh!" moment when I examine the map and see the obvious error of my ways. Not this time. The park's trail map suggests an obvious trail entrance off Guess Road, one with a gate even, between the river and Lebanon Road. In fact, the trail appears to dart between the house on the river and the Bates' place. Even in daylight, I'm not sure I could find it. So .... .

Can anyone out there shed light on the Eagle Trail mystery? This baffled guidebook writer would by most appreciative.