National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 22

Episode Date: January 30, 2023

Today’s stories include ghosty stuff, false alarms, vigilante pursuits, vibing in the badlands, healing in the Hoh and Maine madness. Bonus stories available for Outsiders on Patreon!We love our National Parks and we know you do too but when you're out there, remember to enjoy the view but watch your back. Please take a moment to rate and subscribe from wherever you’re listening to NPAD! Become part of our Outsider family on Patreon to gain access to ad-free episodes, bonus content, and more. Follow our socials Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. To share a Trail Tale, suggest a story, access merch, and browse our book recommendations - head over to our website.Thank you so much to our partners, check them out!Mosh: Use our link and save 20% off plus FREE shipping on your first 6-count Trial Pack. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Close your eyes. Focus. Listen to work getting done with Monday.com. Relax. As AI does the manual work, while your teams are aligned on a single source of truth. Feel the sensation of an AI work platform, so flexible and intuitive, it feels like it was built just for you. Notice you're limitless.

Limitless. Now open your eyes. Go to Monday.com. Start for free and finally. Breathe. Girl, winter is so last season. And now Springs got you looking at pictures of tank tops with hungry eyes. Your algorithm is feeding you cutoffs. You're thirsty for the sun on your shoulders.

That perfect hang on the patio sundress. Those sandals you can wear all day and all night. And you've had enough of shopping from your couch. Done hoping it looks anything like the picture when you tear up on that envelope? It's time for a little in-person spring treat. It's time for a trip to Ross. Work your magic. Hello everyone, welcome back to National Park After Dark Trail Tales edition.

How is everyone today? We're great. We're ready to hear some stories. I got a spooky one to start. Oh, let's hear it. Okay. It begins. Well, okay, I do have to say the title is ghosty stuff.

Perfect. And it begins, hello, I've been a true crime nerd for years, but only recently came across y'all's podcast on a long road trip. I've been a loyal listener ever since. My tale isn't so much of one in a national park, but of what I do for a hobby. The last few trail tales have included spooky ghost stories, and I thought I'd throw mine into the mix. I'm a paranormal investigator. I work with a team, and we do everything from private visits to visiting well-known haunted locations just for fun. This story comes from my very first investigation, a very old and dilapidated Civil War-era mansion hidden in the brush of Backwoods, Alabama.

See, this house has a dirt floor basement, and like most dirt floor basements in old houses, it was incredibly creepy. The creepiest part of this basement was hands down, a cold storage room that you had to crawl through a small window to get into. These rooms were used to store perishables and out of the hot Alabama summer sun before the invention of refrigerators. Looking at a room sealed off except for a small window is creepy enough. But the story behind the activity in the room made my skin crawl the first time I heard it. Back in the era before ambulances, a small child was bit by a snake and perished before the town doctor could get to him. Since it was during the summer in rural Alabama, it took the coroner a few days to get there. So in order to preserve the boy's body, the family partially buried their son

in this storage room until the coroner could arrive to dress and bury the body in the family graveyard on site. Having your child buried below your very feet would drive any parent crazy, but this child's mother took it to the next level. She would not leave her child's side and would eat and sleep next to this poor child's corpse. We sent two of our investigators into this room to do an EVP session. They got around to asking about the boy and this large set of windows that was leaning against the wall came up and over and shattered on the floor. In a concrete basement, every sound is amplified and boy was it loud. I was on the other side of the wall with two other investigators because the room we had walked into felt very heavy and it was difficult to breathe. Then this loud crash happened and I was about

pissing down my leg. Now this would be just another ghost story, if not for one thing. I got it on video. I've attached it to the email so you can see the actual moment that this happens. To me, it looks like there's a dark mass that moves towards the windows and then they fall over. I've got more ghost stories that I tell the curious soul who asks the dangerous question. Hey, Cal, you got any hobbies? But this one is my favorite. favorite. It happened on my very first investigation within two hours of us being there. And we got it on tape. Keep up the good work, y'all. You've turned me into a loyal listener, Cal. So you got to look at it. You got to look at it now. Look it up in our Gmail. And of course, I'll post it on the socials,

but it is pretty cool. I'm already scared. Oh, you can see it. I saw, I didn't see a dark mass. I saw the white glow. That's what I saw in it. Creepy. creepy, I have chills. And they should come to your house because your house is haunted. I haven't had much activity here, knock on wood, since for like the last like two or three weeks. Okay. So doesn't mean it's not there though. That's very true. All right. Well, my story is titled Theodore Roosevelt National Park Adventure. Hi, Danielle and Cassie. My name is Anika. Feel free to use my name if this goes on the show. And of course, I'm a huge fan of NPAD. I have been listening to you all non-stop for the past few months, and thanks to the podcast, my must-visit list is getting way too

long. I know Cassie can commiserate. I sure can. I really appreciate that y'all cover stories from the many lesser-known parks and also lesser-known stories from the well-known parks. I love getting a more intimate look into these wonderful spots. Anyway, on to my story. The summer of 2020, I was taking a month-long solo trip from Kentucky where I currently live out to the Cascades and back. My goal was to hike as much as possible along the way. So when I hit Theodore Roosevelt National Park, after a day of about 11 or 12 hours of driving, I laced up my boots and got going. I decided to do the painted canyon trail, a beautiful little hike close to the visitor station outside of the fee area of the park. The trail is a four mile out and back that brings you to the bottom of the canyon where I had the opportunity to see

