National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 29

Episode Date: May 11, 2023

Today’s stories include finding ritual sites, trail advice, flash floods, lack of Plan B’s and snail tales. 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!Gerberlife Insurance Co: See website to find out more about applying for life insurance.Thrive Market: Use our link to get 30% off your first order plus a free $60 gift.Apostrophe: Use our link and code NPAD to get your  first visit for only $5. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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

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

That perfect hang on the patio sundress. Those sandals you can wear all day and all night. And you've had enough of shopping from your couch. Done hoping it looks anything like the picture when you tear up on that envelope. It's time for a little in-person spring treat. It's time for a trip to Ross. Work your magic. Hi everyone. Welcome back to National Park After Dark. We have our trail tales this week and we have picked quite a few cool ones.

They just keep coming. I don't know what's been going on, but we get so many each and every day now, which is awesome because it means you guys are having cool experiences on the trails and wanting to share those experiences with us. So we then get to share them with you. That's how it works. Yeah. Do you want to go first or do you want me to go first? I can go first. Okay. Go ahead. All right. My first one. is titled Stumbling on a Ritual Site in the Woods? Question Mark. Hi ladies. I'm Bailey. I live in Eugene Oregon and am a lover of the podcast and all things outdoors. I love that because Eugene is the last place that Ian and I went to on like a long vacation or weekend. We went to celebrate his like birthday there a little late. So we were there like maybe like two or three weeks before he passed.

And we had the best time. We were we were scouting places to like live. I get like to move to I remember that yeah we went to Eugene I don't think I've ever been to Eugene it's kind of like a I mean maybe Bailey will tell us but from my experience it's like a college town vibe and it's really cool and outdoorsy I'm assuming outdoorsy yeah we're like should we move here is this the spot yeah okay go on I want to tell you about something strange that happened in the woods on a hike not far from where I live my girlfriend and I were trying to to do a longer version of our favorite hike, but ended up on the wrong trail. We realized this, but continued anyways, as it was too late to retrace our steps and the sun was setting soon.

Trying to make our own adventure out of it, we wandered down little side trails to see where they led. On one of these trails, not more than 50 feet from the main trail, we walked upon an area of the woods that had been burned. With devastating wildfires in recent years close to the area, it's not uncommon to see burn damage, but this particular area was far. far enough away from any burn scars and was different. In front of us stood the bare remains of a totally burned tree, with about seven feet in diameter of burnt ground surrounding it and the tree at the center. This was strange, but only the tip of the iceberg. We noticed that around the burned area, the ground was disturbed and beaten down. It looked like the earth had been trampled

in a perfect circle around the tree. We joked about this, seeming like it might be some kind of witchy ritual site. I mean, kids do dumb things, but why burn it? tree and trample the earth around it in an area so close to houses. This was strange, but again, not the strangest part. We wandered around the scene intrigued when I noticed something carved into a nearby tree, initials or something. Below it were several large, flat rocks obviously organized by human hands and covering something. Maybe I listened to too many morbid podcasts, but I had to find out what this was. Slowly we removed the rocks to find fabric in a pillowcase with something in it. We grabbed sticks because safety and fumbled with the fabric trying to open it to see inside. It was like

looking at a car crash. I so badly wanted to find out what it was, but I also didn't. I justified my actions by reasoning that it was my duty to make sure it wasn't human remains. Well, thankfully, it wasn't human, but it was a dead rabbit. Disturbed, we quickly put everything back and got the hell out of there. What the fuck was that? No, really, what the fuck was that? My girl. My Girlfriend thinks we disturbed some kids' makeshift grave for their beloved rabbit. But why the fuck was there a giant fire near it? And why was the ground disturbed around it? I've tried to scour the internet for what this could have been, but with no luck.

I would love to hear your theories. Or find out if any listeners happen to dabble in witchcraft and know what the hell this was. I don't have a good ending to this story. Just lots of questions. Much love Bailey. I, my first thought was like Bailey's girlfriend. Like it was just like a kid's grave for their pet bunny. See, I wish that was my first thought.

