Worst case of lost in woods I can remember, and I don't remember much.
I got drunk and high in El Paso and rode on the back of another guy's motorcycle with a group on a camping expedition up in the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico. Woke up the next day near the Cliff Dwellings. Got a rubber inner tube from a service station and decided to float down the Gila River 'til it hit Interstate 10 and then hitch-hike back to El Paso. The biker must have given me some gear. Among other things, I think I had some waterproof matches. None of that mattered. In the middle of the night I got caught up in barbed wire that had stretched across the river. Popped the tube and lost all my gear.
Never felt scared that I can remember. Just started walking. I felt sure I knew where I was going even though in hindsight I can see that I no frickin' idea. Kept stopping to rest and falling asleep. Every time I woke up, I didn't know where I was, but kinda pieced it together and kept on moving. Stumbled across the camp of two backpackers who, if I remember correctly, had food poisoning or something and one or both of them was sick and therefore up and about to hear me stumbling around near the camp. They tried to talk to me and tell me I was headed the wrong way, but I didn't believe them, and continued on my way. Next day around mid-day our paths crossed again and and inasmuch as they were headed back toward the Cliff Dwellings or thereabout, I think we all pretty much agreed, at least implicitly, that I was lost and delirious. Next thing I remember was waking up in back seat of their car in Las Cruces and them explaining to me what I've basically related in the foregoing account.
I don't remember how I got back to El Paso, but I did. It took me a while to piece the whole adventure together and deduce that I had been in some pretty narrow straights out there and had been saved by blind-ass luck and human kindness. I probably could just as easily have had an encounter with the Marr banshee.