petrified wood, snakes, lizards, and even a bison in the distance. The trail was often pretty narrow with cacti lining either side, and though I was wearing chakos, it was still easygoing. This episode is brought to you by Prime. Obsession is in session. And this summer, Prime Originals have everything you want. Steamy romances, irresistible love stories, and the book to screen favorites you've already read twice. Off campus, L, every year after, the love hypothesis. Sterling Point and more. Slow burns, second chances, chemistry you can feel through the screen. Your next obsession is waiting. Watch only on Prime. I got to a turnaround point on the trail without incident, feeling grateful for the beautiful

big skies of Western North Dakota and the fact that I had seen no other people. It seemed that I had really lucked out on this hike and grinning to myself, I turned around. Immediately, the smile slid off my face, directly behind me, were huge black. storm clouds. Now I don't mind getting wet when I'm hiking, but I was planning to sleep in my tiny car in a truck stop that night. I knew if I got soaked, there wouldn't be space to keep my wet gear separate from me. I had literally been sleeping with a gear on top of me curled in a little ball because my corolla hatchback couldn't accommodate both me and a month's worth of supplies easily. I did not, of course, entertain the idea of sleeping in a hotel or camping because I

refused to pay to sleep somewhere for eight hours and then immediately get back on the road. Grumbling to myself, I started to jog back towards the trailhead, hoping to beat the rain. The previously still air began to cool, then whip around loose strands of my hair. The cheery evening sun was blotted out by the darkest clouds I have ever seen, and I know I was about to get soaked. Heavy drops of rain began to strike the dusty ground, then seconds later, the deluge of water hit. As the rain fell, huge cracks of lightning started to flash in the not-so-far distance. My annoyance shifted into fear as the lightning crept closer and closer. The canyon was quite wide across and for most of the trail, I was the tallest thing around. Lightning isn't something I'm

typically afraid of, however, I was essentially out in the open and it was striking every few seconds. At this point, I made the decision to try and run the last mile as fast as I could to get out of the canyon and back to the visitor center. The lightning was still about two to three miles off and I knew I should be able to cover the mile in less than 10 minutes as long as I didn't step off the trail into some cacti. Now this is where the story starts to get interesting. On the trail are a few of these quote unquote hills, which probably have a specific name but I can't find them, that haven't been eroded away like the surrounding land. They have gorgeous multicolor layers and were the only thing taller than me on the trail in the canyon. The trail snakes around the edge of one of those hills and it isn't possible to see around the hill as one approaches it. As I was running around this hill, I noticed there was a lot of cacti to the point where some of it was growing on the trail.

Being careful not to get stabbed, I am known among my friends for getting sticks and rocks trapped between my foot and chaco. Same. I rounded the side of the hill, standing smack dab in the middle of the trail. was a huge male bison. He was probably about 25 yards away, which was closer than I'd like to get to a bison on purpose, and not moving. The proud way he stood there, framed by the whipping wind and lightning, was cinematic. Half of me was in awe of his grandeur. And the other half of me was panicking because he didn't look like he had any plans to move, and the lightning was now visibly closer. Going around the bison was out of the question. I was stupidly in sandal,

and leaving the trail with the amount of cacti and other spikily friends wasn't an option. Plus, I wasn't sure what types of possibly endangered plants or habitats I may trample. The bison still didn't seem to know I was there. So not wanting to sartle him, I started to sing to him. He swung his big head towards me as I serenated him with the improvised lyrics. Oh, Mr. Majestic Bison, please leave. Aren't you afraid of lightning? You're so big.

You're so fast. You are so great. Now please move. Unimpressed, he looked back towards a storm, not moving an inch. I kept crooning away, mostly to keep myself occupied as I wasn't sure what else to do. And finally, he strolled away, totally unconcerned. When he was far enough, I felt it was safe to pass. I resumed my run, and soon I was climbing back out of the canyon.

As I crest the ridge, I saw a figure sprinting towards me. At this point, the clouds were so dark I could barely see. And as they approached, I saw a woman dressed in ranger's clothing. She stopped me, huffing, and said, Madora has exploded, to which I replied, what's Madora? I don't know why that's so funny. Like, cool story, what is that? What is that?

Should I be concerned? It's the town right outside the park, she shouted. At this point, the wind was so loud, talking was out of the question. There's a company that has been putting pipelines for oil, and they fucked up, and there was an explosion. The whole town is destroyed. We're looking for people to bring in water and medical supplies to the people who are there. Do you have a car? In disbelief, I replied, yes, I have a car. Uh, what do I do to help? Go back to the visitor center. They have supplies there. They'll tell you what to do. And with that, she ran down the

trail into the canyon. I tried to call after her to let her know I was the only person down there, but she didn't hear me over the wind and deciding she knew what she was doing since she was a ranger. I sprinted back towards a visitor center, terrified for the people in Madora. The lightning hit where I had been hiking right as I got to the parking lot. Somehow, I managed to get to shelter before I was over the top of me, but my mind was now thinking of the townspeople of Madora and not my own safety. I burst into the visitor center, dripping wet and gasping. But both the kids manning the checkout and the two families inside turned to look at me as I managed to ask, is Madora okay? One of the kids working rolled his eyes and replied,

Did you talk to that crazy lady? She just came in here and told us Madora exploded and then stole a bunch of water bottles and ran away. She doesn't work here. Wait, I thought she was a ranger. She's just dressed as one, I guess. You know she's gone into the canyon, right? Eh, she'll be fine. And with that, I left.

