National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 103: Grand Canyon Ghosts, RV Bats & Paranormal Wedding Crashers

Episode Date: October 8, 2026

Today’s stories include Grand Canyon Ghosts, RV bats, emergency poops, paranormal wedding crashers, local lore, and lovestruck teenage protectors. Outsiders Only bonus stories available for Patreon and Apple Subscribers! 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! Thank you to this week’s sponsors!Keeper: Right now, Keeper's offering 60% off personal and family plans at Keeper Password Manager Podcast Listener Discount Quince: Find the fall pieces you’ll reach for most at Quince. Download the Quince app for app-exclusive offers, or go to Quince dot com. Get free shipping on your order and 365-day returns. Now available in Canada and the UK, too. Lola: Get 40% off select Lola Blankets products at Lolablankets.com by using code NPAD at checkout. Experience the world’s #1 blanket with Lola Blankets #ad #sponsor Alloy: Try the original M4 skincare from Alloy. Visit Online Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) | Menopause Treatment - Alloy and use code NPAD for 20% off your first order! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hello everyone. Welcome back to National Park After Dark, our Trail Tales episode, and happy fall. Happy fall. We're officially in October, which I think everyone in New England at least can say hands down is the best month. Yeah, we hope everyone is getting spooky and drinking your pumpkin spice lattes and going apple picking and all the things that happen in October. Okay. Can I just say that, and I don't know if this is a new thing or if I'm, I'm just noticing it. But I noticed Dunkin' Donuts had put on pumpkin stuff, like drinks and, you know, flavored things at the end of August. Yeah, the same thing happened at Panera. Is this?

Are we creeping up into? I don't. It's like, it's like Thanksgiving. Or Black Friday. Oh, yeah. It starts right now pretty much. It's like get ready for Black Friday. Black Friday that used to be.

It's like, it gets earlier and earlier and earlier. It's like, let's just keep things contained a little bit because I think it preserves the magic a little bit. Because Black Friday was Black Friday because it happened on a singular day. It's not Black Friday weekend, Black Friday week. It is now. Or at least it's not supposed to be. Yeah. It is now.

I feel similarly about the pumpkin stuff. I don't know. It's just kind of, it's like, it's still summer. Why are we doing this? Yeah. It's like I'm not ready. Don't make me be cold yet. I love fall, but.

But like one summer was short this year. Well, summer was short especially for you because your window was very small in Idaho. Yeah. Yeah. I need to go somewhere warm this winter because I'm truly not ready to be cold. Okay. Just think about it. I'm thinking.

And I hate to say this because we always do this. We're like, we're going to relax once we're done being crazy for work and travel. And we're in the midst of that right now fighting for our lives. But just think about it for my birthday celebration. I was thinking maybe we could go to the U.S. Virgin Islands because there is a park there. I could be convinced. And it is warm. I would like to be warm.

And we should celebrate your birthday. Just think about it. And you should be warm for your birthday because you don't get that up very often. I know. Okay. Well, we can circle back on that at some other point. But for right now, we have Trail Tales and, yeah, let's get down to them. Do you want me to go first or would you like to go first?

You can go first. Okay. Okay. My first story is titled Local Lore. Hello, ladies. I started listening to your podcast in order to get over some depression a few years ago. something else to do besides just walking. I started in the summer of 2024 and as of today, August of 26, I'm almost caught up. I love what you two do and I hope you know you're helping

people probably more than you know. I was recently listening to Trail Tales 83 or maybe 84 and a woman was talking about a cryptid that her husband had seen as a child in northeastern Ohio and the research she had done on cryptids of the northeast. She mentioned no face Charlie in Pennsylvania and my memory tingled. So I googled it. As a child, I did not know him as No Face Charlie. I knew him as the green man. Born and raised about 45 minutes northwest of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, No Face Charlie, was from my neighboring town and he was real. Let me skip forward to a trip I took to Florida to visit my uncles one summer. They grew up just down the street from where I did and their father, my grandfather was a teller of the tallest tall tales and had invented a few of his very own cryptids,

creatures that wandered the vast forests behind my house. We were laughing and giggling about the headless calf, the man with a head as big as a wagon wheel that followed him home one night, and I mentioned, ooh, have you heard the one about the green man? They both looked at each other and made a face, then a grin, then looked back at me and urged me to go on. You know, He wanders the train tracks and playgrounds between Elwood City, the town I'm from, and Kople at night, glows green, and is never seen during the day. My uncle smiled again, and I said, what? To which they replied, you're talking about Ray.

We knew him well. Used to take him beer and cigarettes during the daylight when he'd run out. The rest of this tale, I've pieced together from what my uncles told me and what I've researched online. To us, Raymond Robinson was known as the Green. man, and for good reason. He did in fact give off a green hue when you saw him, which is why he only ever ventured out at night. When Ray was eight years old, he climbed a pole to reach for a bird's nest and contacted electrical wires that provided power for the local trolley lines. Due to the voltage,

he was severely disfigured, losing his eyes, nose, and right arm. According to my uncles, the amount of skin grafts Ray had to have to recover from the electrical burns for some. some reason gave him a green cast. Some stories recount that there were no graphs at all and that the green cast just came from the sheer amount of voltage that he received. Other accounts say that he was a mill worker, very common to that part of Western Pennsylvania and was injured on the job. Over the years, his story has been exaggerated many times over and has become the stuff of local lore. But in real life, many people who knew Ray Robinson said he was one of the kindest souls anyone could have ever met. Even without his vision, he produced small wares like wallets and belts and door mats that could be

sold to help out at home. Family and friends recount that he never spoke of his injuries, disfigurement, or really complained at all. He just liked getting out for some fresh air. Ray passed away in a nursing home in 1985 just a few days before the 66th anniversary of his accident. He was buried nearby in a cemetery overlooking the bridge where his accident occurred. Like many ghost stories, legends and lore, this one has some truth to it. However, for me, having a family that personally knew this ghost and having been friends with him warms my heart. So enjoy the view, but watch your back because sometimes the legends are real, but friendly. Kiza.

