National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 23

Episode Date: February 16, 2023

Today’s stories include narrow escapes, white water mishaps, wheeling past agoraphobia, near death experiences, desert ghosts and disappearing stairs. 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!Hello Fresh: Use our link and code npad65 for 65% off plus free shipping.Beam: Use our link and code NPAD to get 40% off at checkout.BetterHelp: National Park After Dark is sponsored by BetterHelp. Get 10% off your first month of online therapy by using our link. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Monday AI agents took over my work. And I absolutely love it. Chasing deadlines, writing status reports, updating stakeholders. Agents handle the daily grind now. They live inside Monday.com. So they see the full picture. My work, my team, the whole company. And I don't have to worry about the data.

It's safe, which means I'm free to focus on the big stuff, knowing everything runs smoothly in the background. It's completely shifted the way we work. Create your own AI agent in minutes on Monday.com. 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. Welcome back, everybody, to National Park After Dark. We have yet another trail tales with a lot of really fun stories today.

Would you like to go first and do the honors? I would. Mine is called Whitewater Disaster. You're on a whitewater kick here. Yeah, I am. And we're recording this a little bit early, but I just, episode 95 just came out about the Colorado River. And we just talked about whitewater rafting and things like that. So I thought that this was a fun one to really. read. Says, hi, Danielle and Cassie. My name is M. And I have been a listener of NPAD for quite some time now. And I recommend this podcast to literally everyone. Y'all are amazing and I look forward to a new episode every week. I have been meaning to send in the story for a while now. But I recently listened to the episode about Hendrick Coatesy and his whitewater kayaking. And I knew I had to send my story in. This story takes place in West Virginia after visiting New River Gorge National Park, which was absolutely beautiful. I went with my boyfriend at the time, now an ex-boyfriend. This will be understandable at the end of the story. Ha-ha. We did a lot of hiking and exploring the abandoned places of the park, but New River Gorge is known for its whitewater rafting. I personally hate the water. I love the outdoors and hiking and being surrounded by nature, but I refuse to ever do anything on the water because I simply value my life. Same. I feel I have a new recent veer of water. I don't know what it is, but I can really feel that statement.

But my boyfriend really wanted to do a water activity and I felt bad, so I agreed. He decided we would go kayaking and I agreed as long as it was flat water kayaking, which he said it was. So we rented some kayaks at some adventure place. We were assigned a guide in a small group and we set out for a nice peaceful trip down the river. So I thought. I found out about 20 minutes down the river that we were about to hit the first rapids. I looked at my boyfriend, who was farther ahead of me, and I panicked. I had absolutely no whitewater kayaking experience, and our guide did not give us any instructions

or ask anyone if we knew what the hell we were doing on the river, or even if we had any experience. I told the guide I was probably going to accidentally kill myself, and he laughed. That is when I knew I'd done fucked up. Excuse my French. The first rapids were absolutely terrifying, but since I was the very last kayaker in the group, I did exactly what everyone else was doing. I hit the first wave head on and started paddling while screaming and eventually made it out alive. My guide was telling me I did great and that I have nothing to worry about.

I instantly felt better about this trip and thought that that was probably the hardest it could get. Unfortunately, I was wrong. The next set of rapids was insane. The waves were huge and I was terrified going through. Not only that, but I was so behind everyone else, even the guide. The next thing I knew, my kayak was sucked into the hydraulics and I was tossed under the reach. river. I was being tossed around like crazy. I somehow slipped out of the kayak under the river. Our guide did not tell us what to do in the situation or how to roll the kayak or anything.

I tried to get my legs out of the water to try and float on my back, but the current was so strong I was being pushed into the same rock over and over again. I don't know what the fuck I was doing. I was in panic mode and I remember thinking that I didn't talk to my mom today and I was probably going to die. Eventually, somehow, some way, I made. to get out of the water. The water was moving so, so fast, and I was choking and screaming for help in between coughing up water. The group and guide were pretty far away, but between being tossed under the water and coming back up, I saw the guide make his way towards me. The entire time my kayak was still stuck underwater. My paddle was gone for good. The guide threw me a rope, which I

obviously missed because I was fighting for my life. Eventually, he paddled towards me and grabbed me by my pants and into his kayak, which almost tipped over because there was not enough room. He told me he was not anticipating that. He directed the group towards land and we all got out of the water. People were pissed and were watching me and laughing. I was even more pissed, especially at my boyfriend who didn't seem faze that I had almost lost my life and dignity in the new river. My kayak eventually turned up and was returned by a kind group of whitewater rafters about 15 minutes later. I asked the guide if I could call it quits and was told no. I endured another three hours of this rafting trip and wanted to cry the entire time. I was petrified. On the ride back to the adventure center, my guide asked,

so you really didn't have experience, huh? It was an absolute shit show. I am grateful for this experience, though, because now I know for sure I am definitely not a water sport kind of lady. I stay on land. I have not done anything on water since this day, and even at the beach this summer, I was extremely wary. I definitely think this event sparked a phobia. Although this event was terrifying, I had a wonderful time in the park, and I highly recommend it. Definitely be careful and know what you are signing up for when it comes to water activities. Do not go whitewater kayaking with zero experience, and do not let an overly adventurous boyfriend trick you into a dangerous activity when you have no experience. I hope you guys enjoyed this story, and I hope to hear it

on a trail tale sometime. Thank you so much. I attached some pictures of the park for y'all to see how beautiful it is. Okay, so there was no preliminary filtering out by the guide. I feel like your boyfriend or ex-boyfriend now had to have signed you up for an experienced whitewater raft or a kayak. It wasn't even whitewater rafting and kayaking on white water and didn't tell you. Right. There's no way that they would just be like, all right, well, it doesn't matter if you've never been on the water or not. we're going. There's no way. That's a thing. Yeah. I bet there was some like when he signed you up, there was something that was like, check if you're inexperienced. Because I just can't imagine that there's like a guiding group that wouldn't ask for experience prior like in the signup or like specifically

that class or that tour was like only experienced people, especially if you were the only one who was struggling like that. I mean, that is scary. Water is not something to mess with. Yeah, there's always disclaimers and stuff like that. So yeah. Sorry that happened to you. And I'm glad that guy's your ex. Yeah. We were saying that at the same time.