Not sure what else to do. I ate supper in Madora, which was not. not in fact destroyed. The sky's cleared up and I was dry by the time I climbed into my car to sleep. In conclusion, when you are out hiking, it is not a good idea to run around blind corners. If you surprise the wrong animal, you will regret it. Stay at least 25 yards away from a bison. Also, don't be an idiot and check the forecast before you set out on a hike, even if it's just a short, jot, blank bind. I definitely have learned a lot about hiking since I took that trip and I very much would like to stress the importance of knowing what to do

an emergency situation for the specific environment you are in before you go out on the trail. Tell somebody where you are going and when they are going to hear back from you. And if you hike alone like I do, don't take risks. Pushing your limits and improving your skills is important, but there is no reason to do it alone when you have no service and are 30 miles into the backcountry. Sorry for the length of the story. It's just one of many weird days I've had on the trail. Thank you both for creating this wonderful show and community.

Unity. Best, Anika. That is so wild. It's so wild. It's like, I have to get back. The town of Medora has exploded. They need me to bring water. And now I'm just picturing like this woman, like, ran out with like a bunch of water bottles. And I hope that woman's okay, because it sounds like she was suffering from some mental illness. But that is just a wild trail. Like, you're out there. You run into a bison. You run into this woman. You think the town you're in is exploding. Like, that's just a lot of stuff is going on. There's a lot of moving parts to this story. Yeah. That's just like something that will stick with you forever. Yes. It reminds me, okay, I used to be, I still am, but back in the day was a huge Dane Cook fan. I think he's so funny.

And he had a skit about like, like a doing, I don't know, I'm going to butcher this, but essentially, like doing something to someone that they're going to remember forever. And it's not like harmful. It's just like so weird that people are like, we'll never forget it. And one of it is like seeing a kid eating an ice cream cone and you just go up to it and smash it out of his hand and be like, you remember me forever. And just like walk away. You know, like it's just stuff like that. Yeah. That would hurt me if someone did that to me. I'd be very upset. That is hurtful. Oh, good. Emotionally hurtful.

Okay. Yeah. My first story is titled, or second story, sorry, is titled No Coincidences in the Whole Rainforest. Hello, ladies. I started binging your podcast the moment it was recommended to me and I haven't looked back since. Your storytelling is great and your chemistry with each other is amazing. Makes for entertaining episodes and the feeling that I'm sitting in a room with two close friends recounting these tales. I also appreciate all of the work you do to promote.

the protection of these sacred places so that generations can continue to enjoy the great outdoors and all of the wonders that national parks have to offer. Keep up the great work. Well, thank you, first of all. Don't want to breeze by that. It's very nice. It's very kind. Yes. Now for my tale. For context, I met my then-boyfriend, now husband, in late 2014. We had been dating through Thanksgiving and Christmas, meaning that we were spending a lot of time with each other's families during that time. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing, as we have grown to love and cherish the relationship we formed with each other's families, but as a newly established couple, it certainly adds its fair share of stress meeting all these new people, remembering names, buying gifts,

for people that you just barely know, etc. You get the idea. We decided that in order to refresh our minds and to re-kickstart our new relationship, it would be a good idea to get out of town for a few days, to get some fresh air and just come down from the chaos of the holidays. We live in Washington State, been researching places somewhat close to us that would serve as a good getaway. We settled on Squim. Squim is a small town located on the west side of Washington near the Olympic Mountains. If you've never been, go, trust me. We stayed at an adorable bed and breakfast in Squim that overlooked the water, and it was heaven. We spent the few days we were there exploring the trails and walking the beach. It was a bit colder during our visit, but that didn't stop us from enjoying the wonders around us.

I stayed in Squim with my mom and my stepdad, and it was the trip, It was like a few years ago, and they came out, and Ian did the first half with us, and we went to the North Cascades and Olympic, and then he went home because he had to work. I kind of remembered that. Yeah, you remember? And yeah, we stayed right on the water. It wasn't out of bed and breakfast, but I did really like that town. Anyways, we decided to make the two-and-a-half-hour drive to the whole rainforest and make a day out of that expedition. We started early in the morning, passing through forks and getting a kick out of all the twilight hysteria that this small town on.

offers. Ho rainforest is one of the most brilliant places I've ever visited. Surrounded by dense moss and towering trees, you feel small and infinite at the same time. The cushion of the greenery dampens the sound of the forest, with the exception of the flowing of the Ho River, as you meander by it on the trail. I should preface this next part by saying that this trip was happening at quite a challenging point in my life. Both of my great-grandparents were experiencing rapidly declining health in a way that made us all keenly aware that now was the time to be prepared for the worst. Having never experienced a loss this monumental, I was not prepared at all. My great-grandparents were two of the most lovely people in this world, the most kind, pure,

generous people who served as the foundation and pillars of our family for many years. For the many years we were blessed to have them. Both of them worked very hard throughout their lives, tending to their children, working their farm, and running their business. Between all of this, they also spent a sizable amount of time outdoors, exploring, hunting, fishing, or just drinking beer and catching frogs. You can see how the inevitable impending loss was a hard pill to swallow. Back to the trail.