Wow. What a cool story. To hear where the lore began. Yeah. And I think about that all the time. Like we were talking kind of recently just about the origins of stories that get circulated around and stuff. And it's like there's always a little kernel of truth to things like where there's smoke,

there's fire. And I always think about even the craziest like spun yarns really does trace back to something or someone. And to have like a very personal connection with a local legend is. Pretty cool. Yes. I want to become a local legend. I want some weird stuff to be. Hmm. What would you do? Hmm. I don't know. I'll have to think about that. I don't know what I'd be. Like what would you haunt? Would you be like a local like ghost or you're just saying you want your legend to persist in some way? I think I would want like something outlandish to be like, you know, where there's like the old house up on the hill, there's like a witch who lives in there kind of thing.

Yeah, I picture you as like, you know how people hire at Etsy witches and stuff. Yeah, I've hired an Etsy witch. I know. I was there. I participated in a ritual or a spell that one gave us. Yes. But like I picture like people conjuring you when they need help to like get back at a like bad boyfriend. Ooh, I love that actually.

It's like, I'll come back and slash his tires or like put bad luck in his path or inconvenience him in a really annoying way. You know, like I just like nothing serious, but it's like I'm going to make your ex-boyfriend stub his toe really bad today. Yeah. That's how I picture you. I love that. Good. just saying like the spirit of Cassie is so fun why can't I start now I'm sure sure why I don't have to wait till I'm dead I don't know get ahead start that's fine yeah join my Etsy shop

you're busy enough NPA right now for me to curse your boyfriend ex-boyfriend I love that well I guess it's my turn to tell a story all right my story is titled my honeymoon got crashed by grumpy ghost. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. First, thank you lovely ladies for all that you do. My friend introduced me to NPAD back in 2022 when we worked for the traveling department of an outdoor education company. We went all around New England teaching kids outside and always had you two accompanying

us on our long drives. I also need to thank you for introducing me to tooth and claw. Both podcasts inspired me to go for my master's in wildlife ecology and manager. and furthered my love for bears. Now, my high school students get to hear all about bears whether they want to or not. Okay, now into my trail tale. This is the story of my haunted honeymoon. My husband's grandparents were gracious enough to rent an Airbnb for us as a wedding present in Maine,

which is our favorite state, where we officially started dating and got engaged too. They found what looked like a quiet, cozy cabin that overlooked a small river at the base of two mountains. I won't say the actual name of the cabin, but I will say it was named after an original owner who was a grumpy old man. When we first got there, it seemed like your typical Mainer cabin with rustic charm and glowing reviews from previous renters. We spent the first day lazily reading on the porch and exploring the river below. When night came, an overwhelming, eerie feeling came over me. I couldn't tell if it was the edibles or just being in a new place, so I didn't say anything. to my husband. The next morning, the feeling went away, so I thought I was just being my paranoid self.

That night, the eerie feeling came back. It felt like we were not wanted or welcomed, and the feeling continued each night of the week long stay. Again, I couldn't tell if I was being paranoid or what. One thing to mention is the basement to this place was off limits. Okay, no big deal, probably storage. But the entrance to the basement was an open staircase that opened into the the living room, right across from the front door, and it was always pitch black. I got this constant sense not to look down into the basement and told my husband the same. One night, I had a flash in my mind of something creepy and unhappy in the cabin, and it resided down in the basement. Again, I wasn't sure if it was the edible I had taken, but I decided I had to tell my husband the

next day. After a hike the next morning, we headed out to a spot for lunch. I asked my husband while we were out, hey, do you feel weird in the cabin, especially at night slash dusk? He looked at me casually and said, I don't want to talk about it because I don't want to offend it. That made my stomach drop because that meant it wasn't just me and my imagination he had felt it to. Something to note about my husband is that he is a blunt, honest to a fault man. Another thing to know is that he has been haunted more times than I can count, especially by our apartment ghost I affectionately named Edith after my best friend's college apartment ghost. Edith has stood next to him countless times at night, watched him from behind his computer screen, so her face was staring back at him and even reached

across the keyboard. At night, she would wander from the kitchen down the hallway, seen by myself and my husband as well. So when he told me he felt something to at the main cabin, I immediately asked, so we're packing up and leaving early, right? To which he replied, absolutely yes. The owners of the cabin were absolutely lovely people so we didn't want to tell them what we felt and no other reviews mentioned an uneasy feeling, several saying they would be back again.

We told the owners we had a family emergency, had to end our stay early, and thank them for our stay. We didn't speak of it again until we left the next morning and we were at least half an hour away. We agreed while it didn't feel malicious, it was definitely not happy to have us in its space, and we were both very relieved to head back to our kinder apartment ghost.

This tale has a happy ending because my husband surprised me and took me to the main wildlife preserve in gray. All animals there either require care due to injury, etc., or becoming reliant on humans. When we went, I was able to see Black Bear and my husband happily listened to all the fun facts I had for the next several hours as we walked the preserve. Hope you enjoyed the tale of how a ghost crashed our honeymoon. Thanks for all that you do. Well, the good news is your husband is, or you're like at the time your new husband, past the test. You get bad vibes.

You're out of there. There's no argument. There's no dismissal. There's like, yeah, let's go. He's like, I feel it too. Let's get out of here. Yep. That's a good sign.

And it's nice that you have a friendly ghost. But your hauntings back at your house are I would be more scared of personally. But I'm glad Edith is nice. Yeah. Edith sounds like she has a crush on your husband. Yeah. She just wants to be around him. Yeah.

