National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 100: Popping P***y in Glacier, Trails of Horror, & Night Vision Ghosts

Episode Date: August 13, 2026

Today’s stories include p***y popping in Glacier, trails of horror, night vision ghosts, life saving shadow people & a horse named Miracle. Outsiders Only bonus stories available for Patreon and Apple Subscribers! COME SEE US ON TOUR! For the latest NPAD updates, group travel details, merch and more, follow us on npadpodcast.com and our socials: Instagram: @‌nationalparkafterdarkTikTok: @‌nationalparkafterdark Support the show by becoming an Outsider and receive ad free listening, bonus content and more on Patreon or Apple Podcasts. Want to see our faces? Catch full episodes on our YouTube Page! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey everyone. Welcome back to National Park After Dark. I'm Cassie. And I'm Danielle and you're listening to a Trail Tales episode. If you're not familiar, if for some reason this is your first time listening to a Trail Tales episode, this is where you write into us and tell us really cool stories from the outdoors or wherever we think is cool and funny and interesting. I was just thinking the other day, remember when I asked for people's trapped in elevator stories and like a hundred people wrote in? I'm like how many people are getting stuck in elevators? I was kind of joking. And we had such a big response. It's like, this is actually a worldwide problem. Yeah. Who would have known? A lot of people were getting stuck in the St. Louis Arch. Mm. Oh, you know what? That's really funny because I went to Gateway Arch for the first time this summer. And I contemplated getting in the elevator and going up there. And I didn't. Oh, I'm glad you didn't. Me too. I don't know if you would do well in a trapped elevator.

No. As someone who's claustrophobic? Yeah. No. Catch me screaming. You wouldn't scream. You would just silently panic. I would silently panic, I think.

Yeah. And I'd probably start crying. Well, I don't want that to happen. So I guess when we go there to check off that part or, well, you already went. I already went. So. Yeah. You don't have to go back.

It's all right. I would go back if we were doing it. Not like I had. I had a lovely time. I'd go back. Yeah. A five-star rating for a one-star park. Yeah. Well, elevators do not make an appearance in any of our stories today, but the title of your first one has really captured my attention. So can you please go first? I would love to. This is probably my favorite title we've ever had for A Trail. It's titled Popped My Pussy, in parentheses, gave birth on the Going to Sun Road. Okay. And this is so perfect because this is our 100th Trail Tales episode. And this is your favorite title we've ever gotten. So doing some quick math, we do eight stories per Trail Tales episode. So this is like out of 800-ish stories that we've shared, this is your favorite title. That's an accomplishment. We should send them an award. Yeah. So whoever wrote this, just know you've done very well.

We're going to send you a trophy. All right. Well, going into the story, they wrote, Hello, my daughter Lindsay has turned me on to your podcast. I seriously love them and you too. I am a career in National Park Service interpreter. Yay, I retired after 36 years in 2018. I started working seasonally in 1981 at Walnut Canyon National Monument and Flagstaff.

Throughout my career, I worked at Katmai National Park and Preserve in Alaska, Point Reyes National Seashore in California, Tuzigoot, I don't know if I pronounce that right, and Montezuma Castle in Verde Valley, Arizona, and in the Division of Natural Resources, science, and stewardship in Washington, D.C. June 22nd, 1992, started out like any other day. I was wearing my oh so lovely, read hideous,

maternity NPS uniform, and providing training to about 60 seasonal employees. training went just fine from 10 a.m. to noon. I went back to my house at lunch and made my husband a sandwich. Feel free to add your own commentary on this. I think she's working. She's pregnant. She's making sandwiches for husbands. I feel like one of those things does not need to be happening. And it's probably your husband can make his own sandwich. That's right. But that's okay. It's fine. Maybe he's a good person, maybe. I've made owl sandwiches before. Yeah. It's just a cliche. There's nothing wrong. He's also made me sandwiches.

before. Right. That's okay. You get a sandwich. I'll make you a sandwich. It's fine. Yeah. It's a give and take relationship here. I haven't made anyone a sandwich in years. And I got to tell you, it's a great feeling. It feels good. It feels so fucking good. But anyway, go ahead. Well, while making said sandwich, she writes, My water broke. We jumped in his truck and got ready to drive from St. Mary to the hospital in Calisbell, which is about 90 minutes. There was road construction. my husband nervously ran to the front and said, my wife is having a baby.

The flag person looked at him and said, you're serious, aren't you? And they let him through. That'd be a crazy thing to lie about also. Like, no, just kidding, but things for letting me cut in front of all this traffic. By Logan Pass, the contractions were six minutes apart. We had our park radio and Rangers were moderning our progress.

We met them at Logan Pass, and I switched to their vehicle, laying down and squeezing a co-worker's hand as hard as I physically could. We made it to Logan Pitt around 2 p.m. And a ranger declared radio silence parkwide. They called in a helicopter where Dr. Dussing from Calisbell Hospital was on board. I had Lindsay around 10 minutes after 2 p.m. I remember it was very hot that day,

but I also remember how pleased I was that she came into the world in one of the most beautiful places in the world. We flew to the hospital in the helicopter. My husband, an 18-month-old son, followed. They gave my son a mini-ambulance and a mini helicopter. That's cute. We made the cover of the local newspaper because, in their words, we usually have death and not such happy stories to report on going to the Sun Road

in Glacier National Park. As I was resting in the hospital after the fact, the interpreters I worked with, all great people, literally drove over to Calispell to drop off their training evaluations from my session on June 22nd. That's my literal nightmare. If I gave birth and my coworkers came in to give me work papers, I'd be like, not only did I just give birth, but you arrived at my... Onmedicated, it sounds like. Yeah.

Absolutely. Note to anyone, I mean you and anyone I work with in the future. If I give birth, do not talk to me about work. I'm going to give you a minimum of three to four month buffer zone. I appreciate that. Because I'm scared of you. You're scared of me? I'm scared of you in a time like that.