We walked along slowly, making sure to soak in every little bit we could, stopping to admire the ferns, climb on fallen trees, examine each particularly vibrant green patch of moss. It was a lovely height. We were crouched down, examining a particularly interesting-looking mushroom. when I heard the cracking of a branch. The trail had been empty when we first arrived. In fact, we hadn't seen anyone all day.

Even the parking lot was empty. I assumed it was another hiker, but being me, and having listened to too many true crime stories, I also assumed we were being stalked by said hiker and would shortly be murdered in the woods. Instead, we glanced up to the trees to see two elk just 30 feet away. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that I avoided being murdered by a hiker or worse having to make small talk with a passerby.

Kidding. That's way worse. Social anxiety. As we peered through the dense branches, we watched the elk as they slowly picked around at the forest floor until they must have heard us and looked up to meet our eyes. This was as terrifying as it was serene. Of course, meeting the eyes of a mountain lion or bear sounds scarier,

but a spooked or territorial elk can do its fair share of damage to a human. In the few moments we locked eyes, I felt a surge of emotions run through me that only experiencing the sheer size, power, and majesty of a wild animal in its habitat can provoke. The feeling tingled from my feet to my head until I felt the sudden sensation of wanting to break into a hysterical sob. After a couple minutes of silence between us, the elk broke into a sprint in the opposite direction, leaving us there speechless. I gathered myself and we continued our hike. I almost hoped we would see these two elk again, on our journey, but no such luck. As we walked, I contemplated in my head why I would get so emotional about elk. I've seen many elk before. In fact, large herds of elk wander through my parents' yard

on a weekly basis. And then it hit me. In some way, I saw those two elk as a projection of my great grandparents, and it felt like a sign. In the seconds of locking eyes with these elk, I could hear the voices of my great grandparents telling me it's okay. They've had a wonderfully long and fulfilling life, and they are ready to continue exploring together in the next lifetime. I truly feel that there's no such thing as a coincidence. I needed this moment to grasp that. We lost my great-grandfather a month after this trip, with my great-grandmother following just shortly after,

as they couldn't bear the thought of being away from one another for too long. This small memory has served as a token of peace in the years following and has taught me the valuable lesson of slowing down and fully absorbing all the wonder that this world has to offer. Since their passing, I have found that they are often looking out for me. Whether it be on a stroll with my husband on their old property and seeing a vibrant blue jay peeking down at us from the branches, my late great-grandfather's favorite color was blue, or pulling into work on a bone-chillingly cold day and being frozen in my tracks as a buck

and his dough wandered slowly in front of me, stopping to gaze at me as I once again felt the surge of emotion run through my body. Knowing they are never far is the reassurance that I need to keep going. So sorry for the long story, but I am one of those people that cannot tell a story without multiple detours along the way. Thank you for reading, and I wish you both the best in everything you do. And remember, there's no such thing as a coincidence. N.

So true. I mean, that's become like a motto, I feel like, for the past few months for us, there is no such things as coincidences and the world gives you things when you need them in signs. things like that. And I love this story for obviously for very apparent reasons, but it reminded me of a time that I was with you, actually. And it was, I don't know, when did you first come out to see me after Ian passed? Like, it was in June. Yeah, the next month, like a couple weeks after. Yeah. And Ian and I loved Mount St. Helens. So when we went to Mount St. Helens, and during that trip, I mean, we were like, I think we were the only people on the trail too. I don't remember seeing anyone at all.

Yeah. I mean, at the beginning, there were people on it, but once we got passes, I think a lot of people were doing like half of the trail that we did and turning around because like after like the halfway point there was no one. Yeah, no one at all. So like there's that connection. And then also like, so I had some of Ian's remains with me in my pack. And I was obviously thinking about. about him a lot because we had obviously done that trail was the first time. I was out on a trail in several years without Ian. It was like a big thing. And I was like, I wasn't exactly looking for a sign. This is like before my sign journey. But obviously I was thinking about him and we're hiking and hiking and finally we get up to this like this summit-ish area where it opens up and I was thinking about him and all of a sudden these two remember those two giant eagles that like yes as soon as we got up there and they were like playing in the breeze and just like flying along with each other and they

were the only birds we saw the entire trip like the entire hike that entire day and it's like as soon as like we get up to the top and like there's this big moment and and and I just remember seeing them and feeling this connection that this person is talking about. Like seeing other people, I saw myself and Ian in those birds. She saw her great grandparents and those elk. And it makes no sense on paper and even saying it out loud. But it's like this feeling that overcomes you. And I just can totally relate to the emotions that come along with that.