Okay. My next story is titled, I wasn't lost. I was just pooping. After hearing my first Trail Tales episode in 2024, I knew I needed to share one with you both. I've honestly had this written since August of 2024, but, for reasons I genuinely cannot explain I never sent it in. Although deeply embarrassing, some would consider this a canon event, one that I and apparently everyone else involved will never forget.

After graduating high school, I left my very rural Michigan hometown for a college town, where I studied zoology and worked nonstop to afford my new city life. I loved my job, my friends, and the freedom until summer hit, and suddenly the place that once felt like an escape started to feel suffocating. That spring, I took a parks and rec class and something clicked. I felt this overwhelming pull to go west. I had never been on a real hike. My parents weren't outdoorsy.

I knew essentially nothing about public lands, but I was determined to travel and see mountains whatever it took. I started researching seasonal jobs and found a conservation corps in Montana. They placed me with a Forest Service trail crew in northern Idaho in a stunning forest near the Montana border. I was 19. I had zero experience with national forests or outdoor recreation, and suddenly I was expected to hike miles every day through completely unfamiliar terrain.

My supervisor, we will call him Henry, was a very experienced outdoorsman who taught me so much about the forest. Since there were only two of us working in our zone, we spent every day one-on-one going out on the trails, talking, learning, and fixing them up. I felt very fortunate for getting that opportunity. Unfortunately, I was not exactly a natural. For the first couple weeks, hiking those trails absolutely killed me, and we were noticeably slower than Henry wanted us to be, as he was used to competitively trail running in his free time.

But Henry seemed to have a lot of trust in me. Since we were the only two people on our zone's trail crew, he wanted to get me chainsaw certified so we could start doing some more meaningful trail work. So after only being there for a few weeks, I started my chainsaw courses. I went through multiple days of classes, safety lectures, and training, and finally it was time to get into the field for our hands-on test. Henry was not there with me, so I had to drive my own truck solo to the meeting location, following this large fleet of trucks up to a location about two miles off the main road, going up steep hills and muddy terrain. Of course, the one Genzi volunteer gets stuck in the mud and doesn't know how to use her for.

wheel drive, and I'm in the very back, first red flag of the day. Someone nice enough saw me get stuck, got out, put my truck in four-wheel drive, and we were on our way. It was a clear, sunny day in Northern Idaho. Henry had loaned me a pair of boots for the day because I had somehow managed to lose mine the day prior, which is a long story in and of itself. These were brand new, fireproof boots, and they were the heaviest boots I had ever stomped around in. I swear they added three more pounds to each of my feet. They were also a size too big. Walking around in them, especially up and downhills, was more of a chore than it should have been. I was one of the only people there with absolutely zero chainsaw experience, so I wasn't in any rush to take my test. I was sitting back,

watching the more experienced sawers, learning everything I could. My confidence was high, I was excited, I was ready to eventually get my hands on a chainsaw, but first I had to pee. I told the group I was going to find a spot somewhere over the nearby hill and started walking away from the group. As I reached the other side, I looked back and realized I could still clearly see the group, mostly men, of course. So I kept walking, another hill and then another. Eventually, they were completely out of sight. Exhausting from lugging around my gigantic new boots, I found the perfect spot, a grassy bench covered in wildflowers overlooking a beautiful range of mountains. Honestly, it was a pretty incredible bathroom. I even took a video of the scenery.

Pants are down. Moral is up. Time to go back. I turned around and started the harder-than-normal trek back towards the group. I could hear the chainsaw is loud and clear and figured I'd see everyone as soon as I made it over the last hill. I reached the top. Nobody was there.

Okay, I must have walked farther than I realized. Another hill. Still no one. Another. Nothing. Everything around me started. looking strangely familiar, but also completely unfamiliar at the same time. I could still hear the chainsaws, but now they sounded like they were coming from a different

direction. So I changed direction. I walked for another 10 minutes. The chainsaws sounded like they were coming from everywhere. I would walk towards them and then somehow they would seem farther away and then all of a sudden every chainsaw stopped. Silence. Did I really walk that far away? I must have been going in the completely wrong direction. At this point, I was terrified of something that, in retrospect, was almost as embarrassing as being lost. I was going to have to admit that I was lost. I was one of the few women in the group and the only volunteer employee. In my anxious brain, getting lost this close to a road and a group of people running chainsaws

was somehow much more humiliating than it was scary. I didn't want anyone to know that I was gone. I just wanted to find my way back, walk into camp like nothing happened, and pretend my bathroom break had taken slightly longer than expected. Except now, 30 minutes had passed, and that excuse was becoming less believable by the minute. I was sweating. I was wearing long sleeves, long pants, and those absolutely enormous boots, which were becoming harder and harder to pick up as I trudged over hill after hill. I started hyperventilating. So I sat down on a log, tried to catch my breath, and pulled out my phone. Except, of course,

we were deep in the forest. No service. I had been gone for more than 30 minutes. Surely they would be worried by now. Maybe they had stopped sawing because they were looking for me. Oh my God, I was ruining everything and I was so embarrassed. So I decided to pull out my last resort. I pressed the power button on my iPhone five times. The emergency SOS screen appeared and I just stared at it. I had no idea what it was actually going to do without cell service. But after a few moments of rationalizing, I figured I had nothing to lose. I slid the button over. Instead of telling me I was completely screwed, my phone displayed an infographic explaining the newly updated sat messaging system and how to connect with emergency services. Okay, I could work with this. I didn't have a radio,

but everyone else in the group did. If I could just get a hold of someone with a radio and let them know that I wasn't in immediate danger, that I was just a fucking idiot, everything would be okay. So I did what the phone told me. I walked around holding it above my head, looking for a satellite signal until I finally got a connection. It automatically sent emergency services, my location, and gave me a list of options for what was happening. Lost or trapped seemed pretty accurate. I made sure they knew I wasn't in danger. I just needed to get in contact with my group, so they knew I was trying to find my way back.

