National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 26

Episode Date: March 30, 2023

Today’s stories include brotherly love, body discoveries, drunken heroes, and signs from feathered friends. Outsiders Only bonus stories available for Patreon and Apple Subscribers!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!Alo Moves: Use code NPAD to get a free 30-day trial plus 50% off an annual membership. 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. Hello everyone. Welcome back to Trail Tales, our favorite. I have some, I say this all the time. I have a good one. I have good ones, but I do have really good ones this time around too.

I have some fun ones too. Last time, okay, so last time I realized I was like losing my shit because everything was so funny. So I'm not, it's not as funny, but they're all really interesting and I want to go first if that's okay. Cool. Well, you take the stage. Cool. All right. So my first story is titled Signs and Whippoorwills. at Red River Gorge. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. My husband and I have been avid listeners since discovering your podcast on our cross-country trip in our schoolie last year. Your recent episode of Diana of the Dunes

even inspired us to incorporate a stop at Indiana Dunes on our upcoming trip to the Badlands. We love your podcasts and Trail Tales have always been some of my personal faves. I pondered most of last year on our trips and if we ever had anything to write in about. In your more recent episodes, Danielle and her love of signs

reminded me of a story that I have about my brother. My brother Jake was always an avid outdoorsman, a huge source of warmth and laughter and oftentimes quite reckless. Always the life of the party, but also intensely introspective, pondering the questions of life and searching for meeting in the outdoors. Two years ago, he passed away from an accidental overdose. My world came crashing down, and I was left to collect the pieces of our parents and myself. As I was searching for answers enclosure, my dad suggested we contact a medium in hopes to connect with Jake. The medium we ended up contacting specializes in animal mediumship. So we started the session with her communicating with my dad's newly adopted toy schnauzer Fancy. The medium told us things that were certainly accurate. It's the

backstory we had about Fancy and she even brought up specific things my dad had been doing for her that she liked. So we were definitely feeling like she had a gift. After our session of talking with the dog, we asked about Jake. The medium took a few. of his items that my dad had and spent some time outside in the yard grounding herself. Once she came back, she began channeling my brother. She told us things that only he would know, like bringing up the nickname he had for me. The nickname was poo, typical of an older brother, but an inside joke for us that no one outside of our family would know. The medium also brought up the names of family members Jake said he was in the company of. Many things were so spot on.

Lastly, she said Jake kept saying, Whipperwill. The medium admitted she wasn't sure what that or what it even was, I told her it was a bird, and she said that would make sense if maybe he was telling us to look out for a bird as a sign of him. Flash forward to this spring after his passing, we had planned a trip to the Red River Gorge in Daniel Boone National Forest. I was having mixed feelings about this trip because I knew it was something Jake would have loved to be a part of. We had many of the same friends, and I know they would all be missing him as well.

We had rented an Airbnb, as you may know, the exact address isn't usually given until the arrival time. Upon checking the booking, we found our cabin was off of a road named Whippoorwill. I was excited and a bit sad to see the name, but I knew I would find peace out there knowing that Jake was coming with us. The first night at the cabin, we all gathered around the fire and I began telling stories. Most stories were filled with Jake's memory. I hadn't relayed the information about the coincidence and symbolism of Whippoorwill, but was feeling all in all very sad. With teary eyes, I told her friends about the connection to Jake and the name of the road. Just at that time, what sounded like at least five or six whippoorwill started their tell-tale call from the trees.

Echoing across the night, their melody, Whipperwill, Whipperwill, filled the air. I knew it was Jake telling us that he was there, reminding us that he's listening and watching out for us. I immediately felt at peace, and I was thankful our friends were able to experience his presence with us. I continually look for signs and smile when I get to. catch a song of a Whippoorwill. Even though he's gone from this consciousness, I still feel him and have a bit more peace about his passing. My big brother is still watching out for me. I'm including

a photo of Jake in one of our favorite places, the Badlands. He was a wonderful photographer. He set this photo and basically told me to hold still and push the button to capture it. Also including a picture of fancy because she's just too darn cute and deserve some attention. Thanks for reading. I'll be looking for more signs from Jake as my husband and I go back to the Badlands for our five-year anniversary in September, and maybe I'll have another sign story to share. Enjoy the view and always watch for signs, Katie. I love that. I know.