And it's just, it's so special when it happens to you. Yeah. And I mean, I remember. that moment for, I think, like, kind of different reasons, but it was, I mean, for that reason, too, but part of what I remember is how beautiful it was, too, because I remember those two birds, and I remember in the background of that, you could see Reneer and you could see Mount Hood, and then you could see Mount St. Helens. So just, like, as a whole, it was just, like, such a calm and also, like, really beautiful experience and to have all of that intertwined. I mean, again,

there's no such thing as coincidences. Yeah. And it's just like how many birds have I seen in my lifetime? And even since Ian Passen and I'd never, like that feeling of put those together. Right. It's like you see birds all the time. You see elk all the time just like this person also described. Like they've seen elk many times.

But in that moment, it's just something striking and special. So when it happens, it's awesome. So loved your story. Thank you for sending it in. My next story is titled Chasing Thieves and Eleanor. Alaska. Hi ladies. I have to say it. I love your podcast. I am a mom of young kids and your podcast drowns out the constant Peppa Pig blaring from the backseat and it quite literally keeps me sane. So thank you. It's funny because we had another mom write in like a super similar beginning like that.

Like I have to listen to Peppa Pig all the time. Thank you for drowning that out. My story is from a trip to Alaska. My family went on in 2016. It was my parents, my grandparents, my eight-month-old son and myself. My husband stayed home working. We started out our trip staying in a hotel in Anchorage the first night and renting RVs to drive and camp throughout the state. We spent our first night at a hotel, and once we had our RVs rented,

we pulled them into the back parking lot of our hotel to load up and organize our groceries and supplies before heading out for the week. The back parking lot was surrounded by trees and had plenty of space. So my mother and grandparents were organizing groceries. I took my eight-month-old son on a walk in a stroller around the parking lot to keep him occupied all while facetiming with my husband.

I was about 50 yards from the RV when I noticed two 20-something-year-old guys riding bicycles past us and didn't think much of it. Moments later, I hear my mom scream from inside the RV and the guys came barreling towards me on bikes and one of them looked me dead in the eye and said, purse snatcher with a very creepy expression on his face. Seeing him holding my mother's purse and my father's GPS, I immediately reacted. I pushed the stroller at my mom and screamed, take the baby, then hung up on my husband without saying a word,

I immediately took off running in their direction toward the main road, all while running, calling 911. I spoke to the operator and literally had no idea where I was, just that I was on a busy road in Anchorage. I was sprinting after the guy, and the operator had me list restaurants and stores around me to determine where I was located. I lost sight of the guy for a few seconds but continued to run in the direction he was going all while speaking to 911.

The guy on the bike came back on the main road and I continued running after him. Before this, he had no idea he was even being followed. I chased him for two miles down this road until he turned onto a residential street and I could see cop cars in the distance. I pointed the cops to where I saw him last, which was right in front of his house and they took off after him. Anchorage Police are some of the best and they go fast. I was then told to stop where I was and that they would handle it from there. I was literally feet from the sky's house and there were cops all over his street at this point. I was not in great shape, but the adrenaline was flowing and I was not about to let him steal our stuff on our first day of vacation.

The cops arrested him and found the majority of my parents' belongings and I was taken to identify him. Apparently, he stopped behind an auto parts store to dump the non-valiable things and kept the wallet and credit cards. This is how I was able to keep up with him on foot. able to recover pretty much all of my parents' belongings, with the exception of one credit card that we think he dropped into the bushes somewhere. We were super shaken up from so much action on our first day, but otherwise had an amazing time exploring Alaska. We also had to remain in the state to testify in front of a jury on our last day there. The guy ended up going to jail, just not sure for how long. I believe it was for several years. It was an experience to say the least. Something about thieves

triggers me to chase them, and this being so personal really hit home. My husband was terrified and thought we had gotten eaten by a bear. He was in total panic. He was back home in Texas with no way of knowing what was going on. Anyways, thanks for listening to my long story. And remember to watch your back in the city too. Lots of love from Texas. Amanda. Amanda. Ballsy. You're wild. Don't fuck with Amanda, because she is coming after you. You've ran after him on a bicycle for miles like like i would know i just freeze fight or flight she chased yeah i can just picture amanda sitting in front of this guy's house with like cop cars swarmed around just like yeah we're getting yeah yeah and then sitting in court testifying like yep that's the one i chased he took our shit

oh my god it's just like people from texas man don't mess with them don't mess with them yeah don't mess with texas yeah all right my last one begins. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. I found you all the way at the beginning, thanks to a Spotify recommendation and I've never been more grateful. I went through a few really rough years and I swear the outdoors saved my life. So hearing all the stories about the lives of others exploring the wilderness helps me feel a part of something bigger than me in the most beautiful way. Danielle, I hope you're not sick of hearing it. But the way you have continued to carry on Ian's memory is so beautiful and your grace through grief is incredible. I'm thinking of you,

