I used to know the woods around my childhood home like the back of my hand. Even not staying on the path, I always knew where I was and never got lost. Found a lot of wonderful spots and knew all the possible ways to cross the creek without getting wet. I found places deep in the woods that had been used to dump appliances, and once even found an old car. Another time I found a pile of bones. It looked like someone who hunted deer would butcher them out there, or maybe just dump the carcasses. Some were, um, fresher than others.
Considering how directionally challenged I am in any other setting, I was always amazed at myself for not getting lost out there. Technically I wasn’t allowed to go into the woods, but my parents both worked and so weren’t home to stop me. They then told me to never go off the path, but what’s the fun in that?