And it is a telltale melody. Like, I have it ringing in my head now. That song of the Whippoorwill. I always thought it was like Whippoorwillow for some reason, but maybe that's just like a false memory. But I know exactly what she's talking about. And next time I hear it, I'll think of Jake. I love that. Starting off with a science story.

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 next story is not a science story. is titled, Monkeys and Rivers and Corpses, Oh My. Wait, really? Yeah. I have one that's very similar titled. What's yours title? Hold on. Let me look.

Lions, Tigers, and Emus, oh my. I feel like we're always on the same wavelength whenever we pick our stories. Hi, Danielle and Cassie. I just started listening a few weeks ago and I'm high-key obsessed with MPAD. As a New England gal myself, I have absolutely love listening to you all. Anyways, I was listening to one of your trail tales and I remembered something that happened to me when I was in high school that I thought I would share. This doesn't take place in the U.S. or in a national park as far as I know, but it was outside and it was pretty spooky. When I was 18, so a senior in high school, I had the opportunity to go to India with a group of classmates.

There were probably around 18 of us on the trip where we got to spend time in the foothills of the Himalayas in a beautiful town called Musari. next to the Jabarnik Nature Reserve. They're called the foothills because they're so similar to the true Himalayan mountains nearby, even though we were staying at an elevation higher than Mount Washington Summit. I don't have the words to describe the sheer beauty of this area and how absolutely breathtaking it was to see the snowy Himalayan Mountains in a far distance. I'm pretty sure this adventure is what made me start falling in love with the outdoors as I had grown up as a city kid.

I would highly recommend adding it to the list. As a side note, while we were staying here, we got stocked and eventually attacked by monkeys, harmlessly. We were walking through the woods and they started making noises at us. So someone not affiliated with our group threw a rock at them and the monkeys proceeded to run by us and slap our legs as they went by. So we sprinted back to our housing. But to the meat of the story, we had the opportunity to Whitewater raft the Genghis River in the city of Rishakish. Sorry if I'm pronouncing all this wrong. I didn't look it up beforehand. It's absolutely insane.

could not stress how more amazing and beautiful this area of Northern India is and how much I want to go back. While we were rafting, we pulled off into an eddy and got out to hang out at a sandy area next to the river. We were playing games and generally messing around when all of the sudden, one of the guys on my trip stopped short and yelled for everyone else. Right under where his next step would have been was a decomposing human body. Warning, it's kind of gross. It still had pieces of its flesh attached to the skeleton and we could see where the last remnants of tissue were peeling off on the body's forearms. It was still wearing clothes but had clearly been in that spot for a while. A few feet away from the body was another decomposing corpse of a monkey, not unlike the ones that had attacked us earlier.

We all kind of stood there and stared and started hypothesizing what could have happened to this person and the monkey until our chaperones shoot us away. We went on with the rest of the trip, but questions about where the body came from and what happened to it have stuck in my mind forever. I still don't fully know how to process the event. On one hand, I think it gave my younger self an incredible understanding of human mortality. But on the other hand, the level of decomposition made it feel less real in a weird way. It was definitely emotional, eye-opening, and slightly traumatic. According to our RAF guides, it's most common for people to be cremated when they die, particularly in Hinduism, which was the major religion in the area.

I'm not sure if the person had an accident, was murdered, committed suicide, or my group's theory, had a fight to the death with a monkey beside them. But whatever it was, I hope their soul found rest. I'm not sure whatever happened to the body, whether someone was called to investigate, or if it ended up being swallowed by the river, but definitely a memorable part of our trip. Anyways, that's all, thought you might enjoy. Enjoy the view, Sloan. Okay.