navigating the holidays this year and hope you're surrounded by love, light, and warmth. Thank you very much. I do not get sick of hearing about Ian ever. Okay, so now for the story. I'm going to start by explaining some backstory. I'm a Washington state native who grew up fully believing in Sasquatch and listening to Coast to Coast as a kid. I've always been a pretty spiritual person and I believe there are entities and realities beyond the ones we see on the daily. I've had some supernatural encounters, but never something extraterrestrial or fantastical, despite my best hopes. I was accepted to grad school in Wisconsin earlier this year, which meant uprooting my little family, I'm a single mom to two kiddos, to move from the state I'd grown up in halfway

across the country to a state I've never even visited. As part of this move, I planned to road trip where we could hit a national monument in three national parks, dinosaur national monument, Grand Teton's, Yellowstone, and for the grand finale, the Badlands. I was incredibly excited for this trip as I felt like it was the perfect way to transition between states and seasons of life. Right before the trip and move, a couple devastating things happened. My three-year-old Husky experienced a sudden seizure and I had to make the heartbreaking decision to let him go. I'm sorry to hear that.

Wow. He was my adventure buddy and my emotional rock who truly saved me when I was at my lowest point. Losing him was like losing a part of myself. A couple weeks later, after we lost him, I reconnected. with someone I cared deeply for and briefly thought that this reconnection would mean something before it fell apart again. I was questioning everything. The trip, grad school, moving 2,000 miles from my chosen family, literally everything. But at this point, I was too far in, my things were packed and on their way out. I had closed on my home. There was no way out. So in the car that was literally

packed to the brim with two cranky kids, Apollo's ashes tucked next to me, we set off. It was an incredibly beautiful trip. We nerded out over the fossils at the dinosaur monument. I fell head over heels in love with Wyoming and the Grand Teton's and felt like I got a touch of the old wild west. We watched Old Faithful and Yellowstone, but I wanted more out of this trip than just pictures and memories. I wanted an experience. I don't remember exactly which part of the trip I started obsessing over it, but I decided I needed an extraterrestrial experience. I mean, same. Like, honestly. Like, I get it. I didn't just want one. I needed it. I needed some kind of proof that I wasn't an inconsequential bunch of atoms floating around in a meaningless universe. So I began praying, begging for my higher

power to send me something. Anything. I honestly don't know what I was even expecting, probably an E.T-esque flying saucer. The trip went on with little to no incident besides my keys going for a swim and a few car sickness moments and I was feeling more and more angsty about it. I was even more disappointed since I hadn't seen a moose. Okay, what is going on? We all want to see moose. Moose aren't real. Moose aren't real.

Okay. Where are they, though? I was even more disappointed since I hadn't seen a moose, which is one of my biggest bucketless animals to see in the wild. We were approaching the end of our trip with one last overnight in our last park, the badlands. Should we get, should we do merch that say moose aren't? real. Like just a side thought because that is this has come up like three times in the last like week I feel

like have the silhouette be in the same position as Bigfoot but it's yeah it's like but it's a moose. It was late in the day when we got there and we pulled into our campsite that's right outside of the park. It's a first come first serve camp with all of the spots in a circle and no amenities. We picked our spot set up camp, ate dinner and went for a sunset drive. to find the prairie dog camp and hopefully some bison. Our mission was successful and we spent a magical golden hour watching a huge herd of bison grazing and cute and curious prairie dogs scampering about. As the sun was fully setting, we drove back to camp and climbed into bed. After hours and hours of driving and all of the travel, I was exhausted. I read a few pages of 1984 before completely passing out.

Now, a quick depiction of my tent. I'd purchased this two-person tent for backpacking and it had a mesh top that could be left completely exposed for stargazing. Because it was so warm in the badlands, we had left the top off to watch the stars. So I had a completely unobstructed view of the night sky. I also had my phone in the tent, even though I had zero service as a comfort measure. So when I was awoken by a strange sound, I was able to quickly determine it was about 3 a.m. I don't know if I can describe this as a sound. It was more like I was swimming in a vibration.

I could feel, hear, and sense this vibration all around me, and it was so loud that it was like I was laying in a prayer bowl. I sat up completely, trying to figure out where it was coming from, and the sound didn't change. It was impossible to pinpoint where it was originating from, and the entire camp was totally still. There were no vehicles running, no buildings anywhere, nothing that could explain this noise.

As I looked around, way, way off in the distance, there was a flashing light. At first, I thought maybe it was a plane that was flying super low and making the noise, but the light wasn't moving. It was just blinking in the same exact spot rhythmically. It's impossible to convey just how strange both the sound and the light were. One of the strangest parts was that no one else in camp seemed to be awake or aware of what was happening, and all of the horses and dogs were completely silent.

Everything was silent, still and completely dark except for this humming sound and the flashing lights. Strangely enough for me, who is fairly convinced I am always moments away from being murdered or dying a gruesome death, I was completely at peace and fully believe that whatever it was was an answer to my prayer for an extraterrestrial experience. After a few moments of watching the light and quickly taking a quick video to prove to myself I wasn't dreaming, I laid back down and fell asleep. In the morning, there was nothing but cricket sharps and blue skies. I immediately listened to the video, which I have attached,

and the wild part is, all you can hear is the crickets unless you turn it all the way up. and then you can hear the faintest of humming sounds. I spent so much time Googling everything I could think of to see if anyone had experienced something similar in the Badlands and I couldn't find a thing. I have no explanation for it, no ideas on what could have made such a humming noise, so strong that it felt like I was laying on the stage

during a bass solo. No clue what would be blinking so rhythmically off in the distance or if those things are even related. But I do fully believe, proof or not, real or not, that my higher power heard me that trip and gave me this special experience as a reminder that I'm not just a mess of atoms with no purpose on this slowly imploding space rock. I'd like to think there was some alien presence near, enjoying the rock formations at 3 a.m., and maybe playing some extraterrestrial base.

