I can relate to the above story, though you're not really lost until you let fear in. If you can stay calm, and keep your wits, you are just temporarily misplaced. Been there, done that a few times.
I remember a duck hunt in central Nevada one year quietly walking a little creek, dead of winter, over-cast, windy, with little skiffs of snow hitting on and off. Alone, except for my beloved little chocolate lab, Mabel. With a couple of birds in the bag, the weather turned on me, and a snow storm set in. I figured it was time to call it a day, and head back to camp. A fairly long walk, if I followed the creek, or I could take a short-cut across a meadow. As soon as I was out of sight of the creek, the weather cranked it up another notch or two. Now I'm in a total white out. My tracks were disappearing right before my eyes, eliminating any evidence that I was ever there. Every where I looked, 360 degrees, the view was identical. No landmarks, no tracks, nothing. I couldn't tell North from South, by visual. I retrieved the little compass from my kit, and figured a direction, and went for it. Keeping as straight a line as possible, it seemed like forever, but finally I stumbled onto Cherry Creek. I turned left, and walked the couple miles back to camp. Camp was a borrowed 1970's, or early 80's Ford C Class motor home camper. My hunting partners, Mike and Elise were sitting at the table sipping Crown Royal, with the heater on, dinner warming on the cook-top.
I would never take for granted a little walk in the field, with a little weather at my back.
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