Well, not to remember how I have a similar title. story. Yeah. My next story is literally called, yep, it's a body. Well, we're definitely on the same wavelength for this. If there was any question. Yeah. Wow. I mean, what a like startling thing to see, you know, like, ruin my whole trip, I think. Yeah. It's something you can't get out of your mind. Yeah. I'm glad it didn't ruin your whole trip. And I guess when you're 18, like, I guess I would have a different perspective now versus when I was younger. But wow, that's scary. It's scary. You don't know what happened and it's odd and well and it's the unfinished like portion of it like what like the it's you just saw it and then that's it was this person what happened yeah the lack of more information

to kind of tie it up in your mind is probably the most difficult thing about all that yeah well like i said my story is called yep it's a body hello cassie and daniel love the show and as a fellow human in the veterinary field i always get a kick of when you talk about vet tech things i told myself if I passed the NAVLE. I finally have time to tell you about my biggest misadventure and well, here we are at last. About a decade ago, I was crabbing with my father in southern Connecticut. For those who aren't familiar, crabbing is when you tie a drumstick to a string as bait and use it to reel blue crabs and close enough to scoop them up with a net and throw them in a bucket. It's all tied dependent, so this particular night we were out after dark and only had a couple

of good hours before the crabs would go back out to sea. We tramped through the drier areas of the swamp and casted our lines to no success. Nothing was biting. Any crabs our floodlight landed on were under the length limit. What had started as a drizzle was now becoming a steady beat of rain, and there were flashes of lightning headed our way from across the ocean. With the tide coming in and our islands of dried mud starting to disappear, I started to tell my dad that we should probably be heading back.

The second I made a noise, his hand shot out to cover my mouth and squelched it. I scrunched my eyebrows at him, confused, and he put a finger in front of his lips and turned off the flashlight, plunging us into darkness. As my eyes adjusted to the moonlight, I noticed that he had gone stock still, staring at the opposite shore underneath the road. There was a huge, tubular shape on the bank, but it was hard to make out what it was. I crept closer to my dad and whispered in his ear. What is it? He took a second to respond, which was no help to my spiked heart rate.

Finally, after what seemed like in eternity, he admitted that someone was rolled up in a rug on the shore. He wasn't moving. Once he said it out loud, my mind filled in the pieces that it hadn't been willing to put together. The rug was red, rolled tight in a thick bundle. A white face was hidden by a shock of dark hair at the top. At the bottom, pale ankles were revealed any time the waves were seated. The turning tide already obscured his feet. There was no reaction from the water licking his feet. I asked my dad if we should yell and try and wake him up. With the tide coming in and the storm building above us, it didn't seem like he would be safe if he was still alive. Now, take this next part with a grain of salt.

My father is a particular person who doesn't exactly think like most people, much more of a black and white, all-or-nothing type of guy. He responded to my inquiry with, well, he's either dead, in which case we can't help him, or he's a druggie, and he could hurt you if we wake him up. Leave him for the crabs to eat. I argued a little, and we compromised by turning the light back on and pointing it at the guy.

But there was no response at all. The pallor of his skin was blinding under the lights. Unsuccessful and convincing my father to take any other action, we left the marsh and drove to his friend Jimmy's house to drop off the few crabs we had collected. At his friend's house, I immediately jumped out of the car and shouted, Jimmy, you're not going to believe this. There's a body in the swamp. Thus ensued about five solid minutes of back and forth where he accused us of pulling his leg. We denied it. He accused us again, etc.

Finally, he decided that he had to see for himself if we were going to be believed and we set back out for the marsh. By the time we got back, waves were lapping at the bottom of the rug. The storm was raging in full force now, water coming down in sheets and lightning, streaking the sky above us. Jimmy blanched just about as pale as the body when he laid eyes on it, motionless in the mud. After a couple of colorful expletives, Jimmy finally sputtered out, we have to call the cops, right? I jumped on that and agreed.