I gave them the names of the instructors I was with, my name, and as much information as I could. They assured me that they had contacted the Forest Service and passed along my information. And immediately, my anxiety shifted from, oh my God, I'm lost in the forest to, oh God, the entire forest has radios. Anyone could have heard that call. My supervisor was going to know, everyone was going to know, and I couldn't imagine what they were thinking. I walked around aimlessly for another 10 minutes, messaging back and forth with the local county sheriff's office until I finally found a road. I picked a direction and started walking. And then I saw them.

A huge fleet of white forest service trucks. The same trucks that had brought me into this mess in the first place. And there they were. Everyone was sitting around the trucks with their lunchboxes open. Nobody was searching. Nobody looked particularly concerned. As I got closer, I started hearing chatter over the radios. Then I heard the names I had just given the county sheriff.

And that's when I realized they had taken lunch about 10 minutes after I left. So nobody was looking for me. No one even knew I was lost. I heard one of the instructors say to another, hey, I think dispatch is trying to get a hold of you. At this point, I'm walking towards the trucks with tears streaming down my face, sweating profusely, and completely rattled. I yelled back, don't worry, it's good. I'm all good. It's fine. I walked over to my truck, climbed into the driver seat, shut the door, and just sobbed. The main instructor eventually walked over, opened the door, and checked to make sure I was okay. I explained everything that had happened. And he looked at me with a bit of guilt and said that nobody had come looking for me

because everyone assumed I was just pooping. And with guys, like guys poop for so long. So, like, this is normal. What is with that also? I don't know. All men take at least 30 minutes to take a shit. And I wholeheartedly believe that you're not actively pooping for 30 minutes. And if you are, seek medical help because that's not help. Like something is awry. Yeah. No way.

They're just scrolling on their phones. I don't like people. When you bring your phone into a bathroom, I hate having to bring my phone into a bathroom. Like when you're out in public, like your purse or something. You all the bacteria and shit that's just flying around in there. Yeah. I don't like it. It's gross.

But anyway. I do not poop and scroll. I don't have time. I don't have the time. Why do I want to sit on an open toilet with my pants down defecating for 30 minutes? It's gross. I have better things to do. It is gross.

But anyway. You should tell Al this. I will. I'll text him right now. He's probably pooping somewhere. He's probably pooping somewhere for sure. Like, if you want privacy in a loan time, you can seek it out in other ways. It doesn't have to be a bathroom.

No. But it's not, it's like a universal guy thing. No, yeah. Yeah. It's like they all came together and decided that this was their alone time. It's like, we'll understand if you need a long time. Just pick a different type of activity, please. So that really does explain why they weren't looking for you.

Yeah, because they're like, A, this is normal. Like, this is a normal amount of time. 45 minutes is standard. But also, if she truly is one of the only women in this group, they're like, we're not, who knows what's happening over there and we don't want to get involved. You know. Yeah, that's true. So, okay.

I wish I could say I handled that information with dignity. I did not. Apparently, everyone else had already finished taking their chainsaw. tests, which meant it was my turn. He was incredibly kind and gave me the option to come back the next day when I was less rattled. But after wiping my tears, taking a breath and accepting that my dignity was already gone, I put my chaps back on and I cut down my first tree. I walked away from the experience with the chainsaw certification and some fresh trauma. And somehow, that wasn't the end of it. The next summer, I went back to Idaho to visit some

friends. At a little get-together, I was chatting with friends and familiar faces when I introduced myself to someone I had never met before. He paused. That sounds really familiar. I have a pretty unique first name, so I drunkenly said, yeah, I kind of got lost in the forest last year. I had actually already heard from someone working in that forest that summer that they were using my situation in their chainsaw safety classes as an example of what not to do.

So I was mostly joking until he goes, oh yeah, I did hear about that. Okay, cool, cool, cool. So apparently a year later, I was still a chainsaw safety story. Thankfully, this did not scare me away from exploring our forests, quite the opposite. I ended up having one of the best summers of my life, and that experience ultimately helped me land a seasonal forest service position just south of Grand Teton. Sadly, it didn't last long, thanks Trump, but I ended up meeting the love of my life out here and haven't left since. So I guess there is a moral to this story. Always tell someone how long you're going to be gone, even if you're just going to the bathroom, and maybe bring a radio.

Avenza would have been helpful, too, if only Henry would have told me about that, because getting lost in the forest is scary. Getting lost in the forest and almost accidentally activating a search and rescue response because everyone thought you were taking a really long shit is much, much worse. And no, I didn't attach the video from my bathroom break, but I did attach screenshots of the text that were sent to, and from the local authorities. The noteworthy, don't be embarrassed. You are having an adventure text from the kind soul working dispatch that day has forever lived with me. Also, I had to include a photo of my dog because she looks just like Danielle's dog. Oh, yay.

There's no sign off. But just know that whoever you are out there, you got those chaps back on, you got back on the horse, and you're better for it. So good for you. I loved that story. I thought it was so funny. Being used as an example, after you had like such an embarrassing situation is so funny in retrospect. Yeah, it's like you thought you put it behind you, but now everyone's like, don't do this when you go out. And this is how legend starts. If you're pooping, make sure you don't get lost.

This is how they start. This is the kernel of truth. It is. A hundred years from now. You're going to be the wandering woman of the forest. Who poops. Who poops? It's like I wasn't even pooping.

I thought that that detail is like pertinent, but it's like, oh my God. I was peeing, but it's fine. So funny. All right, my next story is titled Grand Canyon Ghost Story. Hey, you two. I've been listening to your show for a while now and really enjoy. it. Thanks for keeping me entertained while I'm at work. A while back, I was a guide at Grand Canyon National Park and I got so many stories and great memories of that place. A few of them are spooky.

