Okay, second episode of somnambulating in the dark. Happened about seven years ago on my return from Australia's wild and wooly Northern Territory, back to Queensland.
My then gf convinced me to head back east, and against my wishes, I packed up and left. Did my usual, and exited in the wee small hours, for an all day haul. Had driven for eleven hours, and was trying to make it to Mt. Isa, but about fifty miles out, a large barn owl flew across the windscreen, and collected my driver's side rearview mirror, sending shards of glass across my face and into the car.
Decided the time to stop was now, so I found a short track off the road, and set up the gas cooker to make a feed. All I had was a rack of lamb, so while it was cooking, had a few lagers, rolled out the swag, and prepared for sleep.
The moon was setting, and the night was warm, being mid-summer, and about a week before christmas. I ate the lamb, along with some steamed potato and broccoli.
Fell asleep without any probs at all after a mammoth drive and a good feed.
Woke up neck deep in water, not knowing where the flock I was, nor what the flock I was doing there. Noticed I had one thong(rubber sandal) on, and was fully dressed, which I was not when I went to bed. I usually sleep in my reg grundies only in summer.
Took a look around, and could make out a treeline behind me. The water was warmer than the air, so I wasn't in the least bit cold. Made it back to the bank of the creek, and tried to scramble up the bank. It was that yellow clay that is about as slippery as a used car salesman. Had to find some grass and low shrubs to drag myself out on.
Next question was, "where the flock is my truck?" Had to bash through the scrub, scratchiing the sh t out of my arms, to bounce out onto the road. Next question? Which way is my truck?
Tossed a mental coin in my head, and went left. I figured I'd walked about half a mile before I stopped to make a decision to turn back the other way. It was then I saw a dim white shape off in the distance. I kept going, hoping it was my canoe on top of the trailer. Goddammit. Found it.
Celebrated with a drink of water, and a ciggie. Promptly tied myself to the trailer with rope, and settled onto my swag again.
Yeah, not as life-threatening as the first episode I related, but pretty bizzare, considering Mt Isa is in the middle of desert country, and I'd found the only water course for a hundred miles. When I checked the map, I had walked in a direct line back the way I'd come, like as the crow flies.
Funny thing, the subconscious.