And with our two to one vote, we finally called 911. My dad and I hid in the truck, so I couldn't hear the call that Jimmy made, but apparently it must have gone pretty similar to us trying to convince Jimmy that the situation was real because the cops took their sweet time getting there. 10 minutes passed, then 20, then 30, before finally an officer without his lights on pulls up by our cars. He sat in his vehicle for another five minutes while we waited for him to come out in the rain. After I was well and thoroughly soaked, the officer came out of his vehicle with a sour look on his face. He turned his flashlight on the trees by the side of the road, the beam getting caught in a dense brush.

He approached us at last. I don't see anything. You sure it wasn't just a mannequin? By this point, I'm soaked and cold enough I'm shivering. I couldn't even imagine how the rug guy must feel if he's still alive. My dad must have been thinking the same thing and had a change of heart because he insisted that the officer couldn't see the guy from the road and led him into the swamp, not taking no for an answer.

Sure enough, the officer freezes the second he sees the rug. After a second to load his thoughts, he reaches for his radio and goes, Yep, it's a body. I kid you not, within five minutes, we had seven cop cars, four ambulances, and three fire trucks descend on the scene. They unwrapped the guy from his rug and took a pulse, proclaiming him alive, but unconscious. The team dragged him from the water where he was half submerged and placed him on a stretcher as he was loaded into the ambulance and officer approached us.

He thanked us and explained that he knew the guy in the rug. Apparently, he was a repeat offender and was prone to getting absolutely blackout drunk on brown listerine, the type that had alcohol in it. The officer admitted that this was definitely the weirdest place they had found him, and he may not have survived the storm. To this day, that had to be the weirdest night of my life. I still wonder about that man sometimes, where he wound up after all of that mess. I hope life got better for him and that he sleeps with something warmer than a rugged night.

Thanks for reading this. Keep doing what you're doing. And if either of you need a vet tech job in Connecticut, hit me up. Just that whole scene of that entire story was like, it's thundering, lightning, porn. there's a dead body washing up on shore. Like, that entire scene sounds so scary. But then to finally make the decision to call the police and he's alive is, like, think whatever his story is, whatever, like, repeat offender, whatever,

you definitely save that man's life that night. For sure. He would have, he was knocked out. He would have drowned. Well, and, like, I just, that took a turn. I had no idea that that was even an option. Like, he rolled himself up in a rug. Like, that's usually where, like, how?

bodies are dumped, you know, like rolled up in a rug. I've rolled up in like something. Yeah. Yeah. And now, like, I understand now like it's a way to like keep warm and whatever. But yeah, wow. I mean, thanks to your persistence, literally, you saved his life. Yeah. What a wild story. All right, my next trail tale is titled Half Naked Drunken Hero. Hi, ladies. I love your podcast and we have been listening to it for several months now and it has helped us get through some long eight hour car rides. My fiance and I love trail tales, as it really helps inspire us to get out, whether it's a microadventure or a long planned adventure. I hope you enjoy the story. It still makes us laugh. My family has a cabin in Vermont, and we go up there every year in the summer and some winters when it's not rented.

One winter, the cabin wasn't being rented, so my boyfriend at the time, who is now my fiance, said we should go up for a long weekend. So we planned a ski trip. The day before we went skiing, we decided that we were going to go snowshoeing at a local mountain close to the cabin. The mountain we know now like the back of our hand, but at the time, we didn't know it, and it wasn't as built up as it is today, with signs and trail systems. Also, being from Delaware where there aren't any mountains, let alone big hills, which didn't give us any advantages. The weather in Delaware doesn't change that quickly too often, so of course we did not wear the right clothes or bring any other gear with us.

