The last time I got lost while hiking was about a year ago. I had signed up for a weekend of caretaker duty at Bigelow Col on Bigelow Mountain, across Carrabassett Valley from Sugarloaf Mountain.

The weather was terrible, even for late October. It had rained for a week, and on my way up the mountain on Saturday I had to ford the swollen outlet of Stratton Brook Pond. That was the beginning of my troubles.

Usually, the outlet is a dry rock-hop across a trickle of water at the outlet. I didn’t get lost Saturday, but the cold water immersion up to my thighs and the subsequent chilling contributed to my disorientation the next day when I got turned around on my way back.

After my wet crossing I headed for the col, and by the time I got there it was snowing and cold. As part of my duty I greeted hikers, informed them where to camp and counted their numbers, and then settled in for the night in the former fire warden’s cabin. The next morning, I packed up early and left for the descent to the truck and the warm, dry ride home.

The landmarks and human marks scrolled by as I made my way down the Fire Warden’s Trail. There was the Moose Falls Campsite after the first mile or so. Then came the junction of the Horn’s Pond Trail on the right, after another 1.7 miles. Somewhere after that I took a left off the trail onto an old, greened-over tote road.

After a few yards down the road, I realized my mistake and turned around to get back on the trail. I found the trail, but in the cold and my exhausted state – due partly to a cold weekend and partly to being immersed in freezing water the day before – I headed back up the mountain.

The sky was overcast and although it wasn’t raining or snowing, the landmarks that usually were in the view were obscured. The trail at this point was fairly flat and forested. Either direction looked like the right one from which I had come.

I walked up the trail for a half-mile before I recognized a place where I had been on the descent just a short time before. It was then that I was reminded I actually could get lost on a trail.

Actually, there are plenty of places to get lost and an endless variety of ways. This time I neglected to take a compass bearing. In fact, because I knew the Fire Warden’s Trail runs northeast to southwest, all I would have had to do was to take my compass out and turn accordingly, once I got back on the trail.

The reason I didn’t check my compass was simple. I thought I knew the trail by heart. After all, I’d been up the trail dozens of times over the past 20 years. I know, or so I thought, every rock and tree along the way. That complacency combined with what had become commonplace, the landscape surrounding me, could have left me in serious trouble in another situation.

On the Fire Warden’s Trail, I eventually would have realized my mistake at the first man-made trail sign, way before climbing the mountain all the way back to the col.

To keep from getting off course, there are techniques every hiker should know and use. Aside from learning map and compass use, which are essential to finding your way, there are skills you can build to prevent you from getting lost. Some of these are simple to develop and with practice can keep you from becoming disoriented.

One of the things I do is take a mental picture of my surroundings. That’s how I knew I was going back up the mountain on the Fire Warden’s Trail. I recognized a turn in the trail beside a particular rock. Of course, after a while you could want to be in familiar enough surroundings that you wished yourself into seeing a landmark that’s not there. You can’t remember every detail, so try to remember the features that are really distinct. That beaver pond on your left going up the trail must be on your right when you’re going home.

Another way people become disoriented is in estimating distance to a landmark. Things should appear in a certain place, they think. If not, they wonder if they’ve wandered off course. Being reasonable in estimating distances and giving yourself enough time to cover those distances are good ways to prevent disorientation.

Being aware of likely places to lose the trail and wander away from it helps in staying on it. Most people who wander off the trail do so when the trail turns uphill. Eight out of 10 times people will turn downhill away from an uphill-turning trail. At a sharp turn uphill is a likely place to make a mental note that this spot will need watching on your return.

One of the things I do is recite aloud the features I’m passing as I’m on my hike, especially if I’m going to a new place. It helps me remember the image if I describe a place aloud. Of course it sounds a little odd to hiking partners, but they probably just think I’m moved to words by the hike.

Even before I go out on a trail, I look at the topographical map and try to remember features from the last time I hiked there, even the little ups and downs. It compares to what a winter slalom skier does at the starting gate before a run. I envision what lies ahead on the trail as I hike.

My grandfather used to say, “You can’t get lost in Maine. You’re either going uphill or downhill, and if you follow a stream far enough, you’ll find a town.”

I hope I don’t ever have to follow a stream far enough to get to a town. In Maine, that could be a long, rough way to recover from getting lost.

Brad Viles is an Appalachian Trail volunteer.