Like, good. Glad he's gone. 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. My first story is titled Desert Ghost. Hello, hello. My name is Hannah and I have been a listener since literally day one. I'm a part of a Facebook group and a guy made a post saying something along the lines of some girls he knew were starting a podcast that was coming in January and I have been obsessed ever since. And that's for that. So who? Is that Ian? I don't. I don't.

know because he wasn't, I don't know, mate, no. I don't know. I don't know any guy who would post in a group when we first started, except for Ian, who would write that, right? And he also, I will say, he flew under the radar. He wasn't like, oh, my girlfriend and her friend or like, whatever. He, like, pretended. He was a sneaky snake about it. He's like, oh, I know some girls who are going to start this. Like, that was my first thought, but then I was. I was. I was like, I don't know. Like, because then I thought maybe it was Ken. Maybe, but he never mentioned anything to me.

I don't know. Someone out there. Someone out there. It was probably, it was probably Ian. Did it say somewhere in that post, like, and listen to the guitar intro, like, I hear that that guy's pretty good. He's amazing in the start of the show. I don't know.

Okay. Okay. I tell everyone about the stories I hear and always follow up by recommendations. recommending them to just give it a listen. Thanks for starting something so great. Without further ado, here is my story. This isn't a national park, but it is my first possible paranormal experience inside of a park, so I'm very excited to share.

My husband, my father-in-law, and I love the outdoors. My husband and I got engaged and married in Grand Teton, and I have officially been to 22 out of the 63 U.S. national parks, and I have a goal of hitting 30 by 30. Any chance we get, we pack up the camper and try to squeeze in as many places in a single trip as possible. Sounds eerily familiar. This particular trip in September of 2021

just so happened to be stopping in Texas first on our way to White Sands in New Mexico. The park we chose as a good halfway point was Pollo Duro Canyon State Park. Paulo Duro Canyon is a state park located in northern Texas and is the second largest canyon in all of the U.S., obviously behind Grand Canyon.

It is over 120 miles long as it gets as deep as, 600 to 800 feet. It is in the middle of the desert with lots of cacti, many species of snakes and lizards, coyotes, bobcats, and is home to both white-tailed and mule deer. Mountain lions rarely frequent the area due to lack of resources. It is very hot in the summer months, with temperatures exceeding well over 100 degrees frequently. It can be deadly with the most recent death being this past September, exactly one year after we were there. September 7th, 2021. We were there in September 7th, 2022 was the last heat-related death.

After setting up our campsite and taking the first half day to relax, we decided to explore the park a bit more on our second day, and only full day, in the park. The most iconic structure in the park is the lighthouse. It is a huge rock formation that overlooks the entire canyon. The trail leading to it is six miles round trip and is an out-and-back trail. The trail itself is well-established with clear markings the entire way. Like stated earlier, we were all very experienced hikers and took whatever precautions necessary each hike. We decided this would be a good one to do. At the start of the trail,

the park officials have numerous signs stating a minimum of one gallon of water per person and that sun damage can occur with only five to ten minutes of being outdoors. So to wear sunscreen and being a survivor of stage three melanoma, I took that very seriously. Like stated earlier, due to the environment of the area, it can be deadly. And most of the deaths that occur in the park happen on the lighthouse trail either due to dehydration or exposure to the elements. We started this trail in the blazing hot 12 o'clock noon heat, but the views were amazing. We quickly realized there was no shade and started making jokes about how hot it was to keep us from turning back. We talked about future plans, what we were all thinking of having that night

for dinner, and whatever else it took to keep our minds off of the dreaded heat. After about two miles of walking the trail, with only one mile to go to reach the structure, being sure to stop as needed for water breaks, my husband, father-in-law, and I ran into a woman standing alone. Being the observant person I am, I immediately noticed she had dark hair, pants, and a tan t-shirt on, and look to be in her 40s or 50s. Whenever I come across someone walking alone, I always memorize as much as possible about them. It's become a habit of mine. What was weird about this interaction that we didn't think about in the moment is that she had no water, no supplies like a backpack or anything to hold sunscreen or emergency supplies in and was off the trail,

basically just standing in a cactus plant. While passing, we did the friendly nod with the, let me just squeeze right past you face, if you know, you know. But before all three of us could pass, she stopped us and said, if you guys see a tall gentleman wearing an orange shirt and has a child with him, could you tell him that I was walking ahead and to just hurry up? She was smiling and we agreed to keep our eyes peeled. Again, not thinking anything of it. Really, we were just very focused on finding shade at this point. After another three quarters of a mile to the lighthouse, we put the thoughts of the dreaded heat in the back of our minds