As we were out, snow-shoeing on the trail near the cabin, it was all going great for the first hour. But all of the sudden, it got really dark, and the falling snow went from small flakes to some of the biggest flakes I have ever seen. I could hardly see my boyfriend a few steps in front of me. We stuck close together, and at first it seemed almost magical to be out in the woods walking around during this. However, about three hours later, it was no longer magical. It was clear that we had no idea where we were going. I would like to preface this and say that I consider myself the outdoorsy type, but I was starting to get tired of trudging through this thick snow with no idea where we were

and no idea where we were headed. I was cold as I was only wearing leggings that were meant for indoor activities and they were soaked. Just before I was going to open my mouth to complain about how cold it was, we heard a noise coming from behind the bushes. A huge burly red-faced man popped out from another connecting trail on cross-country skis. glassy eyes, a huge bushy beard, beer in his hand, and a wide open jacket with his stomach poking out of it. Although he seemed obtuse to the fact that we were standing right directly in front of him, we seized the opportunity and asked him if he knew where the parking lot was,

and he gave us a Craig Lee, you can follow me, but you make a left. Once he skied his way past us, we looked at each other and laughed, almost as a sigh of relief, but also because he made a right turn. We ended up following him a few paces back, following the ski tracks that were being filled with new snow down the mountain. When we finally got back to our car, we looked over to see our half-naked drunken hero was still around, and he did not let us down. He was at his car, he was now chugging a different beer with no shirt on. Again, it had to be negative 10 degrees out. This story makes us laugh every time we think about the time we almost got lost in the woods, but thankfully we were saved by a half-drunken naked hero who had no idea. that he saved us.

I hope the story makes people laugh and also remember to bring the right gear and check the weather. Always get out there, but make sure you watch your back. Cheers from your Delaware listeners. I can just imagine someone just like bursting out of the woodline, like half naked and like, hey, you're a little drunk, like, ugh. What's that? Hello? Hello? Oh my God.

Okay. My last one is titled, Will I ever? go back to Congrey National Park. Great question. I'd love to tell you. Hey ladies, I don't mean to brag, but my husband and I started following the podcast literally the first month you released it. It feels like we're friends, even though we've never met. In 2016, my husband and I, well, okay, hold on, before I say that, that is something to brag about because you have bragging rights, because we know what the first episode sound like, so. So you're a real one. The OG listener.

Bye. In 2016, my husband and I visited Congree National Park. For a little background in true NPAD style, Congri is in South Carolina and lies in an ancient floodplain and has the largest old growth bottomland hardwood forests in the U.S., both the tallest trees in the eastern U.S., and has one of the highest tree canopies in the world. The Congary River floods frequently,

so there is a wooden boardwalk that loops the park, so you don't have to wade through the alligator and venomous snake-infested water. Pretty much, it's a swamp with big trees and sketchy wildlife. Seems accurate. Tyler and I stopped at the visitor center to check the mosquito meter, which was set to severe and asked the rangers about current river conditions before hiking out to our reserved tent spot. Our site was over a mile from the visitor center,

starting on the boardwalk, then veering off onto a dirt trail through the woods. We got our tent set up that morning, explored the rest of the park during the day, then had dinner back at our car near the visitor center while a storm blew over. We double-checked the radar and saw that the weather would be fine overnight. It was already dark as we headed back from the visitor center, but to our surprise, we weren't allowed to use flashlights. The lightning bugs, you may know them as fireflies, were mid-mating season, which means their flashes are all synchronized.

It's one of the coolest things to witness. The forest lights up in a wave of light, then goes dark again. This happens for hours every night for a week or two. So here we are in the dark in the woods with a thousand lightning bugs showing us our trail for 1.7 miles. The first obstacle was a down tree that collapsed a portion of the boardwalk. There were quite a few people around, so we followed them over, under, and through this tree. We walked another half a mile or so and lost the small group of three or four people. We came to a place where the boardwalk splits and I saw something I cannot explain.