I was just like remembering like Jeffrey Dahmer and serial killer vibes of hurting animals and doing weird shit to them in the woods. I mean, it could go either way, obviously. I hope it's a weird burial for a beloved rabbit. Yeah, kids do do weird things. Like me, am I being optimistic? A controlled burn. A controlled burn of a giant tree in the middle of the woods.

where fires take out houses and thousands and thousands of acres of land. That's a little odd to me. I don't know. By a child. By a child, that's odd to me. Well, I would be interested if there was like anything else that popped up. Like usually I feel like if it's something like that, like ritualistic or along your line of thinking, there's more. It's not just an isolated incident. Like there's usually more of them. So I don't know. Maybe someone was just like trying to say farewell, like a Viking farewell to their bunny. I hope so. Who knows?

We obviously don't. Yeah. 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 story is titled, Stranger in the Dunes. Hi, first of all, I love the show.

My wife told me I should tell this story before I listened to your Diana the Dunes episode. So here it goes. It all started in the winter of 2019 when I, single, a year out of college and looking for adventure, decided I wanted to spend the summer of 2020 fighting wildfires and Oregon.

I had it all planned out, and I was going to ride my mind. motorcycle from Maryland to Oregon, stopping at every national park on the way. Is this Al? I was like, did Al write this and put in his own? Cassie's partner is like this person, we think. Yeah, this sounds exactly like him minus the Maryland part, but the rest is like, I'm suspicious. My big American road trip. Well, we had plans going into 2020, and we all know how that went. By the time summer rolled around. COVID was in full swing and the world felt a lot bigger and scarier. I had also started dating a woman

who I would marry in 2021. All this had complicated my life, but I felt like I couldn't back down from this trip and this summer. I packed my bags and set off. From Maryland to Ohio, from Ohio to Indiana, and then up to Chicago, I made my way camping and visiting friends. I kept waiting for the stress and fear to fade away into excitement and freedom of the open road, but after three days, it still hadn't and it was overwhelming. In Chicago, I stayed with a friend who encouraged me to go on for the adventure in the story, but I was feeling pretty defeated. I decided that I would give it one more chance and backtrack an hour to Indiana Dunes National Park. I hoped a day in the Dunes would remind me of what I was looking for and

inspire me to push on to see more of this country. That was where I met her. I don't know her name, but walking up the long stairs to the top of the first dune, I passed an old woman who was slowly making the climb. We started talking, and she asked where I was going. I told her I wasn't sure. I yet. She asked, well, west or east. I told her that was exactly what I was trying to figure out. We walked and talked for an hour or so. She told me how she lived by herself nearby but traveled around all year long, hiking and walking and going on adventures. She told me about playing poker on cruise ships and gambling in Vegas, road tripping with her friends, and crossing parks off her bucket list. Is this you? Cassie? Is this you and Al's story? And this is just like a big prank.

secretly submitted this story on our own. Like Danielle will never know. She'll never know. How would she know? I told her about my plans to go west, looking for adventure, balanced against my fears and homesickness. We talked for a while, and something about her made me speak very honestly and openly. She stopped, turned to me and said,

Honey, if someone walked up behind you and touched you, you'd jump clear out of your skin. You should go home. She told me that adventure would be there. but this one wasn't at the right time for me. She asked why I would want to leave happy relationships with family and friends to go and be alone. We walked and talked and talked for a little while longer and finally made our way to the lake shore. I asked where she was going next and she told me she would just walk back and make the loop again and that she'd done it three times already that day.

She went right and I went left to take the shortcut back to the parking lot. I walked about 50 feet down the beach before I turned around to see her go, but she had already disappeared. Now, there were dunes and people and other trails, but I really couldn't tell you where she went. I think about her a lot. I joke that I met a witch that day, or an angel. She dropped into my life at just the right moment and told me what I needed to hear. I headed home from there and I never regretted it. I learned a lot about what kind of adventures I love and about what's important to me. Oh, and what's more? My bike broke down on the way home just as I was scheduled to cross into the deserted section of the Rockies. That's my story, and I'm sticking with it.