I've attached the video. I tried to capture the vibration on as well as a couple of photos of the trip just in case they'll bring you some joy. Thanks for all you do on the show to highlight the beautiful stories of humans on this planet, and I hope you're taking care of this high. holiday season with love be well if you're going to have an extraterrestrial experience i feel like the bad lands is a pretty solid place to have it for sure that it definitely has like a i don't want to say otherworldly yeah that's it i don't i didn't want to say creepy because it's not creepy it's yeah

just like a otherworldly yeah for sure i loved the badlands it's one of my favorite national parks that i've been to i thought it was so i don't know what i was expecting but it blew my expectations. I actually don't think I was expecting. I don't know what I was envisioning when we got there, but it certainly wasn't what we got. South Dakota as a whole was just like a very welcomed surprise. I agree. And I know other people probably knew that it was amazing, but we were just, and we, I mean, we knew because we planned a whole trip there, but it was just even cooler than we expected. So true. Well, my last story before our bonus Patreon stories is titled Lost in Maine. Hi, Cassie and Danielle.

I started listening when there were only a few episodes of the podcast and fell in love with it. Admittedly, I do have to take break sometimes for a while because as much as I love nature and being in it, I'm also a scarity cat and some of the stories make me even more terrified, especially the bear attack stories. Fair. I almost shut off the recent collab episode with tooth and claw because it was making me woozy, but I'm so glad I listened all the way through because as scary as it was, hearing the advice about what to do if a bear starts attacking made me feel so much better.

Full disclosure, I live in New Hampshire, and as you know, I only have to worry about black bears, thank God. I even ordered bear spray after listening. I also carry a handgun, but was so interested to hear that bear spray is more effective than a loud noise and actually trains the bears to say away. A win-win for everyone involved. On to my trail to. Every year my boyfriend and I do a canoe trip down the Sacco River in Maine with a group of friends.

This year, it was a five-day trip, and we were also joined by my boyfriend's aunt Sue and her friend Johnny. The first night after paddling 14 miles that day with our canoes and rafts behind piled with wood, coolers of beer, and food with enough ice to last the five-day trip in the hottest week of the summer, it was over 100 degrees every day, and rushing to try to beat the thunderstorms that were expected that afternoon, plus drinking all day, I was pooped. While everyone else stayed up, I was in bed that night by nine with my dogs. I woke up suddenly around 2 a.m. and realized my boyfriend wasn't in the tent with me. I was hugely surprised because I know he had been partaking in some extracurricular substances

and figured he would just stay up late by the fire watching the stars. I came out of the tent to pee and see where he was at and only saw Johnny sitting by the fire in his camping chair passed out cold. After looking around, I saw my boyfriend's red blinking light down by the river. Now, the spot we camp at is on the bottom of a hairpin curve on the river, and we like to walk the approximately 1 tenth of a mile through the woods to get to the other side of the curve up the river, then float down in our life jackets. My boyfriend especially loves doing it at night because the stars are so beautiful.

He puts on the red light so there is no way we can miss our campsite, just in case it gets super dark and we somehow don't realize how far we've gone downstream. I woke up Johnny and asked, where are Brian and Sue? He was out so cold that he literally was speaking gibberish, but finally he answered, I don't know. What do you mean you don't know? I asked a little worried now. When did you last see them?

He answered, uh, maybe around midnight. Now I was terrified. The float only takes about 15 minutes. There is no way they should have been gone for two hours. I tried to push down my growing anxiety and went down to the riverbank to wait and see if they came. After 30 minutes of waiting, I was straight up panicking. Me and Johnny, who was wide awake now, decided one of us needed to go upriver and see if we could find them. Johnny opted to go since his canoe was lighter and was empty and mine was still filled with supplies. I could hear him calling their names

up the river, but he was so drunk still that he was yelling the wrong names. I was calling their phones over and over and getting their voicemails. I decided that I couldn't rely on this drunken fool and he was probably going to fall in a drown, so I borrowed a kayak from one of our friends to go up the river myself. The fog was so thick on the river that trying to use my headlamp literally only lit up about a foot in front of my face. There was no way to see anything.

So I just screamed their names as loud as my lungs could go. By the time I got back to camp, my screaming had woke up the rest of the group and it was around 3.45 a.m. I filled everyone in and other girls I was with said we needed to call 911. I was freaking out because my boyfriend does not like drama and under no circumstances would call the police. The girl said that if my boyfriend was mad, I could blame it on them and called.