Like to even talk to you about work. Yeah. You have hard boundaries about work. Wow. And I respect them or try to. That's so nice. Not many people have told me they're afraid of me and I just really appreciate this moment. You're welcome.

Thank you. Okay. So her go workers bring her her work on June 22nd. Finally, in the most American turn of events, I had to mail my insurance company a copy of one of those news articles in order to get. get them to cover the helicopter ride by highlighting what an emergency birth it really was. God, insurance companies are the worst. Man. Thanks for reading my story.

More tales to come in the future for my time as a ranger. Think being chased by a grizzly on my bike, meeting a ghost soldier at a training in Harper's Ferry, leading hikes for Al Gore and Lady Bird Johnson, or helping a visitor after he got a fishing hook lodged in his eye. And the meantime, keep up the good work, getting people excited about visiting the parks and committing to protecting them forever. Lynn. Lynn, thank you so much for giving us the type of story we needed on our 100th episode, you know. That's a crazy place to give birth.

And your daughter has a really cool birth story. I would tell everyone that. Yeah. You'd be like, oh, where were you born? And, you know, like mine's Worcester, Massachusetts. And if I was born in a national park, I'd be like, the going to Sun Road and Glacier National Park. Only the most beautiful place in the lower 48 states.

Yeah. Arguably all 48 states. All 48 states. Arguably all 50 states. Well, I would love to hear more of your stories, Lynn, because they've definitely captured our interest. And there was one that said something about like a ghost soldier training or something like That and Harbour's Ferry.

Yeah, I want to hear that one. And it kind of goes into my first story, which is titled Accidental Ghost Tour by Helicopter. Wow. Hi, ladies. First Trail submission, Woot. Allow me to start off my trail tale as many often do by singing your praises. I started listening to your show in 2024 when I started walking in an attempt to pull myself out of a depressive episode. I listened to a few episodes and couldn't figure out who this Ian guy was.

so I decided to start at episode one to find out. Danielle, I am so sorry for your loss and also heard you mention a few episodes ago that you were getting comments telling you to stop talking about Ian and to let go already. I have to say, fuck those people for serious. I've lost both of my parents and still talk about them frequently, keeping Ian alive through your stories and your love is amazing. Thank you very much for saying that. On to my trail tale. I used to fly in search and rescue helicopters for the military and I'll redact details of exactly. where this happened for operational security purposes. But while on a routine training night flight

wearing night vision goggles, I was doing what we call JP drops, deep in the woods of the Pacific Northwest. We were over my favorite site to do drops, a small, picturesque wide spot in a fast-moving river where we're able to lay the weight down just on top of a rock. It's a pretty good simulation for having to hit the target of the roof of a car that's stuck in a flood. I'm a crew chief, so much My job was to run the rescue hoist that lowers a medic down to a patient and then brings the patient and medic back into the aircraft to get them to safety. During this particular evening, both of my pilots were being particularly chatty and I was getting annoyed. So I half tune them out to just do my job, still giving all of the necessary calls so they knew what I was up to. I'm doing the final drop of the night, what we call a cable inspection.

This is a much slower iteration of what we're usually doing. that the crew chief can inspect the integrity of the hoist cable to ensure safety for use by the next crew. Now, what we're doing, if I do say so myself, is super cool. We fly a big, insanely cool looking aircraft out into the middle of nowhere and rescue folks, so it's not uncommon for people to stop and gawk at what we're doing. This time, however, was a little different. As I mentioned, this was a night flight. It was about 10 p.m. and I returned to my seat at the door, feet dangling, 200 feet above the river below and began making my calls as I slowly lowered the weight towards the ground. And I suddenly feel like I am being watched. Since I didn't have a live human on the hoist

to worry about, I panned my night vision goggles around to see if I could see anybody watching, a hunter on an ATV, a farmer out checking on livestock, and then I froze. Standing next to a fence post that I've never noticed during the daylight were a man and a woman. Plain as anyone I have have ever seen. But they were dressed like they were from the early to mid-1800s. Eyes hollow, his hand rested on top of the fence post, and the other arm was around her. Oh, my God. Well, I can't tell the pilots about this. They'll call me an idiot. I look away and focus back on my task for another minute and then look back. Please don't be closer to the aircraft, I thought, and they weren't. They were just standing there, staring right back at me. I told the pilots,

I was going to use my searchlight to look at something. I shine my light over there and peer out from under my goggles and see no one. What the fuck? Now I'm freaked out for sure. I bring the weight back into the aircraft, take care of a few housekeeping items, and look back to where the man and woman in odd clothing stood one last time. And they are still there. Not visible to the naked eye, but I could still see them in my night vision goggles.

Oh no. This time my brain registered one last chilling thing. Like I said, our aircraft is pretty large, one of the largest used by the U.S. Army. It creates a mighty rotor wash, the downwind produced by the blades. I've stood under one of these myself and you can barely hold yourself upright. All of the leaves around these people, all of the trees, were blowing furiously under the rotor wash. but their hair, their loose-fitting clothing, perfectly still. Pro of being a ghost.

I slammed the cabin door shut, got back into my seat, and secured myself, and grabbed my microphone, saying, Cabin Secure, take me home now. And they did. Following this incident, I looked up the coordinates on a map thinking there had to be a history of maybe an old logging town or perhaps a railway, but nothing. I remained completely chilled to the bone about it to this day. Who were they? What were they doing? I have plenty of ghost stories as I feel like I'm more sensitive to the veil than most, but this one ate me alive. I'll absolutely freak out if I hear this on the podcast. Thanks for all you to do. Love you to death. Remember to enjoy the view, but always have a good searchlight on hand, Kay. Well, new fear unlocked. I will not be using night vision goggles in anywhere that is associated with ghostly activities. Well, the thing is it doesn't seem like it won.

was. It's just like out in the middle of the woods. Not that they know about. That's true. That's true. Yeah. That's creepy. I also love that you just kept it to yourself. I'm like, I can't tell me, but they can't hear this right now. They're going to judge me. I can't do this. You're going to give me so much shit for this. I loved the part where they saw this couple with hollow eyes and then it was like, I'm just going to keep working. Check back in a minute or two and see if they're still there. Let me circle back to that in a second. Like, maybe I am a little crazy. Let me just get back to my job and we'll look back and see if it's gone. Spooky. Spooky.

