My friend and I were lost in the mountains. Exhausted, hungry and out of hope. Almost…

Adventure was my middle name, so when my friend Sean got the wild idea for a hike in the Adirondacks I was game. “Should take us only a few hours to get to the summit and back,” I said. Halfway up we lost the trail.

We wandered in circles trying to find it. At nightfall, tired and hungry, we shivered and tried to sleep. We were up with the sun. In a few hours we found markings identifying the path to the summit. From there, we’d see the fastest way down.

“I can’t make it,” Sean said. I knew he wasn’t a quitter. He’d pushed himself as far as he could go. I hustled to the summit, about 200 feet up. It was a small area, with just that one path leading up to it and a 3,000-foot drop on the other side.

God, this isn’t a game anymore. Please help us get home.I studied the tree line, looking for a trail. A hiker in bright yellow came up behind me. “Is that your friend down there?” he asked. I explained our predicament.

The hiker gave me some granola bars and a big bottle of water. “Use this map to get down,” he said. I hurried down to Sean. “Where’d you get this stuff?” he asked, taking a swig of water.

“That hiker in yellow. The one who went past you.” Sean shook his head. “Nobody came this way. I’m sure of it.” I looked back at the summit. No one was up there