About 10 feet ahead, there was a white figure, only four or five feet tall, the size of a child. It had what appeared to be a head, shoulders, and torso, but it didn't have any distinguishing features like a nose, jawline, or arms. We were too far from the last group of people for them to have left their kid alone. I pushed my husband in front as we got closer and had to pass by it. The closer we got, the more nervous I was to look because I knew if that thing turned around, it would be one of those dang black-eyed children or something. As we passed by, this thing didn't turn around, move, or even acknowledge that someone was in three. feet of it. Then I pushed my husband behind me because I was not going to be the one that got got. We made it back to our tent and everything was fine. The next day, we convinced ourselves it was

probably someone in a raincoat watching the fireflies. Okay, but then, in 2021, we went back with our two-year-old. We stopped at the visitor center and asked them if they've ever had someone see ghosts in the park. They didn't have any personal experience, but pulled out a ghost story book and flipped through it. She mentioned there being an angel-like figure spotted, but it wasn't where we were. We headed out to the boardwalk loop and started walking that giant circle. Our little girl was so intrigued by the snakes and different trees. At one point, she stops walking and looks scared. She runs to me with her arms up to hold her. She points and says, oh, mama, that's spooky, y'all. It was the same spot in the boardwalk where we saw that dang ghost thing years prior. I got chills and

walked a little faster. My husband looked back and said, you know where we are, right? I said, said, yep, let's go. We were going to tell the Rangers what had happened since they seemed interested in a little spooky story, but they had already left. And that's the story about how I will never go back to Congre National Park. Yeah, you got hunted for sure. Yeah. Children now. That's scary. I know. I love the best part is she was just like using her husband as a shield like all the way around. Like someone has to be sacrificed. It's not me. I think that also the creepiest part of that is it's not that you saw it because that is creepy, but the fact that it didn't move or like acknowledge you.

Yeah. Because then you're like, okay, that's really creepy. Because no matter what is happening. Hello? That's what everyone says right before they die in horror movies. So they're like, hello? Is someone there? And then like, boomish.

Oh, my goodness. Well, I did say that I had a story called Lions, Tigers, and Emu's Oh, My. And I do. But it's just for Patreon and Apple subscribers. So, uh, you're going to have to just head on over. I guess you're just going to have to join. So, uh, enjoy the view. I still have one.

Oh, my God. Really? You're saying by way too fast. Yeah. You're like, hello? Hello? What about me? Can I, could I go?

Sorry. Sorry, yeah. You're like, all right, and that's it after 20 minutes. Goodbye, everyone. Well, like, okay, well, that's it for me. So I guess so it's done. Okay, sorry, that was fresh. Go on. Mine is titled Ugly Crying on Franconia Ridge.

Hi, ladies. My name is Britt, and I've been binging your podcast for the last few months, and I absolutely love it. Usually on long drives or while doing daily tasks because the ADHD is raging and laundry unfortunately doesn't do itself, I have now caught up, but I've wanted to share the story with you too since it happened. To provide some context, I'm a travel nurse and I was recently assigned to your home state, New Hampshire. I had a shitty week and had wanted to go hiking, so I planned on waking my happy ass up at the butt crack of dawn to make an hour and a half trek to Franconia State Park and attempt the Franconia Ridge Loop. Side note, the White Mountains are stunning and definitely have a special place in my heart. I had so much fun exploring New England. And you're on my favorite trail.

I hadn't done much solo hiking and this was going to be my first winter hiking excursion. So I just told myself I'd be happy to summit the first peak and see how I felt about the rest of the hike because the winds were iffy that day. I was feeling pretty down that morning and as I was listening to my trusty Fave podcast and PAD, Danielle was telling another story about Ian leaving her signs. I immediately thought of my grandfather, who is the reason I love all things outdoors. He and my grandma had a big farm that we all ran around on, and he told me endless stories about his hunting trips and his many excursions, just simply walking in the woods. These stories ranged from saving baby black bears from dumpsters

and almost getting mauled by mama to waking up at the base of a tree after mid-afternoon nap to a curious coyote only a few feet away. He had always told me he would take me to the big wood, or the Adirondacks, but sadly he became very sick and passed in the winter of January 2021. I have since taken his day pack with me on almost all of my day hikes and he's been to the big woods with me in spirit. I always feel like he's there with me at the summit of every mountain I've climbed. Anyways, I immediately thought, why not? I'm going to ask him for a sign. I asked for a blue jay. It was November, so there shouldn't be many out and about. And I figured if I