All right. My next story is titled, The Night Miracle Saved Our Lives. A few years ago, I texted my uncle and asked if he could come shoe a couple of my horses. He told me he had a few things to do that day and couldn't drive all the way to my place. But if I met him halfway, he could shoe the horses that needed it. afterward we planned to ride horses down into the little Grand Canyon to visit a historic ranch on private land that he had permission to access. I told him I'd have my youngest daughter with me. She was four years old at the time. He assured me the ride would be safe enough for her, so we loaded up and headed out.

Everything went as planned. The ride was beautiful, and by the time we reached the old ranch, the sun was beginning to set. My uncle asked if we should turn around, but I wanted to stay just a little longer. to take a few more pictures. The sunset was perfect. The weather was calm, and my daughter was having the time of her life. By the time we started back, it was getting dark. We had about a two-hour ride back to the truck. Then, out of nowhere, a storm rolled in.

Within minutes, it was pouring. And when I say pouring, I mean a complete downpour. We were soaked from head to toe. Every piece of clothing I had was saturated. When I stood up in my stirrups, the water pooled in my chaps finally drained down one of my legs and filled my boots, which were already overflowing. Before I continue, I need to tell you about the horse I was riding. His name was Miracle, a black and white paint draft cross. We'd bought him only six months earlier. He had been a breeding

stallion for the first four years of his life and knew almost nothing about being ridden. The rancher we bought him from told us we'd never get him soft or dependable because he was already set in his ways. Then he told us why his name was Miracle. When Miracle was about to be born, the rancher went out to check on his mare and found her dead. She was still warm. He used his pocket knife to open her up and pull out the full. Against all odds, the Colt survived. A month after we bought him, he escaped his pen and was hit by a Toyota forerunner. The vehicle was totaled. When I arrived at the scene, expecting the worst, Miracle was standing in the neighbor's lush green pasture. completely unharmed, peacefully grazing.

He truly lived up to his name. The rain kept coming and suddenly a flash flood rushed through the canyon. On the way in, we rode beside the river. Now, as we were making our way back along the same trail, the riverbank gave way beneath my uncle's horse. He fell about 25 feet into the raging river. At the same time, I found myself trapped on a narrow ledge holding my four-year-old daughter in front of me on Miracle.

Three panicked pack horses and the little pony were trying to flee the storm, charging straight towards us. There wasn't enough room for them to get by without pushing us over the edge too. My uncle was below us screaming for help. I remember sitting there frozen on miracle clutching my little girl trying to calm the frightened horses while listening to my uncle yell from the river. I honestly didn't know what to do. In that moment, I thought nothing could possibly get worse. then two of the pack horses shoved past us anyway. They ripped our pack off miracle and tore away the blanket I had wrapped around my sleeping daughter.

I let them go and carefully rode down to the river. Thankfully, by the time I reached him, my uncle had managed to crawl out onto the bank. After what felt like forever, we finally caught the loose horses and got everyone back together. My uncle was exhausted. He wanted to find a tree and wait out the storm, maybe even sleep for a while. I looked down at the little girl asleep in my arms and knew we couldn't stop. I told him we had to keep going. About an hour later, we were still riding through the washed out trails.

My uncle finally admitted we'd missed our turn and were completely off the trail. We debated what to do before finally deciding to turn around and backtrack towards the river. As we rode, I looked down at the muddy trail. Fresh mountain lion tracks had been laid directly over our own tracks earlier. We were clearly being followed. A few moments later, the little pony let out a terrified scream and bolted into the darkness. We spent nearly 20 minutes searching before we found him standing under a tree, trembling so hard, his whole body shook. By then, I could barely hold my daughter upright anymore.

She was sound asleep, and I was physically exhausted. So I made a decision. I dropped the reins. I wrapped both my arms around my little girl, buried my face against her, and quietly said, Miracle, please take us home. He immediately turned away from the trail and started climbing a steep mountainside. My uncle kept asking where I was going and I told him the truth. I don't know. I'm letting Miracle decide.

I never picked the reins back up. I just held my daughter as tightly as I could and cried. I cried because I was terrified. I cried because I felt guilty for bringing her into a situation that had become so dangerous. And I cried because I didn't know if we'd ever. ever make it out. At some point, I must have drifted in and out from exhaustion. Then, suddenly, I looked up, and there was my truck and my horse trailer. Miracle had done it. He had taken us home. He walked straight to the driver's door of my truck. After I climbed off, he gently laid his nose on my

daughter's head, then leaned his face into my chest. I've trained horses my entire life. I've been around hundreds of them, but I have never felt the kindness, wisdom, and quiet understanding that poured out of an animal the way it did from miracle that night. Words will never fully describe what that horse did for me. When I finally turned the truck on, I looked at the clock. It was four o'clock in the morning. We had been saddled for nearly 14 hours. That night changed me forever. I grew up around dangerous situations in difficult country, but holding my own child in my arms made me understand fear in a completely different way. People often underestimate horses. They see them as animals that simply follow directions. But sometimes, if you've earned their trust and shown them respect,

they'll carry you through moments when you no longer have the strength to carry yourself. Miracle wasn't just his name. That night, he truly was one. Thank you for listening, and I hope I can send more trail tales soon, Marquis. Oh, miracle. The dropping the reins and just letting him do his thing is the equivalent of like, Jesus, take the wheel. Yep. Let go and let God. Yeah, I'd be so curious what in that moment where you were like, like, if there was this moment where you were just like, I'm going to let this horse show me where to go.