I'll get out to the Rocky someday and over to Oregon, and I might even do it on my motorcycle. But now I know it won't be on my own. Thanks for reading Barnabas. You met Diana of the Dunes. Or someone that has a similar, like, I love how he said, like, a witch or an angel. Yeah. You know, like, it reminds me of, what was that? It was a lot.

It was a while ago. But the story of, I think it was in one of the Utah parks of the woman, like the older woman with the grayish hair. that like dropped some wisdom on that girl and then just like disappeared. Was it in arches? I feel remember that. I feel the one with the Raven. Was that the same story? I think it's the same story.

Yeah. Oh, maybe. I don't know. It just reminds me of that. Just like an older, wiser, like sage person that kind of just pops up out of nowhere, disappears into nowhere, but like alters your life and your path in some way. Well, just saying Diana the Dunes was wise and older and walked those dunes. Dunes, and that woman was wise and older, and her plans for the day was to continuously walk the

dunes. So what you're saying is Barnabas got haunted. You got haunted, Barnabas. You probably don't know what that is because it seems like you don't listen to our show and your wife does, but that's okay. But he's listened to it now. He said to write this in before he listened to that episode. So maybe he's heard it now.

You're forgiven. All right. My next story is titled Bag Full of Money. a Vermont treasure mystery. Ooh. Again. Are you an owl writing these? I'll just sat down and like submitted a bunch of trail tales.

Okay, sorry, I'll shut up. Hello, my queens. This must be Al. Again. Let me tell you about the truly most puzzling mystery that ever graced my timeline here on earth. I would love to hear your theories about it. It was a particular cold and gray day in northern Vermont, where I reside, and I was having a particularly sad day at work, frustrated and feeling hopeless

about my financial situation. Q, Money, Money, Money by Abba. Is that a song? I love Abba. Yeah. I'm so out of the loop of what you kids are listening to these days. Okay. Cassie, Abba is a band from like the 70s.

I'm just too young for you kids. And I got to double check. I feel like it's the 70s. You know, it's like, give me, give me a man after midnight. You know that song? No, you don't. But that they, that's probably like the most famous song that I think you would hear. Yeah, the 70s.

Yeah, I was right. Right. Anyway. I did what any chronic self-sabotageer would do and pieced out of work early. Instead of going home right away, I continued on towards Lake Willoughby, which is where I go and I need to feel things. I love Lake Willoughby. Willoughby is a stunning lake that got there by a glacier cutting. a mountain in half and then melting in between the two peaks that it created and it's truly a wonder.

The lake itself is very mysterious and there's a lot of folklore surrounding it. My favorite story is that in the 19th century, a horse and carriage fell into the lake only to resurface in another lake miles away. This is real and you can find the story online. Anywho, in the summer, it is a bustling metropolis, but in the dead of winter, there's scarcely a person to be seen in these parts. I'm driving along the winding road that runs along the edge of the lake, and I quickly realized that it's way too windy and nasty out to actually get out of the car and walk around. So I pulled over on a pull-off that has a pretty waterfall and hopped out of the car to find a good pea spot.

That's when I spotted a trash bag covered in dirt laying in the middle of the pull-off. I sighed to myself and said, ew, but decided to do the right thing and bring it home to discard it. Praying it wasn't something, unfortunately, like a human limb. I started kicking the bag towards my car because it was gross and thinking to myself, wouldn't it be great if there were a bag full of cash? Because my boyfriend actually found $700 on the side of the road once. Who finds $700 on the side of the road?

