We’re not afraid to say, “Hi, We’re lost!”

When Rebecca and I made our way to the top of Chapeau Carre a couple of weeks ago, we were quite impressed with our ability to recall specific details about the hike from the time that we had done it years earlier, once we managed to get ourselves onto the proper trail, that is. “There’s a pond just around this corner,” I said. “There was a cow in this field, and look, there still is,” Rebecca said. Very specific details came flooding back to us.

Yesterday, as we attempted to retrace our steps to the far northern tip of Bequia, we had virtually the same experience. Each time we rounded a corner, we recognized specific details from the time we walked the trail in 2012. Unfortunately, that still didn’t prevent us from taking a wrong turn, and getting ourselves lost!

All this was super familiar to us.

The hike begins right in Port Elizabeth. Taking the main road out of town, we followed the street signs, walking towards Spring and Industry. Shortly after the road passes the Turtle Sanctuary, it turns into a two-track trail, right by some old construction equipment. It then begins a slow climb up through the trees.

There will be cows right around this bend.

As I mentioned, a lot of details from the hike came flowing back to us as we walked. We took note of the tree that we had hidden underneath to wait out a passing rain shower, we admired some new houses that were only partially built the last time we passed by, and pointed out the exact tree that an iguana had dropped out of, startling us both.

I bet it took this guy a lot longer to get up here than it did us.

The hike went pretty well for us right up until the point that we reached Bequia Head, the tip of the island overlooking St. Vincent. Things got a little muddled after that though. One detail that I didn’t remember is that we had to backtrack a bit from that point to find a fork in the trail to work our way back. We spent some time dealing with that issue, searching around for a trail that didn’t exist. Rebecca ultimately remembered that we had taken a photo of a fork in the path, and posted it on our blog (see link above). Once we found that fork, and got ourselves back on the proper trail, walking along the ridge line, things once again looked familiar. Another mistake was soon to come though.

All smiles, St. Vincent in the distance.

Enjoying the view, and a short break.

At some point further down the trail, we came to a junction. Taking what appeared to be the more travelled path, we veered to the right. This trail started off OK, leading us downward, and while it didn’t seem all that familiar, we were relatively confident that we were at least going in the right general direction. Ultimately though, the trail petered out at a water course, and that definitely didn’t seem familiar. Now unsure of which way to proceed, Rebecca backtracked up the hill to try to see where we had gone wrong (ON BACK for the hashers reading this). Verifying that we had at least started on a proper path, we decided to follow the water to see where it went. After all, water goes down to sea level, right?

It’s worth noting that by this point, my knee was throbbing. While it has improved, it has still not fully recovered from the 950th hash when I strained it while running the ironman course. Walking up hills, or along even ground doesn’t seem to bother it much. Traversing along steep hills as we had just done, or walking down steep paths, really aggravates it!

Did I mention that my knee was aching?

As expected, walking through the water course, which soon after turned into a legitimate stream, did bring us down to sea level, ending up at a nice beach. What we didn’t expect to find were the several tents that were set up on the beach right where the stream joined the ocean. The beach looked unfamiliar to us, and there was no obvious trail leading away from it. Contrary to how many people stereotype men, I have no problem asking for directions. I called out hello, and when one of the men there came out of a tent to greet us, I said, “Hi. We’re Lost.”

Water flows down hill, that much we knew for sure.

I should point out that while I’m using the word lost, we were in no way concerned. The island of Bequia is only 7 square miles. Were it not for my sore knee, we might have made this extra trip to the beach just for fun!

We weren’t expecting to find a camp!

After we explained where we had come from, and where we wanted to get to, the first man we spoke to called over his friend, Dune, and told us that he would lead us back up the “road” to the “main road.” When I suggested that they just point us in the proper direction, they both insisted that Dune lead us back. As it turned out, the “road” that they spoke of was the exact same water course that we had followed down to the beach. Apparently, that was the trail, and it’s how they come and go. We were told that at some points during the year, the path is dry, but with all the rain that we’ve been having, it brought fresh water flowing down to their camp.

Dune, walking barefoot, lead us all the way back up the steep hill, right to the top where we had taken our incorrect turn. What we hadn’t noticed, this time around, or the previous time that we had done this hike, is that there was, in fact, several trails leading away from that point. I once again suggested that we’d be fine to continue on from there by ourselves, but Dune was insistent that he help us back to the road. I had already put some money in my pocket to offer him for his help, so I conceded, and allowed him to continue on, leading us back.

Our incorrect trail was not long, but take note of the contour lines!

While we walked, we learned that Dune, a native of St. Vincent, was on the island fishing with his mates. He told us that they would stay on that beach until the day before Christmas Eve when they would then return to the mainland to be with their families. He shared how he had learned the various trails, mostly by trial and error. The path we were taking back to the main road was, according to him, the shortest route, which by that point, was much appreciated by my knee.

When we ultimately found ourselves back at the old construction equipment, the spot where we had first moved away the paved road, Dune left us to retrace his steps back to his campsite. Before he left though, he suggested that we take a photograph of him, and was insistent that we remember his name. You have nothing to worry about, Dune, we won’t forget!

Thanks, Dune. Good luck with the fishing!

It’s true, we were then back on the road, but we were also still quite a distance from Port Elizabeth, and my knee was killing me! Serendipitously, we walked only 100 meters or so when we came across a pickup truck, trying to exit a driveway. I say trying because he was totally stuck in the mud, spinning his tires. I waited just a few seconds before offering our help, but instead of pushing the truck as I had envisioned, the driver asked us to climb in the back to put some weight over the rear tires. That ultimately did the trick, and he got himself free. When we got back out of the truck to continue walking, the driver smiled and told us to get back in, that he’d drive us all the way back to town. Woo hoo! Our good deed had paid off, and my knee was ecstatic!

We love riding in the back of pickup trucks!

All in all, this is a pleasant hike, and our drama shouldn’t put you off from attempting it. For those looking to follow in our footsteps, feel free to request further info. I’ll do my best to ensure that you stay on the proper trail better than we did.