You know, because that's kind of a big decision to just drop the reins and be like, I can't do this anymore. And to release that control and then to even have some question what you're doing. doing and being like, I don't know. I just feel like this is what I need to do right now and I'm going to do it. So I wonder if there was like this moment where they just had this feeling of this is what I have to do. Yeah, this like psychic connection between miracles. It's like I got this. Yeah. It's like I know the way. Don't worry. Cool. Miracle. You're a real one. Hey, y'all. It's Kelly Clarkson with Wayfair. Ever order furniture online and wonder what if? Like, what if it doesn't hold up? That sofa was four days old. You should have ordered from Wayfair.

With Wayfair, there's no what if. style you love and quality you can trust. Visit wayfair.ca. Wayfair, every style, every home. Okay, my second story is titled Government Secrets in Roosevelt National Forest. Oh, I love a good government secret. It's fitting and that particularly named National Forest. Hi, ladies, I absolutely love your show and I've listened to almost every NPAD episode. NPAD is my favorite podcast ever and I appreciate the knowledge and humor you both have. Basically, if I am not actively socializing, I have my bright pink headphones singing your beautiful voices into my ears. Thank you for all of the incredible work.

Oh, thank you. That means a lot. I have debated whether or not to share this story for years now, since I will have to keep a lot of details vague and there is a lot to unpack. This involves government work, and I am not allowed to share many details of the location and job, but I decided it's worth sharing. I am a senior in college, so I work some part-time jobs throughout the school year and then look for full-time summer job internships every year. I am studying forestry, so these jobs always involve some form of manual labor in the great outdoors. Well, in my summer job search during my freshman year, I learned too late that seasonal jobs near my college have application deadlines of up to a year and a half in advance. Personally, I think that's crazy.

But regardless of my opinions here, I desperately need. needed to land something so I could buy a car and have some spending money for the school year. This led me to look for jobs in Colorado, where I'm from. I didn't really want to live at home for the summer, but I also couldn't really afford to rent somewhere. So when I stumbled across a government watershed job, it seemed like a perfect situation. The job is live in Monday through Friday in a cabin within Roosevelt National Forest. It paid well, food was included, and it advertised ample time to hike, fish, and explore the surrounding area. Nobody is allowed on the land except for current employees, so I was going in blind.

I applied immediately and was hired. I finished my freshman year and had one weekend to drive over 20 hours from my 220 feet elevation college to my 13,000 feet elevation manual labor summer job. The first week was hard. My crew of four drove the several hours to the cabins and spent the first day setting up our beds, going over rules, and exploring a small portion of the almost 4,000-acre chunk of land. It was absolutely breathtaking, but I felt like my lungs were imploding, and of course, I got bad elevation sickness. I had to lay down on my bed in the cabin, and my eyes drifted around the

room at the paintings on the walls. At the end of each season, crews paint a group portrait at their favorite location. As I'm studying these portraits, I notice something strange. In each one, the crew members are brightly colored and smiling, but off to the side, in every single painting, there is a roughly human-shaped shadow figure. I laughed it off as a cute work tradition, but it wasn't quite as it seemed. On night two, I woke up in what I assume was the middle of the night. There was no Wi-Fi, service, or electricity, so time was somewhat unknown. The moon and the stars are bright out there, so this provided a small amount of light into the cabin. I had a feeling someone was watching me, so I began looking around the room expecting another crew member

to be awake or maybe a moose or a bear looking through the windows. But then I saw it. A few feet from the doorway stood a tall, human-shaped shadow, except nobody was awake or standing. I stared at it for a moment before it moved backward into the main room. I checked and sure enough, the rest of my crew were all in their beds. I convinced myself that my mind was playing tricks on me and eventually fell back to sleep. The next week, my crew was playing Catan at the kitchen table after work, and a co-worker mentioned the funny tradition of painting shadows with the crews. My crew leader, who has worked there for years, said,

oh, no, we paint what's there. The shadows are real, but they won't hurt you. I don't really know what they are. Excuse me, what? He did not elaborate at all in true guy fashion also. Like, have you seen the trends where it's like the girlfriend? is imploring their boyfriends because they come home and they're like, oh, yeah, like, so-and-so broke up. And they've been married for seven years. Why? And they're like, I don't know. I didn't ask.

Okay, he didn't elaborate at all. That night, I woke up again only to see that figure standing at the foot of my bed watching me. I was petrified for a second before realizing it was a coworker of mine who apparently slept walk in some seriously creepy ways. It's really scary too. If not scary. Get out of here. There's shadows. Your coworkers are sleepwalking. No.

I waited for him to get back to his bed and I laughed to myself thinking about how I must have incorrectly seen him in bed the week before and maybe he was the shadow that I had seen. Boy, was I wrong? The next night, I watched him stand up and walk out of the cabin. I didn't think anything of it because the bathroom. were in a separate building. When he came back into the cabin and kept walking to his bed, something behind him caught my eye. In the corner of the room, unmoving, was the shadow figure. It was not my co-worker. It was something else. Honestly, I was convinced at that point.

The shadow figure was real, and I did not feel any fear around it or sense any malicious intent. I've had my fair share of paranormal experiences, so it didn't bother me. It's just the resident shadow man. Yeah, it's just the shadow guy who hangs out at night over my bed while I'm sleeping. It's fine. He's in the family portraits. Yeah. He was here before you.

He's family. The next few weeks went by with some more shadow figure sightings, sometimes in the cabin, at the lake, or in the woods. I saw them both day and night. They were just minding their business and keeping their distance, which I can respect. Well, until they weren't. One day during our work hours, we were alternating people for the task at hand. When it was my turn to take a break, I sat down on a nearby stump and listened to the lake nearby. All of a sudden, the wind picked up, and I hear a faint, move.

