I roll my shoulders and pace around the clearing to make sure it’s a safe spot to stop, eyes darting, ears honed in. I can hear water nearby and walk into the tree line by a few feet until I find a tiny shallow bubbling brook heading downhill. I take my fill quickly, still cursing the fact I broke my water bottle a week back and have no way to carry any and head back to my bags, pulling out my smoked meat and slump on the floor while chewing on it to take in my surroundings.

The sun is really high, so it must be around noon now, the...