You head back toward the highway, feeling a little less hungover and also wildly impressed by your own wilderness skills. You reach the highway and keep walking in the same direction you were going before. After what feels like hours, the woods running along the side of the road start to thin out before abruptly stopping at the perimeter of a big field. At the tree line, you can see that the wood stretches for miles to your left. Ahead of you is a farmhouse with a picket fence. The road continues past the farmhouse to the right, up a short hill. At the crest, you think you see a town.