while realizing we never passed a tall man wearing an orange shirt with a child. Mind you, this trail has no other trails connecting to it except at the very beginning of the trail, way before our interaction with this woman. So in order for them to have taken those, they would have had to be ahead of her. When we made it to the lighthouse structure and climbed up the steep rocks to get photos,

we continued to search for the man and the child she claimed to be with. When you arrive this close to the lighthouse structure, you just start climbing and at this point in the trail, it's impassable. Meaning if someone is going down, you have to wait until they are all the way down in order for you to start your summit. After still not seeing this man in an orange shirt with a child, we started getting a little freaked out and thought maybe they went off trail to find a shortcut back to the car. Of course, they would have had to walk through the cactus and rattlesnake infested fields to do so with the child, and we just didn't think it was an option. Still standing at the summit of the lighthouse structure where you can see for miles and miles

over the landscape and even all the way back to the parking lot where the trailhead began, we decided to scan the area for an orange-shirted man and nothing. On our way back down the trail, we were hoping to maybe run into her again in the parking lot because surely she wouldn't leave them behind. But we had no luck. Later, after we left the canyon, I came across tons of articles about a woman matching her description, who died years prior on the lighthouse trail. and dead after being separated from her family. Of course, the morbid outdoors man in me wants to believe that this was in fact a ghost on the trail because I have been dying for something like this to happen to me. I can't help but constantly search for a logical explanation. I would love to

hear your thoughts. Thanks again for taking the time to read my maybe ghost story. I know my mom loves it as at our recent Halloween party she was running around telling everyone to ask me about it. I'm always watching my back, Hannah. Well, I would be curious to know. know what her family looks like. The woman who passed was she with her husband and a toddler? I don't know. I don't know. But it's just eerily similar. And we don't believe in coincidences. Right. I think they encountered something for sure. Yeah. A residual type of spirit or something like that. Yeah. I think that that sounds pretty accurate. And it's sad. Yeah, you got haunted for sure. You did. You did get haunted.

All right, well, my next trail tale does not have a title. It goes, hello, my name is Danielle, and I appreciate the care you've put into this show. I listen to it while working out, at work, road trips, you name it. I want to share with you a near-death experience during my internship with the U.S. Forest Service five years ago. Thank you for your time reading my story. I hope it's a reminder for folks that even when you prepare, the trail can take a crooked and winding turn, in the words of Edward Abbey. The most memorable experience of my GeoCorps internship was the treacherous 15-hour hike to Converse Cave in search of pictographs. On a Thursday morning at 9 a.m., my boss and I met a U.S. Forest Service archaeologist at the Ranger District to begin our adventure to locate a cave rumored to contain Native American rock art.

The forest had an old map and scientific journal from the 1950s depicting the location of the Converse Cave, which lies in Converse Basin in the Sequoia National Forest. My boss had attempted to hike to this cave 11 years ago, but ran out of water midway and turned back due to the extreme severity of the hike. The trailless terrain is steep, rocky cliffs covered with dense groves of sharp Manzita and towering poodle dog bushes, some as high as seven feet tall. It sounds like something out of like a mystical book. The poodle dog bushes are covered in tiny acidic hairs that would later cause a harsh allergic reaction similar to poison oak. We began the hike at the top of the ridge about 6,000 feet in elevation at 10 a.m. For four hours, we bushwhacked 1.6 miles down into the bottom of the canyon descending over 3,000 feet. During the descent, my boss's radio got snagged on Manzita and was now lost somewhere.

in the rugged landscape. Upon locating the entrance of Converse Cave, we found that it was more of an enormous cliff outcropping containing remnants of rock art. The archaeologists sketched the drawings, took photos, and recorded details about the area. We ate lunch in the 90-degree summer sun, then refilled our water from the stream using water pumps. At 3 p.m., we began our final trek back up the dry, rough canyon. However, it was around this time that my boss began feeling the symptoms of heat exhaustion. His body was so overheated that he began throwing up all his water and food. This was the moment I knew we were in serious trouble because the next phase of heat exhaustion is blacking out, which can be fatal. If it came to this point, we discussed the possibility of

having to radio dispatch for a search and rescue helicopter. However, the canyon was so remote, there was no reception. Over the next eight hours, we slowly climbed the steep 3,000 foot ascent out of the canyon as frequent breaks were made in order to allow my boss to cool down and avoid blacking out. At 8.30 p.m., the entire canyon grew dark as the sunset behind the distant Sierra Nevada peaks. Luckily, we had our caving headlamps, which would be used for the next four hours to light the rest of the hike. During one of our breaks, just after sunset, I saw a small, circular object land on a branch only a few feet in front of me. My boss turned his light on only to illuminate a little brown-spotted owl, staring at us dumb humans hiking in the dark.

It was around this time that the archaeologist miraculously heard the sound of my boss's long-loss radio in a nearby bush. About two hours before reaching the ridge of the canyon, we had all run out of water and were dragging our feet in exhaustion after hiking for 15 hours straight. At 1 a.m., we crawled over the ridge and finally made it back to the truck. Lips cracked from dehydration, clothes all ripped up, arms bloody, and covered in allergic rashes from the poodle dog bushes. After driving down the mountain, we regained cell phone reception and learned that my boss's wife

called the police to begin a missing people search. I was grateful we lived through the experience, most importantly because his wife and child were at home anxiously worried that my boss was dead. This near-death experience taught me to value teamwork as relying upon each other was the only way we survived. I mean, having people around is like can be all of the difference. It really can. In situation like that.