I was starting to hyperventilate at this point and as the operator asked questions about what they look like, what they were wearing, etc. I literally couldn't think of what my boyfriend of 12 years even look like, let alone give any useful information. They said they were sending out searchers and not to leave our campsite. After about 45 minutes, I suddenly heard what sounded like a scream. and then a whoop. I looked at my friend and asked, did you hear that? And then screamed my boyfriend's name. Nothing. I knew 911 told me to wait, but I took off through the woods towards the sound on the other side. And as I got through the woods, I heard more whooping. I yelled his name again and heard, yes, it's me. We're okay. And then him and his aunt laughing. All of my panicking instantly turned to rage and tears and I screamed, F you effing assholes.

Get back to the camp now. We called 911. It turns out they had tried to go through the woods that night, wasted without a cell phone, lights or a compass, and had gotten hopelessly lost, obviously. Supposedly they didn't hear me calling for them. They had yelled, but nobody heard them, so they laid down in the poison ivy, laid in forest floor, covered themselves in brush and leaves, and had been chewed by mosquitoes all night.

Their skin was basically just one giant bug bite. and I made sure to tell my boyfriend that I didn't feel bad for him and that he deserved it. And also, refuse to apologize to his aunt for calling her an asshole. Hopefully, my boyfriend learned his lesson about not forgetting his compass and phone, but since this wasn't even the first time getting lost in this patch of woods, although it was the most dramatic, I highly doubt it. Sorry this was so long, but I do think it's funny now that I get to look back and know that everyone was okay.

And we were able to call off the rescue mission before they actually got on the river. So luckily, we didn't waste too much of it. of their time. I don't think poor Johnny will be joining us on the river next year, though. Love you girls and all that you do, even if it does scare me sometimes. Heather. Oh, no. The one thing that, like, really stuck with me in that story is the main bug bites, because if you know, you know. They're so bad. They're so bad. And I'm so happy to be back in Colorado because the bugs are just, like, not a thing here. Yeah. Like they are back home. I just, ugh, the bugs here are, they are so bad.

I just love that this is the Saco River story because if you're from New England, I don't know, maybe, I don't know if you've had a Saco River experience, but every person I know has been an absolute shit show on the Sacco River at some point in their life. I can proudly say, proudly say, I was not a Sacco Slob kebab because I never went to the Sacco River. It was the same thing. Like, it was a thing. I don't know why. It's just like anyone in New England. It's like the thing. It's like kind of like a rite of passage when you're in like high school.

It's like high school time frame. I was in college when I had my, I had a couple experiences. Not that I was a slob kebab each time. I have one. I was like relatively together for all of my times. But one of them, it was even, I think we were 22. So it was after college. And it wasn't me, but my friend, she got so drunk.

She was, the river, it was a really dry season. And you could pretty, you pretty much had to walk most of it. You couldn't even float a lot of it. And she had a float, but she was so drunk that she was falling off of it and her face was going in the water. So I had to like hold her face up so she wouldn't drown. And I remember we finally got her in the position. She was in like the beer boat. And we got her.

So her face wasn't in the water. Her limbs were kind of still in the water. But her face wasn't. And I remember going by other people who were. like floating and canoeing and whatever. And I just remember one person yelling to us and going, do you have a dead girl back there? And then the worst part, the worst part of the whole thing was when we got to the end and we had to get out of the water, there was a huge embankment that you had to climb. Like it was basically climbing, not walking. And I remember we had to get her to

like we got kind of far away from it and we had to do a running head start to help like. like her and we convinced her to run and then we're literally like pushing her up the side of this slope to get her to the, it was a mess. Anyway, Saco River, everyone. If you know, you know. Like, if you know, you know. If you survived Saco, then you know. I'm like, yeah, there was just something about like the idea of spending days in tents along

this river with a bunch of other drunk people for like in the sand and in the sun. and like just having to like be like everyone's dirty and drunk and throwing it and I'm just like I'll pass I just like I will pass on that I think it has draws for people because it is a lawless land like there are there are police that go but they're just making sure no one's dead like I remember this was before weed was legal or anything like that I can remember people like full on like smoking bongs throwing these huge parties and the police would just like be walking around making sure people were alive and would not say a word to anyone. Main's a different type of place. Let's just also start there. That's true. Yeah. That is true. Oh my God. Okay. Enough about Saco. We're glad you all. We're safe. We're glad we could go. Saco has a lot of memories, partial memories. So we're happy that everyone's okay. And thank you for sharing your trail tale. I can picture it vividly. I can just see. it now. All right, well, thanks, everyone. We've got two more trail tales for our bonus for Patreon,

but for everyone else, we'll see you next time. In the meantime, enjoy the view. But watch you're back and reconsider going to SACO. Yeah. Be safe out there, guys. Thank you for joining us again this week. If you have a trail tale you'd like to share, send us an email at NPAD Stories at gmail.com. Follow us on Instagram and Facebook. at National Park After Dark and on Twitter at NPAD Podcast. Become an outsider by joining our Patreon where you'll gain access to monthly bonus stories and exclusive content. And remember, when you support our partners, you're supporting our show.

To access our special discount codes along with source information from today's episode, check out the show notes. For information on the show, to shop our merch store, sign up for our newsletter and more, visit NPAD Podcast.com. And if you're enjoying the show, please rate, review, and subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts. You're listening to this podcast,

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