I ignored it, and then it came back louder and more serious, but still somehow wispy, move. I jumped up and moved forward, right as a tree snapped and came crashing down on the stump that I was just so. sitting on. The shadow man's protecting them. He's a, he protect. He protect. He attack. It's a dog reference. If no, I guess. I'm just going to say, should we elaborate? I'm not going to. I'm just going to move on. Nobody else had heard or said the word move at all. Call it intuition, if you will, but I believe whatever these shadow beings are saved me. I promise I'm getting to the end. I just wanted to share one more weird experience from that summer. My crew had learned about an old destroyed cabin somewhere out on the land. We went searching for it and ended up on a fun hike through the

woods. Some of my co-workers started fighting each other with branches, but I was investigating a strange tree formation. There was a flat stone in the center, maybe two feet across. Immediately around the stone was a circle of ponderosa pines that bent away from the stone before straightening up. Sure, the stone could have been dropped on a seedling patch and they grow out from under it and curved, but I remember reading in a book somewhere that Native American graves sometimes looked like this. I kept exploring and found what appeared to be an old path long forgotten and covered with pine needles. I looked up and shortly up the path was a young girl, maybe around nine or ten years old, with braids in her dark hair, unfinished leather clothing, and a headband with two feathers on it.

except she was slightly blurry and seemed to be fading. She waved for me to come closer and knowing full well that I was probably willingly following the ghost of a little girl and I should be freaked out and run the other way, I decided to walk towards her. She kept moving farther up the path and waving for me to follow. I did, and as I neared the fork in the path, my coworkers began shouting my name. I turned around and yelled back just a minute I'm over here before turning to face the path again, and discovering that the little girl had disappeared. I never told my coworkers about this half-blurred little girl, and to this day, I do not know where that forgotten path leads.

I'm sure listeners will come up with their own explanations for these events, as people tend to do. Our cook that summer believes there is a portal to another dimension, and that's why the government has it so heavily restricted. Family members mentioned that maybe something is in the water, and I have even considered that maybe the high elevation and low, oxygen got to my brain. However, the conclusion I landed on is simpler. The shadow beings, whatever they are, are real. And I probably followed a ghost into the woods. Whatever your

explanation of these events may be, make sure to enjoy the breathtaking view, but watch your back because you never know whose shadows may be lurking. Well, would you follow a ghost into the woods that was beckoning you? It depends on what they looked like. But if it was a little girl like this maybe yeah okay yeah my curiosity would get the better of me i think i would be a little freaked out i think and also it depends on what the vibes are so yeah that's fair i want to say that i would because i feel like that would make me seem braver but i feel like i would not and then wish i did later i feel like you would if you had somebody with you if i had someone with me i think i would too Or even if Ember or something, maybe not Amber.

Tucker was with me. If Tucker was with me, maybe I would go. Yeah. I'mber I have to protect too. So maybe not her. And I love that it's unsigned, like a true top secret government employee. Yeah. You know, can't even say anonymous.

It's just like there's nothing. You don't get any information. Like all we know is that the story's true. And it's in Colorado. Which is cool. All right, my last story is titled Happy Trail Turned Trail of Horrors. Hey ladies, I hope you all are having a wonderful week. Today, I've got an animal attack story for you, but first I have to give you some fast context.

One, I work with special needs individuals. They're amazing. The particular client I had on this day, will call him Steve for privacy, was illegally blind. The outdoors were extremely therapeutic for Steve, and I was not about to let his visual impairments hinder that. for him. So I always took Steve hiking on trails I knew were relatively flat and usually paved. Two, I've been around animals my entire life. I grew up on a farm. I hike in the wild and I worked at an animal shelter for six years, taming the scariest of abused Great Danes, the most violent ankle-biting chihuahuas, and a cat that was undoubtedly possessed by Lucifer himself. Basically,

I love and respect animals and they usually like me back. I think they just pick up on the vibes, right? Well, not this one. Picture it. A beautiful sunrise trail on a Tuesday. This one's paved and curves around a lake at a battlefield park and we're walking to a cannon from the Civil War that sits on display. As such, I'm telling Steve old Civil War stories about the area when all at once a boom comes right behind us. Are the local ghost reenacting cannon fire for Steve's story or did a giant tree just fall? Steve and I, turn around towards the noise, and I see two small squirrels just hanging together, trapped in a grapevine. That's right, I can't even be cool in animal attacks. This story is about me being violated by a two-pound rodent. You see, the babies had apparently jumped on a larger dead branch, and that was the cherry on top

that broke it, causing it to fall. They were thankfully fine, just stuck together in the grapevine. I tell Steve to wait there, and I go to untangle them. Then I hear the loudest chirps, and I look up to see Mama's squirrel looking down at me, spinning her tail in a fit of rage so fast that I just know she's about to become a flying squirrel for real with that little propeller of hers. I quickly untangle the babies back away so I don't stress Mom out anymore, and off we go. Until... Steve likes that trail. Steve wants to walk that trail again that Thursday. So we do, because why wouldn't we, right?

We get to the part of the trail where it happened. scene of the crime if you were to ask squirrel mom. And y'all, there she is. Surely this isn't the same squirrel. They're all over the place here, but she looks down at me from the tree. I look up at her, my eyes locking with her little beady ones, and I know, yep, this is her. And yes, and possibly she remembers me. You know those toy monkeys with the symbols? I always imagine those are what squirrels have her brains. I mean, come on. You see how they zigzag in traffic, right? Not the smartest animals. Yet here we are. Two things happened the second we lock eyes. One, she runs down that tree towards me. And two, my heart falls straight into my butt hole. I've come across bears in the woods,

had nothing but a tree between me and an angry cow, and had to give oral antibiotics to a demon of a mini poodle. And I was never so scared as I was of this squirrel. I quickly hide still. I quickly hide, Stephen behind a tree, ready to defend his honor, but it's not Steve. She's after, is it? I tell Steve not to move a muscle and I run. You ran from Steve. Too late, hiding Steve had bought her time. This squirrel climbs my leg like a tree and I almost piss my britches because we know she is going straight for my head. Steve yells, Scruff it, sis. Steve. Steve, it's on me like white on rice and it's all tooth. I can't.