And the fact that you guys lost your radio for a bit. Yeah. Scary. And then seeing those symptoms, I mean, happy that you made it all out. It sounds like you made a good call of slowly walking back and not pushing him past his limits with those symptoms. Because if you're dehydrated to that point of throwing up and can't keep water down and stuff, you're in a dangerous spot. A critical spot, exactly. As the Krispy Chicken Sandwich from 7-Eleven, people always call.

call me loud. And I'm like, yeah, I know. I'm crispy. Did you expect me to whisper? If you want quiet, go eat some soup and reflect. Like, I know I'm a handful. I'm bold. I'm juicy. Throw some pickles and barbecue sauce on me and baby I'm a whole meal. And with seven rewards, I'm just $4. Quiet. No. Krispy, saucy, and $4? Very. Only at 7-Eleven. Valley through 62326 participating stores only while supplies lastly out for full terms. All right. Sharp left turn to my next one. Okay. And it is. titled, A Trail from an agoraphobic wheelchair user, Gasp. Hi, Danielle and Cassie. My name is Lira, and I guess I'm not the typical audience for your podcast, because I'm disabled and have cerebral palsy

and I rarely get outside, and am, in fact, afraid of it. The only time I really remember hiking was when I was six years old in physical therapy using crutches, and my physical therapist got me Pokemon stickers at the end as a reward. Basically, I don't get out much. But part of why I love your podcast is because it can take me to so many places that I would otherwise never get to go. Also, I clocked you guys as Wild Thornberry's fans pretty much immediately and was thrilled when you brought it up as someone who went as Eliza Thornberry for many Halloweens. Love that. I loved that show so much. Such a throwback. I'm Nigel Thornberry. Yeah, I loved it. That was a spot-on impression, by the way.

Thank you. I just... just loved like, I don't know why, but, okay, Debbie, you know, how she was like the angsty teen and Eliza, who was just like super like, you know, off the walls. And, um, I always would make fun of Ian because I'm like, if you were ever a character, you would be, what's his name, Donnie? Yeah, the little brother. Is it Donnie? The crazy hair. The little brother is wild. He's just wild. And he doesn't even really talk. He just like, he's like, he's like, makes noises and rents around. Yeah. And like, like, climbs on things and stuff, yeah.

Okay, anyway. So you were right, you definitely pinned us correctly. I don't know if this counts as a trail tale, honestly, and I doubt it will make it on the podcast, but I did want to say that I discovered your podcast early this year and listened to it pretty often with my dad. He's too practical for the ghost stories, but he's enjoyed the other types of episodes and has even known about some of the incidents. I listened to it from about January to March and then moved on to some other shows. I tend to listen to about a of one before moving on as I have migraines and they tend to be one of the only forms of entertainment I can stand during them. However, I recently came back into my orbit and I just finished all of your

catalog today. When I heard about Ian, my heart broke out to you guys, particularly Danielle. Around the same time, maybe a week or so before your tragedy, my dad was diagnosed with stage four colorectal cancer. This has been pretty hard since he's my main caretaker and has been my rock for just about everything most of my life. And I was shocked to find that you too had been rocked by a way too brutal 2022. Your podcast has gotten me through many days of worrying about him through surgeries and chemo, learning how to shower without him and trying my best to mature and put on a brave face. It's pretty much been my constant for months now. I didn't think I would ever have something to write into you guys and I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your podcast, but then something

happened on my birthday. I had a very emotional birthday this year. because my dad was still recovering and things haven't felt really the same. Heck, it's Christmas Eve and I don't even really feel it. But I was surprised with a paint night and some wine, so I tried to be gracious and go. Even though it was pretty physically trying for me, and I wasn't having much fun and my dad hadn't shown up. I was trying to hang in there and to smile.

At a certain point, when it looked like my dad wouldn't be coming, I just broke. I was wheeled into the bathroom because I could not stop sobbing. I was convinced I just wanted to go home and the last place I ever wanted to be was there. But no such thing as coincidences, apparently. As soon as I was done crying my eyes out after being moved to another location, two older men approached me.

They were from out of state and here for one of the man's own throat cancer treatments, and they just happened to stop into this place and see me. They sympathized greatly with my family and with my dad, and they offered to buy my painting. I was shocked. I basically just made that thing into a big old blobby gray mess, not following any of the instructions and instead just going with what I was viving with at the moment. But there these two dudes were, offering to buy it from me.

How could I say no? They had me sign my initials in the corner, take a picture with me, and gave me very warm hugs, and called me sweetheart and wished me well. Again, I know this isn't like anything to do with the outdoors whatsoever, but is something that made me grateful to hang in there when times were tough and something that made me glad I went outside, which is a pretty tough thing to do in the winter, Mother Nature is ablest as fuck.

LMAO. I just wanted to share the story of how wonderful it was that two random guys from out of state who were also dealing with cancer in their own lives somehow made their way to me. It resonated with me as something important. And since your voices have seen me through probably the hardest year of my life, I thought it was fitting to make sure that you received this. This podcast has seen me through the before and after, and I'm sure Danielle can relate to that even more.

I know it's not the same thing, but to have your life changed so abruptly and traumatically probably carries a lot of similar feelings. Thank you both for allowing me to go places I would never go during a time when I have needed to escape more than ever. You'll be pleased to know that my dad is currently cancer-free according to his scans and on his last six weeks of chemo. I was worried I wouldn't get to spend Christmas with him and now I can, which is nothing short of a miracle.

