Go right

Let’s try the corn maze they said. It will be easy, they said. Nope, it wasn’t. Peer pressure, no matter what the age, is tough. The desire for acceptance and social belonging is powerful and makes us do things we probably shouldn’t do. So, here I am lost in this maze.

It had once been a simple maze carved into a farmer’s field, nothing fancy, just a way to make a little extra cash while giving visitors something fun to do. Everyone benefited. But after the farm changed hands, the new owners called it The Field of No Escape and took a different approach. They expanded the maze dramatically, transforming it into a sprawling, far more challenging labyrinth.

I hadn’t thought about this place in years. My parents would take us through every Halloween and it was fun but this wasn’t the maze from my childhood. I wouldn’t even call it a maze; it was more like a complex and intricate catacomb. There were rumours that people would often get lost in there for hours.

Three of us rode our bikes out to the farm this morning and started the maze together. When we reached the first fork, there were three paths, so we each chose a different one. We could hear one another for a while but eventually we couldn’t, or at least I couldn’t. I wondered if they found each other or if they found the end. The average amount of time it took was one hour - there was a sign at the entrance. The record holder was a man named Jack Black, he completed it in under 30 minutes and had written a book about it, including tips and strategies when navigating any maze. Of course there was a little shop at the exit where you could buy his book and other corn and maze related knick knacks. I wondered how he did it. Did he practice? Did he get a drone to fly overheard beforehand so he could map out a path that would work? That’s what I wish I had done.

I think I have been here for about 2 hours; it feels like 2 days. It started out well and I thought I knew what I was doing but after numerous dead ends, I was lost, and stuck. Had I been down that path before, did I try that one? They all looked the same and I had nothing to mark them with. Next time I bring a ribbon - what am I saying, there will not be a next time. I’d packed a granola bar and tried to leave a trail of crumbs so I could track where I’d been—I was determined not to wander in circles. The joke ended up being on me, though, because big red‑winged blackbirds swooped down, gobbled up my trail, and even darted right into my path. And then there were the mice, scurrying around under my feet every so often. They clearly knew the drill—totally unfazed by humans, as if I was just another tree in their forest. One seemed to be following me, I heard him rustling in the corn husks and thought I saw him occasionally. The birds were pretty cheeky, one or two landing in front of me as if to block my way. It was weird that I had not run into anyone for quite some time - the birds and mice were starting to make me feel like I wasn’t alone and I found myself talking to them.

At one point I heard some voices and tried to go towards them but ended up at a dead end. I called out repeatedly but they didn't hear me. It was tempting to take my phone out and call someone but the battery was so low I decided to save it in case I was desperate.

Just when I thought I had had enough and was close to bringing out my phone and getting help, someone ran into me. She looked as lost as I was. Turns out she was. We shared our stories and then began to formulate a plan. She remembered hearing about a shortcut that showed up in many mazes—a quick way out if you were lucky enough to find it. It was worth a shot. Some designs hid a tunnel or a bridge near the centre that led straight to the exit. We had to find the centre and both felt as though they were close.

We walked by a row of corn that seemed shorter than the others so she hopped on my shoulders to see if she could see anything. Nothing stood out so we just decided to try and stay to the right and see what happened. At least we had a plan, I was wandering around aimlessly for too long. Eventually we heard voices, they were muffled but they were definitely close by. We kept repeating, "keep to the right, keep to the right”, partly to stay focused, partly because exhaustion had taken over. We didn’t care if we found the centre or the end, we just wanted out.

That’s the trick of a maze - the end could be inches or miles away. But in those last few moments, those last few steps, something shifted, a weight lifting as if we already knew we made it out. Sweat‑soaked and dust‑covered, we rounded the corner—and there it was. We broke into a run for the final steps.

It took me three hours to make it through, and she finished in about the same time. We shared a laugh, and she joked that next time she’d buy the book first. She headed over to the little shop for some souvenirs while I went looking for my friends. I found them waiting at the picnic tables. They’d wrapped up long ago and were already buzzing for the next adventure. It turns out that a few minutes after we started, they found each other in the maze and navigated it side by side. They loved every second of it.

On the ride home, we passed a highway sign: Bungee Jumping — Next Left.

“Let’s try it!” they shouted.

And that’s when I said, “When the group goes left, I go right.”