I yell as I'm shaking my legs trying to kick it off. Steve, who is a huge wrestling fan and is clearly enjoying the commotion, says, Go for the tail! So I rip it off my leg by the tail and toss it into a nearby bush yelling, I'm so sorry! And I grabbed Steve by the hand and whisk him away to safety. Steve wanted to go back a few weeks later and although I was apprehend, I obliged. The squirrel was there with her babies fine and happy and we gave her a tree-wide

birth as we passed. All was well from then on. Enjoy the view, but watch your back. You never know when a two-pound ball of rage may climb you like a tree for getting near her babies, even if it was just to help. Love Amber. Amber, thank you for that very visual description of your attack story. I'd be scared too. Something about living. Little animals too. You know, you can't predict, you know, their next move. They're faster than you. Mm-hmm. They're out for blood. Yeah. I've seen, uh, I saw my cousin years and years ago. She got attacked by one of those, um, what are they, they're like, uh, I'm forgetting the name of them. They're not flying squirrels, but a lot of people had them as pets years ago. Sugar babies. Sugar babies.

Yes. Thank you. She got attacked by a sugar baby and it was in the wintertime and we were going over her sister. had one that we were going over to like help feed or something and I was just I was just there to watch I was not handling the sugar baby but she opened the cage and it like jumped out and she was like holding it for a second but then it ran up her arms and she was it was wintertime so she was wearing like a lot of layers long sleeves long pants everything and it got into her jacket and her clothes and started biting her everywhere and she couldn't find it or get it out and she's just like shaking everything trying to get the sugar baby out and like couldn't find it. I'm pretty sure you've told me this before on the show.

Really? I think we've talked about sugar babies before because I don't remember that if you were like, oh, have I ever told you about the sugar baby thing? I would have said no, but that story rings a bell. And I'm pretty sure my response I've said to you before too was remember when the mall of New Hampshire used to sell them. If we have this conversation, I don't remember when the mall of Hampshire used to Oh, you don't remember that?

No. I'm not super shocked, though. They were, like, a really big thing for a little while that everyone was buying sugar babies. I think my, the ex-boyfriend that gives me night terrors and haunts my life forever, I'm pretty sure he had one. Really? Yeah. So you never have a sugar baby? I would never have one just in general because they're just not.

I need an animal that's going to, like, cuddle with me, you know? I think that was the whole thing. They were like, look how cute and cuddly they are. Yeah, but they're so small. I don't know. Stuff like that, I just feel like aren't meant to be pets. I just don't know anything about taking care of them either. I just don't.

Yeah. Yeah. I think there's also something about things being in cages. Yes, I don't like that. Don't like for me personally. I know a lot of people have whether they're rodents or, I don't know, like ferrets or, well, ferrets are rodents, right? I don't know, whatever. I'm not trying to tell people how to live their life.

Yeah, it's just not our cup of tea, yeah. Whether life serves you an ace or an unexpected backhand, the high-protein yogurt, Oikos Pro, is there to feed your strength and help you turn every challenge into a smash. Oikos Pro helps build strong muscles and support muscle recovery with high protein and contains no added sugar, because true strength isn't about being able to take the hits.

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Okay, well, my last. Nope. My last story. is titled Too Close for Comfort. Hello, my name is Pat, and I live in southeast Michigan. I live in the woods outside of Metro Detroit, thank God, with my wife and kids. Are you shaming Detroit? Or are you saying, thank God you live near it.

Or that. I read it the first way, but that's okay. I've never been to Detroit, so I can't say with authority. Me neither. I've only ever watched documentaries on Detroit. We're not happy ones. I've only seen eight miles, so. Which did make me want to live there.

Not going to lie. This is the coolest place I've ever seen in my life. It's like, that could be my life. My wife has been a listener for a few years now, and I have casually listened with her on road trips. Although after our last road trip to Florida for spring break, I have really started to become a dedicated listener. I drive a lot for work, and I have been working my way through all of your episodes. We both have high-stressed jobs.

She is an ER midnight charge nurse working on a master's degree, and I work in the natural gas distribution field. Please call 811 Mistig before digging. No seriously, please do it. Also, we have two wonderful children, but they are, in fact, children, and a lot of work in their own right. We bought a camper a few years ago and have turned into quite the little camping family. We have explored Michigan's Upper Peninsula the last two summers. We are in the early stages of planning a trip west, hoping to get a few national parks along the way. My wife and I thoroughly enjoy getting our kids out into nature.

While our work roles are high stress, we do both love our jobs. I know that sounds weird to say, but it's true. And I tell you this because your podcast is a great, calm, easy listen on my way home from work or in the shower for her after a long shift dealing with the local crazies. I was listening to Trail Episode 69, and you referenced a shirt with the slogan going something like Spawn Until You Die in reference to salmon spawning. That's my shirt. I love that shirt. Yeah, an iconic shirt, really.

I took this as a sign to finally send in my trail tale as it relates to this very thing. Salmon spawning. Every year in the fall, salmon come in from Lake Michigan and run up the rivers. It's basically a last run of glory for the season. fish. They quite literally swim upstream, spawn, and die. One hell of a way to go out if you ask me. This tale takes place in the Huron Manistee National Forest, located in the northwest of Michigan's Lower Peninsula. One of the nice things about northern Lower Michigan is that there aren't many things that can hurt you. Lower Michigan has one rattlesnake, black bears, and coyotes to tend with.

I know that you meant one rattlesnake species, but I'm just imagining all of the singular. Be careful because there's one rattlesnake and it'll get you. Sorry, Pat. I know what you meant. There are always rumors of a cougar or two, which I tend to believe, but I have never seen any sign of them in all of my years in the woods. I've seen one rattlesnake in my years and I live really close to their natural breeding area. I've seen some bear sign over the years, but no real encounters, as they really don't want anything to do with humans, or so I thought. coyotes are everywhere but typically steer clear of humans so it's easy to enjoy the big woods

without much to worry about my dad has been going to salmon camp since the late 1970s and he started bringing my brother and me along when i was nine i'm now 40 and have never missed a year since it's a tradition i look forward to every year my eight-year-old son now has joined the tradition it's been awesome showing him the ropes on how to tango with these sex-driven salmon As a group, we have often talked about how we always thought it was odd that in all of those years, we have never seen any bear sign near the river where all these fish are spawning and dying. However, this story took place a good 15 to 17 years ago. Long before, my wife and children were in the picture. We kept a camp journal.