Just wanted to throw my story out there into the universe and say that I am truly sorry 2020 has been so harrowing. I hope 2020 brings many adventures to come, and though I can't go on any of your baller trips, I hope they slap. Enjoy the view, even when your idea of a big day outdoors involves a really steep ramp, sending lots of light and love and apologies for this disjointed mess. In lieu of a picture of myself, here's one of my cat, Deamsie. I rescued her when she was six weeks old, and she is my constant companion. Happy holidays, Lira. Lira. You're just like, make me tear up.

Touching our hearts and making us cry and are we all crying right now? That was just like, I'm a little emotional, which doesn't say much these days. But, um, yeah. I mean, I just love that so much because obviously the coincidence thing, but hearing your story and how our podcast has impacted you and your life and just a reminder to everyone, like we share a lot of extreme outdoor stories and whitewater rafting and scaling mountains and all of this crazy stuff. But like you said, going outdoors sometimes,

like climbing your mountain means different things to different people. And it doesn't take away from how extraordinary that can be, even if it is just going to a paint night. You know what I mean? Like accomplishing these things means something different to everyone and it looks different to everyone. And it doesn't make it any less amazing. So congratulations for how, you know, what, how you're doing and congrats to your dad.

And it's just been a really. tough year and we just wanted to say thank you for writing in. Yeah, your really kind words and how much our podcast has helped you is the whole reason we, it's everything that we could hope for that our podcast has become is to help. And a lot of people have written in and been like, I'm not what I think your typical audience would be. And you would be surprised that we don't have a typical audience because this podcast is for everyone. And just to hear how much it has affected your life in such a positive way. It just, it means a lot to us. Mm-hmm. My next story is titled, Beartooth Mountains, A Storm, Teva Sandals, and Bad Leadership.

Hi, Cassie and Danielle. I am thrilled to share a trail tale of my own with you both and your listeners. I listen to your podcast every day I work out in the field for the U.S. Forest Service as a field ranger. I do a lot of driving for my job and your podcast has helped keep me on the edge of my seat. Now it's time for me to share my own story. I believe it fits with a third. theme of National Park After Dark. In 2015, at the age of 22, I made the bold move to get a seasonal job at Yellowstone National Park as a cabin housekeeper for Roosevelt Lodge after traveling for a few years. Before I dive into my story, I want to provide a brief history about Roosevelt Lodge as told by the National Park Service. Indians, fur trappers, and explorers on the Booneck Trail camped in this

area where a sage bush meadow was encircled by Douglas fir, quaking Aspen, and a mrs. mountain stream tumbled towards the Yellowstone River. President Chester Arthur camped here in 1883. In 1906, the Wiley Permanent Camping Company built a tent camp there that became known as Camp Roosevelt, though Theodore Roosevelt never camped there. The tents were replaced by a lodge and the cabins in 1920, and the Lost Creek had shifted course, but people still enjoy staying at the scenic spot on the park's northern range. The lodge constructed of unpeeled logs and completed in 1920 was originally surrounded by 43 small log cabins, the first of which were completed in 1922. The Roosevelt Lodge Historic District is 23 miles southeast of the north entrance of Yellowstone National Park

and includes 130 buildings. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1983, with a period of significance from 1906 to 1948. The accommodations are still rustic with unpaved roads into and around the lodge and cabins, although the Grand Loop Road can be seen. from the corral, which is not part of the historic district, it is obscured from view of the lodge and most of the cabins by a stand of mature trees. The area has undergone intermittent expansion and changes as visitor use has changed and facilities have aged over the years. The architectural appearance of the original lodge is retained only in the interior and exterior of the front portion, the lounge and dining room. The other sections of the building have been modified. The

interior has become congested with multiple activities, some of which were not part of the original building, a bar vending machines, gift shops, and offices. Rosie, as we seasonal residents call our dwelling, is indeed very rustic with no phone service or Wi-Fi. It felt like I was living in the 70s, sleeping in shanty cabins with only a wood stove, a light switch, and three to four twin beds. Rosie is the smallest workstation in the park, with a little under 100 employees compared to the old faithful where there are over 1,000. Rosie was very different from the others because the other areas did have Wi-Fi and most headphone service, and we were also considered the crazy cowboys because of the Wranglers who worked in the horse stables and loved their whiskey straight.

Rosie provided a tight-knit community, but not without its chaos and drama. There were certainly cliques such as the Wranglers, the D&D nerds, the extreme hikers, the musicians, the lodge servers, the random friends, and the housekeepers. where I fit in. I was new to hiking and backpacking and wanted to gain more experience with it, so when I heard about an all-woman's hike with a few of the Rosie residents, I immediately asked if I could go. We were a group of five and I will change their names for the sake of their privacy in this tale. I was friends with three of them, Emmy, Dolly, and Taylor, but the fourth was a Ukrainian girl named Yuley, who I didn't know very well and was rather intimidated by it due to her stern nature and strong personality.