To explain the work, as a guide, I was in charge of saddling up the mules every morning and taking guests from all over the world on the overnight trip to the bottom of the canyon. Interpreting the history of the area as we go along, refilling canteens, cutting up apples, and keeping people alive in some pretty intense weather. Guides usually went down to the bottom twice a week, and we would spend the rest of our time running a trip along the rim, cleaning the barn, or legging up. Legging up the mules meant riding them a few miles down,

the bright angel, and back to keep them exercised and conditioned to the work and in good shape. And it was our lazy day because we didn't run guests and just entertained ourselves. One day, me and one of the other guides had just finished saddling up to go hit the trail, and I needed to take a bathroom break before we did. A few minutes later, I was walking out of the office, tying my chaps back on when my other guide, let's call her Jenny, rushed me and grabbed me by my shoulders and started yelling and swearing. I couldn't think of anything I had done to piss her off, but then again, it was only the morning. After Jenny collected herself, she explained that she was standing by the mules where they were still hitched to the grain rail

and that all of the sudden the air turned ice cold all near her. I don't recall that it was summer by then, but the weather was fair. You might need a light vest if you're from Texas like I am, but that's to say I thought it was strange. Jenny said she heard whistling. Not like calling up the mules, but like someone was going around with his hands in his pockets, trying to carry a tune.

Then I started to think about where we were. The mule barn is historic and has seen generations of cats, outboys and packers come through here. I knew spirits lingered around here and was thinking about it a while as I finished my coffee and then something hit me. What if an old trail boss had stopped to say hello? Ron Clayton was the manager before the man I worked for at the time and he was legendary to say the least. A veteran, an old school mule packer and from what I've heard, one of the friendliest men you could meet. There are still YouTube videos of his orientation speech for the rides you can find, and they're very entertaining. When I arrived, Mr. Clayton was near the end of his

days, and he would pass sometime later, and the stories about the man circulated well through the camp. So when we got back, the current manager came by to see how we were doing, and I asked him if Ron Clayton ever whistled while he worked. Yeah, he was known for that, it seems. Maybe the old master mule skinner came back to the place he was happiest. Maybe the barn wasn't clean enough for his standards. I'll never know. But Jenny didn't want to be left by herself in the mule barn after that. Keep the stories coming. Stay warm. John. I love that. And it reminds me that like, we need to go to the Grand Canyon and we should probably go down. For sure. Yeah. We're going to have to do that. Yeah, we got to make it a big, like we can't just go and look at it. It has to be an excursion.

we either have to raft or we have to take the, we're going to have to do it big because. Yeah. I agree. Yeah. I don't think we could just get there and just like put our hands on her hips and be like, well, we made it. Here it is. Check. Yeah. There's too much of a lead up. Like the fact that you've only been there as a small child and I've never been there at all. And it's just such an iconic location. We have to go bigger, go home. That's right. Okay, my last story is titled The RV Bat. Hi, Danielle and Cassie. I've been listening to your podcast for a couple of years now, and I'm a huge fan. This summer, I'm hiking the PCT with my boyfriend, and your podcast has been keeping me entertained throughout.

I look forward to your new episodes every week. I honestly have a couple of stories to tell, but this one in particular takes the cake. Oh, and my name is Shelby, and my trail name is chicken. So let me paint you the scene. I'm a northbound. hiker. I started in Mexico and my end goal is Canada. While we were in Oregon, my parents started slackpacking us so we could make big miles. We would hike with the bare minimum, mostly food and water, and meet them at a trailhead 30 to 35 miles north. While we were doing this, they brought their 24 foot RV so we could wake up in the RV, have breakfast made for us, and go out for our hike, and then sleep in the RV at the end of the day. I want to preface this by saying

we normally aren't in an RV every night, but for one week we were. You don't have to, like, justify that. That sounds like the best of both worlds. Yeah, it does. To me. So. My boyfriend and I were sleeping above the driver's seat in a small enclosed bed. I'll attach a photo.

You can't sit up or you'll bonk your head. And there are small curtains you can pull across for privacy. There's also one small window by our feet. So here's what happened. My boyfriend and I had just. Hiked 30 miles that day, and we were heading to bed. We climbed up to our bed, got under the blankets, and settled in for the night. We both fell asleep around 9 p.m. Around midnight, how early are you getting up? To be in bed by 9 p.m., but also hiking 30 miles. You got to be getting up really early.

Well, you know, yes, getting up really early. I feel like when I talk to my friend who was doing the AT, They pretty much started hiking as soon as the sun came up. And you go to bed as soon as it's dark out pretty much. But also through hikers can move fast once they've been on the trail for a while. It's like stunning to me. 30 miles is a lot. It's a lot of miles. Yeah.

Especially when you're consecutively doing it. It's not like you're training for this one day. You bust out 30 miles. And like you're, it's like you're repeatedly doing this. every single day. It's, I don't know if I'm built for that, but I applaud you. Okay, so anyway, where are we? Around midnight, I woke up to something flying around my face. I kept feeling something on me. Before I was completely awake, I thought a butterfly had somehow gotten to our little cubby. I was very confused until I woke up and realized it was a bat. It was flying down

towards my feet and then back up towards my head. It was definitely panicked and trying to get out. I quickly woke up my boyfriend and was like, there is a bat in here. He was laying on his stomach, so I didn't think he felt it flying around like I did. At this point, I started panicking a bit. I didn't want the bat touching me. It had already touched my face, the back of my head, my neck and arm with what I assume was its wings. And it was freaking me out. I hid my body under the blankets and buried my face into my boyfriend. My boyfriend was able to open the window by our feet to see if the bat would get out on its own. Surprise, surprise, it would not leave or maybe it just didn't know how to. I started to get more stressed, but I didn't want to wake up my parents because

they were sleeping at the opposite end of the trailer. The bat eventually landed and my boyfriend came up with the idea to hold a blanket up to the ceiling so it wouldn't come near our faces again. We then started slowly moving the blanket towards the window so the bat would hopefully get corralled out. At least, that was our hope. While we were sliding, the blanket over, the bat got past it. I almost screamed and dropped the blanket and at that point I said, I'm done, I'm getting out. So I hopped out of the bed and went to wake up my parents. But when I did, the bat left the enclosed space and was now flying around the kitchen area. I quickly went into the bathroom, closed the door, and told my parents to stay in their room.