see one on a book cover or a painting passing through a coffee shop or a store after my hike, I'll know that he was with me. Kind of like the Buzzlight Ear story. It's never the sign you quite expect. Back to the hike. I start off and have an awesome climb up the mountain. I was having a blast figuring out the best way to get access to the frozen streams, passing partially frozen in waterfalls, and seeing how beautiful this trail is in the winter. As I was getting to the summit and started taking in the views, I was just elated with the day and was so excited to see the ridge and stop for lunch. I kid you not. I summits this first peak, excited to see the views from the top, only to look up and meet the eyes of a big gray bird, sitting on a rock, staring directly

back at me. Without even taking the time to confirm if it was a blue jay or not, I immediately burst into tears and ugly cried as I looked for my phone to take a picture. The calming feeling I always had when my grandpa was around came over me and I just knew that I wasn't alone on that trail. The bird flew away after a minute or two, but came right back and hung out with me while I ate some cheese-its and trail mix. It sat on the rock above me, flew around the summit, and came back to sit at my feet and bug me for cheese-its. Just one bird kept me company the entire time I was up there. Even when I moved to spots and wandered on the ridge, it flew around me and would land on rocks ahead of me on the trail. I later googled it and found out it was a gray jay, as I realized it was much bigger than a normal blue jay.

But I still felt it in my soul that my grandpa was with me that day. It was such a beautiful experience and I was so proud of myself for going out solo and experiencing some winter hiking. I like to think that he was proud of me too. I ended up calling it a day on the first peak because of the winds and I realized I had forgotten my lunch and still had a six-mile trek back to the car if I continued. I listened to my gut and decided just to head back down with a full heart and a very content soul. That memory will forever be close to my heart.

Thank you for all the hard work you both put into the pod, and I hope I am able to tag along on a trip with you both. If Gramps decides to surprise me on more trails in the future, I'll definitely be writing in again. Much love, Britt. Oh, look at that. We're on the same wavelength again, signs from birds. Mm-hmm. Or in the form of birds. Yeah.

Yeah, when you were saying your story, I was like, hold on a second. I have one, too. This is crazy. We're really on the same wavelength for this episode. Yeah. Should we go play the lottery? Yeah, for sure. Okay.

We'll report back when we're billionaires tomorrow. Or we won't because by everyone. Just kidding. Because we won't tell anyone. Like, they're poor. Yeah, no one would ever know if I won the lottery. Yeah. There would be someone who knew, but it would be very few.

I have a big mouth. I can't keep secrets. I'm like, I would tell no one except for so many people. And I'd regret it later because people would know and like how into me or something. something, but definitely. Well, getting back to your story, that was beautiful. Yeah, we're really happy that you found your sign and it sounds like a really special experience and just knowing that hike and where you were and what a beautiful, magical place you were in to have that beautiful, magical experience. It's very special. Yeah, that's a special trail to Cassie, especially. Yeah. Okay,

so now it's really time to go? Sure is. Okay. You may end to this section of the episode now. Okay. Well, now I feel weird about it. It's like, are you sure? Let me double check. We do each have one more for all of our outsiders. You can join on Patreon or Apple subscription to join and listen to them.

But that's all we have for regular listening. Great. Well, enjoy the view. But watch you're back. Okay, 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. 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, shop our merch store, sign up for our newsletter and more, visit npADpodcast.com. And if you're enjoying the show, please rate, review, and subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts. You're listening to this podcast, so I know you've got a curious mind. Here's a helpful fact you may not know yet.

Drivers who switch and save with Progressives save over $900 on average. Pop over to progressive.com, answer some questions, and you'll get a quick quote with discounts that are easy to come by. In fact, 99% of their auto customers earn at least one discount. Visit progressive.com and see if you can enjoy a little cash back. Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. National average 12-month savings of $946 by new customers surveyed who saved with Progressive between June 2024 and May 2025. Potential savings will vary.