Our destination was Lake Fork Trail to Black Canyon Lake in the Beartooth Mountains. For those of you who haven't heard of the Beartooth Mountains, you are surely missing out. The Beartooth Mountains are home to the highest 41 peaks in Montana, including Granite Peak, which is the highest at 12,799 feet. The district serves as the Northern Gateway to Yellowstone National Park and is home to the Beartooth Scenic Highway, which is constantly rated one of the most scenic mountain drives in America. The Beartooth Mountains are part of the greater Yellowstone ecosystem and share many wildlife viewing possibilities, including elk, deer, grizzly bear, black bear, moose, mountain goats, big horn sheep, mountain lions, wolverines, fissures, and many other animals. After driving for a few hours through the breathtaking Beartooth Highway and a few stops to look at grizzly bears and mountain goats,

we made it to Lake Fork Trailhead. My inexperienced self-carried, a small backpack with a bladder bag, a cotton t-shirt, cotton flannel, and semi-waterproof jacket to go with my cotton leggings and hiking boots. Yule was the most experienced hiker of all of us, and I was probably the most inexperienced. We snapped a group photo at the trail sign and headed up the 6.5 mile one way where we found many elk bones scattered around. We saw a female moose across the Lake Fork Creek and played in the water in a few particularly beautiful areas. The trail was incredibly beautiful with mountain peak views, a roaring glacial stream, and alpine lakes. However, about two miles up the trail, Yuley decided we were too slow and took off at a very fast pace.

Emmy ran after her to keep up while I stayed with Dolly and Taylor. I remember feeling a little confused as to why Yuley felt the need to trudge ahead since we had come together as a group. But I tried my best to let it go. This was the first flag to lead up to near disaster. At approximately five miles, Dolly Taylor and I made it to the Lost Lake Junction. We did not have a way to communicate with Yule and Emmy, so we were at a little bit of a little bit. literal crossroads. Could they have gone up to the Lost Lake first? I inquired. Dalian Taylor did not seem to be worried about that at all in the confusion, so Taylor said, let's go find out. And they

headed up the one mile trail to Lost Lake. I hesitated before following, looking towards the trail to Black Canyon Lake, our original destination, before shaking my head and going up after Dolly and Taylor. When we arrived at the Lost Lake, there was no one in sight. The beautiful, slightly cloudy, sunny day we had been experiencing was starting to become engulfed in solid gray cloud cover. This is when I knew something wasn't right. Let's hurry back to the trail to see if we can catch up to Yuley and Emmy, I implored, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice. I was, after all, the most inexperienced hiker and did not want to show any sign that I was afraid. Okay, said Dolly, and we jog back down to the junction. Once we arrived at the junction, we reached 9,000 feet and turned onto the trail towards Black Canyon Lake.

Now I need to clarify that the actual Lake Fork Trail does not officially go up to Black Canyon Lake. Prior to this hike, a friend from Rosie gave us handwritten directions to Black Canyon Lake on a lodge napkin. As ridiculous as that sounds, back then I didn't know any better. This particular lake, which sits approximately at 10,000 feet, had no official trail leading to it. Right when we got to a big wooden bridge crossing Lake Fork Creek, we were meant to head southwest and follow a runoff stream, which would take us to the edge of the lake. Yuley had ensured us that she could get us there, so we were fully trusting her to be able to do so. Dolly, Taylor, and myself finally made it to the wooden bridge where Yuley and Emmy were waiting for us. Thank God I thought. I felt a huge sense of relief and took my pack off to take a break.

Yuley was leaning against the rail, arms crossed and tapping her Tiva sandals, impatiently on the ground. What took you so long? She asked in her heavy accent. We have been waiting forever. Dolly and Taylor were having a conversation and laughing about something beside me. me, so I answered, we were going as fast as we could. We were worried something may have happened to you guys. Sorry, I said, feeling slightly embarrassed. Yuley rolled her eyes. Well, let's get going, she exclaimed, and started walking off the trail into the brush. I gavden looked around at Emmy, who had a look of sympathy on her face. Can we just take a second to chill? Also, did you not notice the clouds coming in?

I feel like we should just go back to the car. These words took a lot of courage for me to get out, but I meant what I said. Yulee whipped around. Are you kidding? me. We're almost there. Clouds are normal, Emmy. Let's go. And with that, Yuley continued with Emmy trailing behind her, followed by Dolly, Taylor, and then me. About five minutes into our off-trail excursion, I heard thunder. That's when tiny drops of rain started to fall. Guys, let's go back. I think there's a storm coming. We should get out of here. I yelled since they were much further ahead of me. No answer. Guys, I said even louder. We need to go back. The thunder started getting louder. The drops started getting bigger. I started to feel panic rising in my throat. The clouds were

nearly black. I pleaded with Dolly and Taylor and they both took a second to think about it, then decided I was right. Emmy, Yuley, we need to leave now. A lightning bolt then struck the tree on the ridge. The flash was bright and a loud crack of thunder immediately followed after. I wondered if we should just start going without them, but my feet wouldn't move. I couldn't leave anyone behind in good conscience. Finally, Yuley and Emi turned around and swiftly hiked past me. More lightning struck. One, two, three strikes. We were 9,500 feet up with minimal tree cover.

I was freaking out internally. Suddenly, hail the size of quarters, cascaded down from the angry skies, pelting us, and causing the trail to flood. Run, I screamed. My breaths became rapid. I felt immense terror and adrenaline took hold. The five of us sprinted at full speed down the trail while lightning. struck all around us. The hail felt like gravel raining on our heads and faces, and the trail quickly filled with freezing water. About 20 minutes later, Yuli stopped and cried hysterically. My feet, my feet,

I can't feel my feet. I looked down and saw that the socks she wore in her Teva sandals were soaking wet and starting to freeze. I took her face in my hands to help her calm down and said, Yuli, I know this is really scary and you can't feel your feet, but we've got to get out of here. I have extra socks in the car. I know you can make it. With that, Yuley gasped for air as her panic attack began to subside and she swiftly began running again. Another half hour passed and Taylor fell. Since I was in the very back, I was able to run up to her instantly. Are you okay? What happened?