My boyfriend was able to open the RV door and finally the bat flew out. This all happened in the span of about 15 minutes. No clue how long it was in our cubby area before I woke up. It was one of the scariest experiences of my life, even though it was just a tiny little bat. It was definitely a rude awakening. I am normally not someone who keeps my cool, and I'm surprised I kept it together until after the bat departed. My boyfriend was the real hero of the story who kept calm the entire time and took the initiative to get the bat out. We eventually both went back to sleep. We were too tired to even think about what had happened. In the morning, I texted a friend I had met on the trail who is a practicing MD.

He told me I should go to the ER right away and get PEP, or rabies post-exposure prophylaxis. So I got off trail and went to the ER. The ER doctor said it was a good thing I came in because apparently the bats they have in organ are super small, and you can't always tell if they had bitten you. Anywho, I had to get three shots, two in my arms, and one. one in my thigh. And the shots were not easy. A flu shot usually contains about 0.5 mil liters of fluid, while my rabies shots were 5 mils. I got two mils in each arm and one in my thigh. As I'm writing this, I'm still not done with the series. I have to go back on days three, seven, and 14. I'll get back on

the PCT the day of my third shot, so I'll have to figure out where to get my seventh and 14th day shots. I know you're going to ask what my boyfriend did. Well, he doesn't have insurance, so he couldn't afford to get the vaccine. So he kept hiking. He felt comfortable not getting it and the bat did not touch him as much as it did me. So that's my trail tale. It was a crazy night and I still don't even know how the bat got in. I think I now have a phobia of bats, but you know what?

If it makes for a fun story, I guess it's worth it. Who else on the PCT has needed to get a rabies shot? because I definitely did not have that on my PCT bingo card. I added a picture of me at the ER as well. Hope you're not afraid of needles. I think I'll laugh more about it in the future, but I hope you guys get a good laugh out of it now. You guys are the best,

and I can't wait for the next episode to come out. I also can't wait to see you too in November in Seattle. Love Shelby, aka Chicken. Chicken, we're going to have to check in on you. Mental note to check in on you in Seattle. Yes. And your boyfriend. That's a crazy thing to risk for your boyfriend to be like, it'll be fine. I don't have insurance.

It's like, oh, the most deadly disease. I feel like in the world. Rabies vaccine should be calmed. That's like a health care issue from United States of America because I feel like that should just be. If you are exposed to an animal that could potentially have rabies, you should be able to get a shot no matter what your insurance status is. Yeah. It's not like you can't gamble with that particular disease. You're going to die if you contract it. It's the world's deadliest disease. And we're like, insurance doesn't cover it. Sorry. Like, can't fucking grip. But your boyfriend will be fine. He can't pay us. Sorry. Yeah. No, I think I've told this story before. But my mom had a bat run in. I don't think now that I'm thinking about it, she risked it too. And she lived. But she was younger. It was before she had me. And she, a bat was flying around in the house and she had wicked long hair.

And it got caught in her hair. Oh, no. Like literally right next to her face and it was all tangled up in her hair. And freaking out. You were freaking the shit out. Yeah. So it was like, I don't know if it, it definitely wasn't those things where it's like, it actively bit her. But it seems more of like the thing of like if it graced her or whatever.

And she's never heard anyone say freaking the shit out before. I'm trying to not say fuck as much. Were you trying to just not say fuck? It's not working. You should just say fuck. Thank God. That was hard. It was hard to hear.

Honestly, maybe a little uncomfortable. Oh my goodness. All right, good. I'm glad I don't have to do that anymore. Sorry. But yeah, it was freaking the absolute fuck out. And I don't think she did ever get a rabies. prophylaxic series or whatever because I don't remember the follow-up to that story.

I think the follow-up was like, yeah, it was really scary. And it was gross. And I hate thinking about it. But yeah, I had the rabies like pre-exposure shots just because of working in like wildlife stuff before. Yeah, that makes sense. Yeah. Well, sorry you went through that.

I hope your boyfriend's good. Yeah. I guess we'll check in. We'll touch base in Seattle soon next month. For 50 years, Canadians have wondered what the names of IKEA furniture mean. Like Natopa, the guardrail for children's beds. Natopa means giving your favorite person room to grow. It means their safety and your piece of...

No. In Swedish, Natopa means night monkey. Mom, he's back. IKEA, 50 years of Swedishness at home. Look, he's wearing little pajamas. So cute. All right, my next story is titled, Young Love Almost Turned into an Emergency Helicopter Search.

My name is Harrison, and growing up, I went to a Christian summer camp every year in Underwood, Indiana. Now, this particular year was a little different because it was my last year at camp, and I had a crush on a girl. Actually, I had a huge crush on a girl. We texted back and forth for days and after a couple weeks, we became boyfriend and girlfriend. Now, there was just one small problem. Had I ever actually talked to this girl in person?

No. I was the most confident textor in the world, but when it came to talking to a girl face to face, I was absolutely terrified. When camp started, I went through the natural stages of trying to talk to her than backing out at the last second. All of my friends knew I liked her and I imagined all of her friends knew I had the biggest crush on her because, you know, girl talk. After a couple days of small talk and me still not having the courage to actually talk to my quote unquote girlfriend, I decided that on the last day, it was now or never. Now a little backstory. At this camp, we had free time from 1230 to 3 o'clock. You could go to the snack show. You could go to the snack, shack, go to the lake, or just hang out. That morning, her friends told me they were going on a hike

to a waterfall and that I should come, because apparently nothing is more romantic than a hike. Since it was the last day, I finally mustered up the courage to meet them at the trailhead. When I got there, I immediately noticed two things. First, I was the only person wearing shoes. We were from Kentucky, so apparently all the stereotypes were coming into play. We don't need shoes. We're from Kentucky. Second, I was the only guy on the hike. I've never heard that people from Kentucky don't wear shoes. It's a stereotype I've never been aware of.

