The Ozark Howler and the Search for the Snawfus

Chapter 2 - The Path

Eleanor knew exactly where she was going, thanks to the Apple Maps on her iPhone.

Her face was radiant amid the undergrowth, lit pale blue from the touchscreen that she carried along the trail. She was confident in her progress toward the destination, a scenic overlook that had been rated on Yelp as the best in the Ozarks. 

It was satisfying to realize that less subtle eyes than hers would not be able to perceive the trail, which was clear enough to her when she lifted her gaze to check the ground beneath her feet. The blue arrow in the app could not be mistaken.

So, when she emerged at a clifftop with a view of a winding river in the valley below reflecting a brilliant purple sunset, Eleanor did not stop to take in the vista. After all, according to her smartphone, just half a mile ahead, there was a view that would be even better. There weren't any ratings at all for the paltry scene before her now, and she didn't have time to waste on subpar imagery. She was an influencer.

Without hesitating, she forged ahead into the underbrush in the direction indicated by her navigator. Forging ahead was what Eleanor did. She was optimized.

It was back in 2013 that Eleanor discovered the Quantified Self movement, and her life had been on track ever since. She began, like most people, with her health, counting calories. With her diet measured and managed, she added a running routine, and had completed five marathons since, with ever decreasing times of completion.

Anything she wanted to improve, Eleanor conquered by measuring it. It was simple to do. There was an app for every objective. She tracked her spending, her saving, her ovulation, her periods, her calls to her mother, her letters to the editor. 

Eleanor even measured her mindfulness, counting the minutes she devoted to meditation every day, and giving each session a rating on a ten-point scale. A rating of ten was for Nirvana. She hadn't accomplished that yet, but she was on a steady path toward it, having achieved a 7.8 just last week. The BlissMe app predicted that at her current pace, she would achieve enlightenment on January 22, 2022. 

With a bit of extra effort, Eleanor figured that she could attain cosmic consciousness on New Year's Eve 2021 instead. She already had chosen the venue for her epiphany. It was modernist, yet ethereal.

The newest addition to Eleanor's quantified lifestyle was TripBucket, an app designed to help people maximize their travel experiences by directing them to the highest quality destinations. Eleanor's current goal on TripBucket was to visit the hundred highest-rated destinations within 500 miles of her home by the end of the year. Her destination today was #47. She couldn't wait to cross it off her list.

The scenic overlook was now only two thousand feet away. TripBucket said that the view was best at sunset, so she had to hurry to get there in time. If she didn't stop to look at anything, the app advised, her timing should be perfect.

Her footing was not perfect, however. As she checked the app to confirm that she remained on pace, her left foot moved aggressively toward the ground to propel her forward at an adequate speed, and found nothing there.

Eleanor lurched as her foot twisted into a cavity between two tree roots. The pain was almost as much of a shock as her sudden loss of movement. She turned sideways and slammed into ground, though the blow to her body was softened by a thick layer of leaves on the forest floor.

Laying on her side, she closed her eyes for half a moment, and almost forgot where she was. As she practiced her breathing techniques, though, she remembered what was most important: Reaching the overlook at sunset for the perfect Instagram moment. Hurrying to make sure that nothing was broken, she let out a sigh of relief when she found her iPhone right next to her in the leaves, glowing without a scratch.

She couldn't help wincing as she rose back to her feet. Her left ankle was sore but not unbearable. The trouble was that, according to TripBucket, she would arrive five minutes after sundown. She would have to pick up the pace. 

A simple sprint wouldn't be possible, but Eleanor discovered after a few hundred feet of trial and error that she could move at an adequate speed with a funny kind of skip-hop that placed most of the weight on her right ankle and allowed her to clear the small obstacles in her way. 

With just 500 feet to go, she noticed that she had begun to travel downhill into a valley. How there was going to be any beautiful view with the hills blocking the way, she didn't understand. Perhaps, she thought, the unexpected nature of the view was part of what made it so spectacular.

Checking the app as she bobbed along, Eleanor saw with satisfaction that she was almost back on schedule. So, she reached behind to pull her selfie stick from her backpack, and managed to attach her phone to it just as the alarm sounded.

She had arrived.

Eleanor worked quickly to switch to the camera app and raised the selfie stick to the southwest, where the high-rated view would be. All she she saw was a dimly lit scene of tree trunks.

The phone swung wildly around as Eleanor searched for the promised scenic view. She couldn't see it anywhere. Her view was blocked by hills all around her.

Failing to remember to breathe through her panic, Eleanor refreshed the TripBucket app, and then swiped to Apple Maps to confirm that she was in the right place. It was then that she noticed the little icon at the top of the screen. She had lost her cellular signal.

It seemed as if every muscle in her body contracted at once as she stomped her foot on the ground in outrage, remembering her injury a second too late. Pain beyond anything she had ever known before shot through her body, and she fell to the ground. This time, fallen leaves did not cushion the blow. Her ribs cracked against an outcrop of stone.

Eleanor could not count the minutes before she could bear to open her eyes against the waves of agony that seemed to be pulling her body back and forth over the ground. By the time she was able to see anything at all, it was almost completely dark, with only the deepest blue of dusk silhouetting the trees above her.

She grabbed for her iPhone to call for help, not remembering that she was out of range. The screen was too blurry for her to see clearly, so she called out in a sharpened voice, "Siri, I need first aid".

When Siri did not respond, Eleanor poked desperately at the home button of her phone. Nothing happened. Without thinking of what it would accomplish, she pressed it over and over again.

With each tap, the screen began to brighten, providing a comforting glow in the twilight, a white pure light that continued to grow until nothing else remained in her vision. As Eleanor continued to press her home button, a high pitched noise grew within the phone, which began to haptic with a remarkable force she hadn't imagined was possible, until the screen went suddenly black. 

She could see nothing more of the night, of her phone, or even of her own hand.

The last thing Eleanor was aware of that night was hearing a popping sound as the mirror cracked from side to side, feeling the splintered remains of her screen cut into her clutching fingers.