It's at my former teacher's house, so I'll have to look at what year this actually took place in, but my best guess is sometime around the fall of 2009 or 10. Our camp is at the end of a very rough two-track that sits high on a sandy bluff overlooking the south branch of the Pier Marquette River. It's a gorgeous stretch of river through a forest of mixed cedar and hardwood trees. However, it is a literal maze of horseshoe-like cutbacks. There are trails everywhere, but it is very easy to get lost. If there's a new guy at camp, we do not let them go out on their own. Many parts of the river look very similar, and with a constant zigzag of the river, more than one person has gotten turned around and had a very long day in the woods. If you were to walk

to the riverbanks, you could walk for miles, taking a very long time to get to certain honeyholes. A cousin of mine joined us this particular year. We are the same age, but he is not nearly as experienced in the outdoors as I am. I was, at this point, a seasoned salmon camp vet. I know the trail system extremely well. It's a bit of a race with other fishermen in the mornings to get out to the good holes in the river. If you hit a few of the many cut-through trails, you can cut out a ton of river walking and get to the hotspots much more quickly. It was a crisp fall morning in northern Michigan. The leaves are incredible at that time of year when they all start to turn to their orange, yellow, and reddish hues. As I said, I was in my early 20s. My cousin and I were college kids

loose on the weekend. Sam and Camp could easily be renamed Beer Camp during those years. So you could say that the party started early that day. like a college football tailgate. I led my cousin through the winding trails and thankfully no one was in one of my favorite spots. I was showing my cousin the ropes on how to entice one of these spawning salmon. They have almost no interest in food or eating. They are there to spawn and to die. If you play your cartwright, you can make a male salmon angry by putting your lure through the spawning bed. They have been known to chase and eventually swipe at a crossing lure. This particular morning, we found a group of spawning salmon on a rock bed in the middle of the river. I was able to irritate

a small male salmon known as a jack into biting after a couple of dozen casts and landed him not long after. At this point, I was satisfied and climbed up to the opposite bank to sit on a smaller sand bluff over the river and enjoy my breakfast beer, dead salmon in tow. It was my cousin's turn to give it a try. He gave it his all, casting many times while I sat on the bluff, giving him a few unwanted pointers. My cousin is quite the smart ass, so I was enjoying watching him struggle a bit, but it was all in good fun. We were joking and laughing at his many attempts that went without success. While I was sitting on this little bluff, I kept hearing this clacking and knocking noise. I naturally thought it was one of the many pilliated woodpeckers that roam these parts of the

woods. They are large and can make quite a racket as they go about their business. However, this noise sounded just a little bit different than I was used to. I heard it multiple times. While my brain was noting I was hearing something, the breakfast beers were keeping it from registering. Every five to seven minutes, I would hear this clacking noise, but my dumb ass just kept right on doing what I was doing, which was being oblivious.

My cousin was down in the river with water rushing around his legs so he couldn't hear this noise at all. Eventually my cousin was ready to take a break, We were both hungry and the thought of my dad's famous he-man breakfast hash, think Bob Evans scrambler on steroids covered in bacon and cheese, sounded really good to a couple half-in-the-bag college kids at the moment. My cousin crossed the river and almost fell in. I, of course, did not miss the opportunity to razz him a little bit. Once he climbed up the bluff, we stood there in the sun and took in the pretty scene. The sun was shining brightly down on the river at this point and you could see a lot of salmon spawning in the exact spot my cousin was just standing in.

We both laughed at how stupid these fish can make you feel while you repeatedly swing and miss at them. He asked which way we were going to go back. I, being the expert on the trails, told him there's a little known cut back to the camp just up the river, which is why I like fishing at that particular hole. The path was there, but overgrown more than I remembered it being. Need to waste, high ferns hung out in the walking trail. I started to lead the way. I took about three steps down the trail when we both heard a very last. unmistakable, deep, guttural growl. Whatever it was, it definitely did not want us going any further.

Just as quickly as the grunt is registering in my head, everything snaps through my brain. A real light bulb moment, I had just watched days before this trip, a National Geographic show where conservation officers were tracking and collaring black bears to study them. When they got very close to the bears, the bears would smack their job. together, making a very distinct bone-on-bone-clacking noise. It was at this point that I realized we were way too close to a black bear. Keep in mind, I had literally been standing with my back to this bear with a dead salmon on a stringer for over an hour at this point.

My cousin asked, what was that? And I quickly replied, well, that wasn't a dog. At this point, I saw movement about 20 feet ahead of us along a shadow line in the forest. Ferns were twitching around and a second grunt came from them. We froze for what seemed like 30 seconds before my brain decided it was time to get the heck out of there. My cousin was a bit shaken at the realization that came to him about what was in front of us. I started to back up slowly down the trail. I bumped into my cousin who was stuck frozen.

I whispered, I'm not joking, back up or this might get really bad. All we had to defend ourselves were a couple of ugly stick-fifes. fishing poles, a few pocket knives, and a dead salmon, and a plastic grocery bag with empty beer cans in it. The thought did cross my mind to just throw the jack onto the path and get out of there, but I really wanted to keep that fish. In hindsight, just gift the bear the fish, Patrick. After I got my cousin to slowly start stepping backwards, we made it back up to the bluff at the edge of the river. I told my cousin to go down the hill 30 yards and see if there was anything at the bottom of the trail. I stayed on top of the bluff, never taking my eyes off the direction the grunts were coming from.

Thankfully, the coast was clear and I slowly made my way down to the trail. As quickly as the grunts came, they stopped. No more clacking noises were heard. When I felt more comfortable with the distance we had put between ourselves and the big patch of ferns, we turned around and high-tailed it back to camp. I played it safe and took the long way back, avoiding that general area. It took much longer to get back, but it was much safer. We crossed paths with multiple fishermen along the way, and I was quick to warn them to steer clear of that area.