Me neither. Now, I wasn't completely crazy, so I at least wore slides to attempt the hike that I knew absolutely nothing about. At 1230, we started our romantic hike to go see the waterfall. There was me, my crush, and her two friends. Everything was going fine at first. I was walking in the back, making small talk with her friends because, of course, I was too scared to talk to my own girlfriend. After about 30 minutes, I finally made my way up to the front of the group. I started with some small talk.

Who knows what I said, I'm sure it was something dumb. But after another 30 minutes of putting on the moves, I started to wonder, Hey, where exactly is this waterfall? The girls told me, it's only a couple of minutes ahead. So me, being love struck and finally facing my fear of talking to my girlfriend, I said, Okay, let's push on. 20 minutes later, still no waterfall. That's when I finally told the group,

Hey guys, we've been walking for over an hour and a half. We need to turn back. I didn't want to get in trouble because we were getting close to the point where we needed to be back before free time was over. The group agreed. So we abandoned the romantic waterfall adventure and turned around. and that's when things got interesting. As we started walking back, we came to a fork in the trail. I looked at everyone and said,

Hey guys, which way did we come from? My love-struck brain had absolutely no idea where we were because I had been too busy trying to impress a girl. Someone in the group said, I think we go right. So we went right. About 45 minutes later, I realized something. This was not the trail we started on,

and that's when the fear set in. We all stopped and I said, Hey guys, I think we're lost. One of the girls had her phone with her and she said, Let me call my brother. He's a camp counselor. He'll know what to do. My love struck eighth grade mind was relieved.

Finally, an adult. She called her brother and he sounded frantic. And that's when we learned just how much trouble we were actually in. Apparently, four middle schoolers disappearing from camp for more than two and a half hours, tends to raise some red flags. While we were off on our quest to find the waterfall, the camp staff had spent 30 minutes searching the lake for our bodies. Does that sound dramatic?

Yes, but it's true. Once my crush's friend explained everything to her brother, the full picture finally hit me. We had been gone for over three hours. One male student and three female students were missing. For a Christian summer camp, that was basically code red, double red. Now I should mention something. That summer, I was really into survival shows like survival man, dual survival, and bear grills.

I had watched enough television to know exactly what to do in a dire situation like this. So naturally, I took charge. Hey, I'm going to run ahead on the trail and see if I can find our way back. I took off like an eighth grader with all the adrenaline of a deer being chased by a bear. I ran. It felt like I ran for miles. It was probably three minutes. Then I turned around. My quest to find civilization had failed.

When I got back, my crush's friend was still talking to her brother on the phone. At this point, I felt like I needed to take control of the situation. Why? I don't know. Maybe because I was scared. Maybe because I was trying to impress a girl. Hey, I was a middle schooler. I got on the phone with her brother and told him, Hey, I think I know the way back. I did not. He said, okay, just stay on the path and keep walking. Now, as a long-time listener of shows about people getting lost, I know that when you're lost and people are searching for you, you are supposed to stay put. Do not move. If only, I had known that 15 years ago. So we kept walking, and time kept ticking. Remember this was the last day of camp, so pickup was around

6.30. By about 4.30, we were tired, thirsty, and walking what felt like an endless trail. We were cranky, we were scared and we just wanted to be found. And then I heard voices. In my head, I had become the protector of the group. I was the only guy after all. So, in the most manly 13-year-old voice I could muster, I said, guys, we're not alone. There are people on the trail.

I scanned my surroundings and found the perfect baseball-sized rock. I picked it up and clutched it in my hand, ready to protect the group. Three older people came riding up on horseback. They look pretty surprised to see three barefoot middle schoolers and one middle schooler and slides wandering around on a rough trail. They looked harmless enough, so we explained what had happened. We told them we were lost and needed to find a road. Her brother had told us if we could find a road, the camp leaders would be looking for us there.

So we pushed on. By around 5.30, the hunger and thirst were really setting in. we were cranky, scared, and ready to be found. Then we came to another fork in the trail. What do we do now? I told the girl to call her brother and ask him. I said with the confidence of a kid who had watched about 100 hours of survival shows that we should go right. The group agreed, I have no idea why.

So we started walking to the right. And then we heard it. Hey, over here. It was our search party. We had finally been found. There was a frantic group of adults standing there with pale white faces, and the relief on their faces was obvious. They gave us blankets and water and said, hey, get in the car, we need to get back to camp. It was about 6 o'clock at this point.

I was sitting in the car, chatting it up with a guy driving, when he looked at me and said, Do you know what you kids put us through? He told us they were about five minutes away from calling the police, scrambling a helicopter, and getting the state police involved. And that's when I learned something else. Remember those three adults on horseback? My crush's friend had told her brother that we'd met some adults on horseback who had given us directions. That scared all of the adults even more. Apparently, four missing middle schoolers wandering her around in the woods and then reporting that we'd encountered random adults on horseback is not exactly comforting information.

We arrived back at camp around 615. My entire bunk was already packed up along with the rest of my luggage. 25 minutes later, I was sitting in my mom's car heading home. And the first thing I said was, Mom, can we go to Subway? I'm so hungry. She looked at me and said, why are you hungry? And I said, they didn't tell you? No.