I asked trying to help her up as she began to put her weight on her left ankle. She cried out. My ankle, ow, my ankle hurts. There was no time to assess. So I assumed that she sprained her ankle. I looked up and saw that Yuley, Emmy, and Dolly were nearly out of sight, still sprinting towards the trailhead. I cursed under my breath and said, Okay, we can do this together. Let's go. Let's go. Up you go. I helped pick her up with my right side and leaned her bad leg against me. Our speed was much slower this way, but I was not about to leave her behind in the storm.

The lightning had subsided in the area we were in, but I could still see it striking the peaks above us. The hill continued to splutter the trail and visibility was not great. What felt like days of struggling finally ended once we reached the trailhead seven miles later. Yuley, Emmy, and Dolly were in the car with a heat blasting. Our clothes were completely drenched, not one piece with any dryness remaining. Shivering violently, Taylor fumbled with her boots. I asked if anyone could help us, but the three girls in the car were also shivering and shook their heads. I managed to get Taylor's boots and socks off before hopping in the car next to her.

The five of us peeled out of the parking lot and drove to Red Lodge a small mountain town with the assurance of a tourist clothing store, where we stripped down to our underwear and threw on I-heart Montana shirts, pants, and sweatshirts. After narrowly escaping what could have been catastrophe, I assume we would talk about it once we sat down for a hot meal at a local restaurant. Instead, Yulee, Emmy, Dolly, and Taylor acted like nothing had happened and simply summed it up as crazy, then proceeded to talk about boys back at Rosie. I was flabbergasted. Had no one experienced what I just did? Had no one realized that our leadership skills nearly killed us? Was I insane? Reflecting upon this experience now as a very experienced hiker, backpacker, and wilderness first responder, I can't help it shake my head and sigh. Although I was the least experience of the group, I believe I was the safest to be with. Thank you for sharing my story, sincerely Liz. I can relate to the like after something.

really scary happens and you're like, oh, that was crazy anyway. And then she's like, on to the next. Like when I was a teenager and driving and like almost dying multiple times, you just kind of like. You have like a mini heart attack and then turn your music back on and keep singing. Yeah. Like a moment of silence. And if you're with someone, you just kind of like look at them and laugh and you're like,

okay, so anyway, it's just like, okay, we all hold on a minute. We almost just died. You know what I mean? Yeah. I do have to say though, like the people you were hiking with, just based on how you described it, sounded like they were really horrible people to hike with. And I say that for a couple of reasons. And it's because I think that a huge rule when you're out hiking with friends is when you're hiking with friends, you are as fast as the slowest hiker on the trip because you don't separate and you

don't leave other people to fend for themselves part of working together. And you did mention like leadership skills and stuff. But I think it's when you are out, if you're out with a group, if you're out with a pair, you are always as fast as the slowest person. And that's just how it has to be. It doesn't matter if you're with people who are in better shape than you or more experienced than you. You don't separate because that's when things get dangerous. And the fact that you got to the car and like you're, you just struggled to help carry your friend down this mountain and you're at the car and you're like, hey, can you guys help? And they all just sat there and was like, no, we're cold. It just like, yeah, part of it is teamwork and I hope that this was like a valuable lesson for them.

And I hope that it's a valuable lesson for people listening to just know the people that you're hiking with because you don't want to be. Luckily, things went okay. But you guys were having to run. They didn't listen to you when you were nervous. And being in the outdoors is listening to the people that you're with. And if you're with someone who's really scared and isn't comfortable with the level, you also only hike at the level of whatever. everyone is comfortable with. So if you're comfortable hiking at 15 miles, but the person you're with is only comfortable hiking seven, you hike seven. Like there's exactly. It's just there were so many

things that I felt like were totally missed that made this super dangerous. So just to keep that in mind when you're hiking with your friends and your family, just know, be prepared for the level you're hiking at because everyone needs to be safe. Absolutely. I'm going to finish us off with a little bit of a mystery. Oh, okay. It is titled Stairs. Oh, very mysterious. And we got this a what I'm just going to say, I've pulled for the next, like this episode has a couple, and I've prepared for next trail tale, our next couple trail tales. And I've been going through our backlog. Like, so just because we haven't read your trail tale doesn't mean we never will, because this one is from a very long time ago. 2021. Oh, yeah. Wait, what we're, we're in 2000.

When this releases... Oh, but when this releases, it's 2023. Yeah, so it will take two years for this. It's your moment now, okay? So this person who would like to remain anonymous, so anonymous, it's your time to shine. It begins, I greatly enjoy your podcast. Please keep up the good work. I would like to tell you a story concerning the staircase phenomenon.

Background info, I am retired military and a former park ranger for the National Park Service. I give guided tours on history and sometimes environmental issues. The place I conduct my tour is about two and a half miles from the nearest visitor center. It's not uncommon for a child to get temporarily separated from his or her family while at the visitor center. Usually, the child wanders away to the bathroom or gift shop and is found within a few minutes. One sunny afternoon, I was finishing my tour when the call came in on my radio. Child missing, seven-year-old boy, his name, description, clothing, etc. Last seen at the visitor center about a half an hour ago.

I got in my vehicle and started heading back to the visitor center to help with the search. About three quarters of a mile down the road, I noticed a staircase in the woods. It was about 150 yards from the road. Well, at first, I didn't know it was a staircase. It was just a structure that was out of place in this forested natural environment. Now, I have driven the same road twice every day for a year. It has never been there before. I have driven and sometimes walked this route hundreds of times.