And eventually, we made it back to camp. Tired, thirsty and hungry, true to form, my dad was there waiting for his he-man hash. The cheesy potato baking goodness never tasted so good. We told everyone the story. They were thankful we were okay, but did have quite the laugh at me standing there like a jack wagon with a fresh dead fish in my hands while a black bear was trying to tell me, hey bro, you're in my personal space. We never actually completely saw the bear, but the grunts and the jaw smacking were good enough for me to take the warning. The following day, we drove to the small general store in town for more supplies.

Supplies, which I think is code for beer. And I asked if anyone had seen a bear in the area that we were fishing in. The old timer behind the counter quickly told us all about a large black bear sow spotted in the area with two cubs. I'm not going to lie, I got a shiver down my spine hearing that. There are very few things that can hurt you in the Michigan Big Woods, but this was most definitely one of them, and I was stupidly in the crosshairs of an angry sow. My bear story gets brought up at least once every year. We always have a good laugh at my cousins, and mainly at my idiocy.

Things are much tamer these days at camp, as I like sleeping more than breakfast beers, but I will make the trip every year to dance with some salmon and enjoy the northern Michigan big woods. Enjoy the view, but seriously watch your back, especially if you're holding a day. dead fish. I love your show. I will continue to sing its praises and work my way through all of your episodes. P.S. Shout out to the ER nurses, doctors and staff. You are all literally lifesavers that do not get enough credit. And also, please call 811 Mistig, you weekend project warriors. It's a free service and will keep guys like me from showing up in the middle of the night to

fix your gas lines. Emergent responses from a utility company aren't cheap. I'm just saying. Keep on, keeping on, lovely ladies, much love from Pat and the fam in Michigan. I mean, that is great advice. It is. Very good advice. And that story reminded me so much of our story. Because when we were on the trail and the way, I forget which, was it Musilok? I think it was Musilok when we heard a bear when we were walking, but we also did not see it.

And we also didn't register it right away. and it was very close. Same thing. It's like, okay, this is freaking me, us out. It feels close and ominous, so we're going to back away. And then as soon as we got service, while we were having the best meal because we had gotten lost and we're tired and drained. It was a whole freaking thing. And we looked it up on YouTube and sure shit.

Angry Black Bear. Yep. You know what this story actually reminded me of? It's another thing that happened to us. And it was actually when we were in Mount St. Helens. And do you remember when we were walking back on the trail in Mount St. Helens and there was that noise. Yes. And we had no idea what it was.

And it was like this guttural like growling. Vibration like humming. And we're like, what is that? Is that like a weird noise? Mountain lions make that we're not aware of. Like what is it? And it freaked us out for a minute. And then we found out it was grouse.

Yes. That was the first time I've ever heard of Krause in real life. Well, it's so funny because I was in Yosemite last week and I was visiting a friend of mine, Claire, who's a guide in Yosemite. And we were hiking to Cloud's Rest and we were hiking on our way back. And she goes, hold on. Wait, wait, a second. She's like, do you hear that? And I hear that.

It's the hum. And she's like, I do not know what it is. She's like, I've only heard it one other time and it scared me. Like, do you know what that is? And I was like, I do know what it is actually. I was like, that's a grouse. And she was like, no way. And she like looks it up.

And it had, she had a really similar story where the sound freaked her out. She didn't know what it was. She had only heard it one other time. And when we were hiking down, she heard it. And I solved a mystery that she had, she had been looking to find the answers to because of our experience where we were also. So during this story, that was the thing that I was thinking about a lot was our experience in Mount St. Helens. Yeah, well, to our credit, I mean, we went that day, they had trail closures because of mountain lion activity. And we saw some mountain lions got on the trail that we were on.

So we were on high alert. Our brains were, at least mine was all about mountain lions. And a little bird was not on my radar. No. Anywho. I didn't know that they made that noise either. It's like, you can feel it. You can feel the vibration in your chest.

So it feels like they're bigger than they are, I think. Because you're like, what is that noise? Why is it like thumbing? It's, yeah, it's very, it's interesting. But I experienced it again recently. Yeah. Hunters are probably like, yeah, okay, girls. We know.

Everyone knows. We're just girls. And we say that all the time. Yeah. Okay. Well, that's it for our main episode. As always, we have two bonus stories for Patreon and Apple subscribers. Mine is titled My Failed Mental Health Night. And mine is titled, She Was There That Night.

Dot, dot, dot, dot. I can't wait to find out. I hope it's actually, like, freaky because I didn't have read it like it's really. I imagine it's like so wholesome. But you'll only find out if you join. us on Patreon or Apple subscriptions because this is only for outsiders. That is true. Well, we'll see you there. Hopefully, if not, we'll catch you next week. In the meantime, enjoy the view.

But watch you're back. Bye. Bye. Thanks for joining us for another episode. We hope you learn something new and have another location to put on your list. If you want more MPAD content, make sure to follow along with our adventures on all socials at National Park After Dark. For more stories just like this one with the added bonus of exclusive content, you can join us on Patreon or Apple subscriptions. If you prefer to watch our episodes, head over to our YouTube channel.

And if you're enjoying the show, please take a moment to rate, review, and subscribe on your favorite listening platform. Want to talk ETS with the people behind them? Join me, it's Jan Jean-Cabouchard on the Upside Ticker Talk. We dive into what's moving markets with timely analysis, trends, and answers to ETF questions you've actually. actually been thinking about. Hit play on the upside ticker talk and elevate your ETF investing IQ. Hey y'all. It's Kelly Clarkson with Wayfair. Ever order furniture online and wonder what if? Like what if it doesn't hold up? That sofa was four days old. You should have ordered from Wayfair. With Wayfair, there's no what if. Just style you love and quality

you can trust. Visit Wayfair.ca.