Oh, Mom, I have a story for you. Nope, they never called my mom. They never called any of our parents at any point. Let's just say they closed that trail indefinitely, and I am still a camp legend, the guy who got lost in the woods with three girls. But there's one more part to the story. Remember that perfect baseball size rock I picked up because I thought I was going to have to protect everybody? I kept that rock for six years. It sat in my room for six whole years. Then one day I looked at it and thought, Hey, this is probably a G-oad. So I decided to break it open and I discovered something. It wasn't a G-Ode.

It was horse poop. I had kept a piece of horse poop in my room for six years. Just let that sink in. I spent six years proudly keeping what I thought was a cool rock from the day I became a hero of the Wilderness Rescue, and it was horse poop. Must have been some really hard horse poop. I've been there for a while. Oh, that's too funny. And it's so fitting because it's like they came across those people on horseback.

So clearly it's a trail that horse is frequent. So it does make sense. It's just so funny. So I guess the real lesson here is don't get lost in the woods. Don't trust your survival show knowledge. And maybe don't pick up random rocks, especially in Kentucky. I absolutely love the show and I really hope I make it on Trail Tales one day. I have a pretty quirky life and apparently getting lost in the woods with three girls is just one of the stories that came out of it.

My two older brothers have actually submitted stories about me to other podcasts from cutting myself with a knife on Christmas and causing an entire scene to hitting my leg with an axe and throwing up on my poor neighbors. Thanks for listening and if you ever find yourself lost in the woods, remember my story. stay put and for the love of God don't pick up horse poop noted and noted so funny i just you know what's also the best about this is that age is just like to be an eighth grader again everything's embarrassing when you're an eighth grader embarrassing you're just so hyper aware and self-conscious of everything and every move you make and every conversation you have and choice you make and you're just like trying especially as like somebody trying to impress a crush. Yeah.

I remember I had a sweatsh. This is one of my eighth grade embarrassing stories. But I remember I had a crush on this guy and I had his sweatshirt that I forget like how I got it or whatever. but I was like wearing it around and stuff. And then I had brought it home and like kind of forgot about it. And then he asked me to bring it back to school because he like wanted it back. And I was like, okay. And I remember I put it in a plastic bag and I brought it to school with me.

And I carried it around with me all day in this plastic bag. But I was too nervous to go up to him to like give it back. And he clearly saw I was carrying it around in a plastic bag. And then I just took it home and like never gave it to it. him. What? And then I ended up throwing it out like years later, but I just remember, sometimes I think back on that and I'm like, he was in my classes. Like, I remember, I specifically remember him sitting across from me seeing the little bag like under my desk by my feet. And it was like obvious. It was his stuff. And you just neither of you said anything. Neither of us said anything.

It's just like the plastic bag elephant in the room. Yep. And he never got it back because of it. He should have asked, I guess. He should have spoke up. Yep. It wasn't my fault. No. I remember similar to that, like, it was a jacket. And it was, I don't know if I was in eighth grade. I might have been in, it was either seventh or eighth grade. And I had a crush on this guy. that my mom did clocked right away was like, no, this kid is trouble, like super trouble. You're like, yeah, mom, that's why I like him. Yeah, duh. He's a bad boy, a fucking 12 year old or whatever the hell he was.

I don't know how old. How old are you in eighth grade? Like, yeah, I think you're 13. 12, 13, 14, whatever. So it was around that time frame. Anyway, so she clocked his shit right away. Like, clearly I was enamored. I thought he was so cute and, like, badass and whatever.

And he one day gave me, blast from the past, the apacromby jackets. Bring yourself back. The, like, fake fur. That's very expensive. Well, yes. Very she-she at the time. Like, you know the ones I'm talking about. It's like the, yeah.

Yes, yes. Okay. So anyway, super expensive. for anyone, let alone. Like, my mom's like, this kid did not just spend, like, hundreds of dollars on this. And even if he did, where did he get all that money? Yeah. Like, he's a child.

And so not only that, but he gave it to me. And my mom's like, I, it's super sketched the way that he obtained this. Like, it feels not right. And also, I don't want you, him thinking that you owe him shit. I don't want you in that position. I love that. And so she made me give it back to him. And I'm like, I'm not doing that.

Like, I'm not giving it back. So we had this whole argument, this whole thing. And I think, and she'll, when she hears this, she'll let me know. But I'm as if memory serves, I think she was like, if you're not doing it, I'm doing it. So she ended up taking it and going, he lived with his grandfather and getting it. and gave it back to his grandfather and was like, I don't want it. Like she took it to that level. She's like, absolutely not.

She's like, no, no. No, no. And I don't know eventually how that whole thing fizzled out. I mean, it wasn't anything serious. It was a crush and like we were super young. But I do know, thanks to the powers that be on Facebook, that years later, he definitely got in trouble. Like I'm pretty sure he was in jail at first. a long period of time.

Oh shit. Well, your mom knew. She's like, not my daughter. You're not this. Nope. Not on my watch. But yeah, centering around like clothing, boys' clothing in eighth grade. That's what I think of. So funny.

Ah, the good old days. Yeah. Well, thank you everyone for tuning in and hanging out with us. If you are interesting, we have two more stories for our outsiders so you can listen to that on Patreon or Apple subscriptions. And mine is titled SWs in Yosemite. Ooh, and mine is titled The Ghost of Dehydration. Oh, okay.

Well, drink your water and come listen to us over on our outsider platforms. But in the meantime, enjoy the view. But watch your back. Bye, everyone. Bye. Thanks for joining us for another episode. We hope you learned 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. Born and raised about 44. Why I say 44 minutes? Like in no world. Born and raised 44 minutes ago. I'm the smartest baby in the world.

Okay. Born and raised about 45 minutes north. Keep it down. Sorry. I'm just picturing a baby. A 44 minute. year old baby. Yeah.

Okay. I'm crying. Born and raised about... Okay. Fuck. All right. Born and raised about 45... I almost said it.