So I pulled over and walked towards the structure. About halfway there, I could definitely recognize it as a staircase. Within 20 yards of it, I am overcome with a feeling of dread, and it stops me in my tracks. I also notice I don't hear the normal sounds of nature. No birds, no insects, no wind. Just a twilight zone type of silence. The air feels stagnant, smells old, like when you walk into a long abandoned building. I walk about five more yards towards the staircase and I start to make mental notes.

Wooden, handrail only on the left side that ended in a thin post, wider landing at the top, clean, somehow is more lit and brighter than its surroundings. I stop and am awestruck by this staircase that does not belong here. I'm trying to think, has it been here all along and I just never noticed it? If it has been here for a long time, why isn't it dirty and weathered? I decided not to move closer and instead I turn it. around to head back to the car. I walk several yards when I heard footsteps running towards me from the direction of the staircase. I spin around and it's a young boy. The boy matching the description of the

missing child, only he looks a bit older than seven. I have a nine-year-old and this boy looked closer to nine than seven. He's crying and wraps his arm around my waist. I'm shocked out of words, totally speechless. The first thing he says is, why didn't you come and get me when I was yelling at you from the stairs. I know that I did not hear or see anyone on the stairs, much less a yelling kid. I grabbed his hand and told him to come with me and we started walking back to my car. He's walking lightly and I'm in a hurry. I tell him that we need to walk faster and he replies that he can't walk fast because he doesn't have shoes. I hadn't noticed that before, but indeed he didn't have shoes. I asked him what happened to his shoes and he told me that he

had taken them off because they were too small. That's when I observed. that all his clothes seemed to be way too small for him. They looked old and faded. His shirt was above his belly button, and his pants were tight and much too short. I found it odd that his parents would have dressed him in such a manner. When we made it back to the car and I put him in, buckled his seatbelt, and I climbed in.

I got on the radio and notified it headquarters that I had found the boy. I verified his name and was told to come back to the visitor center. His parents were there waiting for him. As I started to drive, the boy exclaimed that he surprised his parents are still there, after all this time. I tell him it's been less than an hour, so of course his parents were there. They had reported him missing. In his innocent child voice, he calmly says, no, it's been way longer. I ask him why he thinks that. And he replied that he's been gone for a very long time. And that's why he grew too big for his shoes. I am just one giant goose bump at this point. Internally,

I am freaking out. But I stay calm and assure him that everything will be fine and that his parents are just a few minutes away. When I drive up to the visitor center, I see two law enforcement vehicles, my supervisor, and a set of distraught parents that I soon find out are the parents of this young boy. One of the law enforcement officers opens the door for the boy and he jumps out and runs to his family. They all embrace and I could see the relief in the parent's eyes. That look quickly fades in the eyes of the mother. I could tell that something was off. She looked confused. I looked at the father and he had the same baffled look. The father held the boy at arm's length and looked him up and down. remember as a kid when a relative you haven't seen in a couple years comes to visit,

and they always say, wow, look at you, you've grown so much since the last time I saw you. The last time I saw you, you were only this tall. That was the look in the father's eyes. The family was ushered away by law enforcement to fill out a report or something. I drove to the other end of the parking lot where we park rangers park our government vehicles. I entered the building through the side door and went to find the law enforcement rangers as I was sure they needed to talk details for the report. My supervisor was waiting nearby.

and walk with me to the law enforcement office. We all sat down at a table, the family, my supervisor, and two law enforcement rangers. The parents signed a paper confirming that they had taken custody of the child. The parents still looked concerned and bewildered and puzzled. The boy's arms were tightly wrapped around his mother, and the three left the room. The law enforcement rangers asked me about the incident. As soon as I mentioned the staircase, I was stopped. The law enforcement rangers stood up and left the room, leaving only me and my supervisor at the table. About a minute later, the park superintendent walked in. He handed me a typed statement that read I had found the boy walking on the road and I had brought him back to the visitor center. This is exactly what happened,

right? His voice stern and forbidding. I decided that this was not worth losing my job over. I scribbled my name on the statement. He had my supervisor tell me to never speak of any of these days events and I walked out of the office and pretended like none of this ever happened. And no, the staircase was not there the next time I drove by. anonymous. That is the weirdest story I've ever heard. I was waiting for the boy to like disappear in the backseat of the car and it was just like an apparition or something, but it was the staircase the whole time. Like what in the world? What? That's like another dimension. Well, that's the thing. That's like, it's like he went somewhere and he was still maturing. Like,

and he's like, I've been gone for a really long time. All his clothes are like, his parents are like, this does not look like how we left him a half an hour ago. Like, you know what? There's just a lot. Like, it's the same clothes, but he's taller and older. And it's the same kid. Yeah. Do do do do do do do do.

That's the twilight thing, right? Twilight Zone theme. Wow. Well, that was a cool one to end it on. It was. And the fact that it's like it was a ranger and like it just adds a huge layer of credibility. And maybe he is making or she, I don't know, is making this shit up. and it's just like a cool story, like a creepy pasta type of thing. But man, I don't think they're making

up. I believe them. I believe them, whoever it is. But yeah. Oh, that's so weird. So anyway, okay. Well, cool. Well, end it on that. We do have two bonus trail tales that we're going to read. So stick around if you're on Patreon. But for everyone else, you can join Patreon if you want to listen to them. But for everyone else, enjoy the view. But watch you're back. Bye. Bye. 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.

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