I haven't even found $1 on the side of the road, let alone $700. That's a lot. Curiosity peaking. I crouched down closer to the bag, enough to see through the opakness of it, and my heart nearly came to a stop and sped up at the same time. It was money. Like a lot of money. I immediately ripped open the bag and saw what was easily over $3,000 of cold hard American cash.

I couldn't fucking believe it. My mind was racing with what to do next. Do I turn it in? Take it for myself and solve literally every debt woe I have in this life? Leave it so that whoever lost it can come back for it. And most importantly, is this drug money that someone is coming to look for? And am I in the wrong place at the wrong time? Suddenly I became frozen with fear that every car that drove past me was the person coming to get the money and saw me.

My license plate and was surely come after me. After 30 minutes of contemplation and disbelief, I took a picture of the money, hid the bag behind a snowbank, and went home to discuss it with my boyfriend as there's no service at the lake. Mind reeling. When I told him about what I'd found and showed him the photo, he freaked out and yelled, you just left it there? We have to go get it. But when I explained my drug money theory,

he also contemplated if it was safe or not. Another 30 minutes of adrenaline-fueled discussion later, he zoomed in on the photo and said with an air of defeat, Sarah, it's not real money. Turns out if I'd had the chops to actually pick up one of the bills and look closely, I would have seen the for motion picture use only, written where, and God we trust is supposed to be written.

surprisingly enough, a wave of relief washed over me as the moral dilemma was a dilemma no more. Though I know now the money was fake, the question remains, who the hell put it there, and why? Was it part of a movie being filmed? Am I on a prank show somewhere and there was hidden cameras watching for my reaction? Why was there a dirty trash bag full of fake money on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and the dead of winter? Nobody knows and I will likely never know, but would love to hear your theories. My boyfriend actually did go back for it and would later scatter the incredibly realistic $100 bills in crowded places as a prank. And sure enough, our local market started reporting multiple people trying to buy things with fake money.

And one of the bills is on display as a warning to anyone who tries to use one there. I'm now at a better job, but I'm still broke, which is why I'm emailing y'all on the clock to get some overtime, instead of leaving early and being massively let down by another chance encounter with a bag full of false hope, L-O-L-L. Love you, mean it, Sasha. Oh, my God. Just creating problems. Like, well, this didn't work out for me. I'm going to start some drama.

I'm going to stir some shit up. My theory, of course, I don't know, but based off of like what she was mentioning, my first thing would be like a prank or like someone's, wait, do you remember that show? I think it's impractical jokers or something like that. I love impractical jokers. Like, I feel like it's some shit like that. just like a cruel like see what they're going to do yeah what are they going to do next type of thing because for it to just kind of be discarded there or like to not have any eyes on it I don't know I just

feel like somebody was setting someone up to see what they would do like a what would you do in this situation yeah but like was there any cameras or anything I don't know kind of what I lean towards is maybe like it's prop it's prop money because it's a cinema use only like maybe someone was making their own film and went on Amazon and ordered a bunch of cash. You know, there's a lot of... And just left it, forgot it there. There's a lot of people who just make movies for fun on the side and they're not like big time film people or anything. It's just a hobby.

Yeah, like I feel like Northern Vermont would know if there was a big Hollywood movie being produced. And Lake Willoughby is in the middle of nowhere. Al and I have gone up there a couple times. It's beautiful. It's beautiful. But it's not near... things. It's definitely a camping. There's no reception out there. It's just beautiful, like, quiet hiking, nice place to be. So I don't know. Like maybe, I feel like you could go either way.

It could be a joke that someone was trying to play or maybe someone was had a very low budget film that we're making and then decided to litter. Right. Yeah. And you just got caught in the crosshairs of a moral dilemma. And decided to start some drama with the entire town instead. She did say I think that was her boyfriend, right? Yeah. Well, either way. Guilty by association. It's funny.

I just love that it became like a thing. Yeah, it's like, please stop using this. Everybody residents. This counterfeit money. People are in jail and she's like, oops. Whoopsy. My next story is titled Stranded on a Jet Ski being pulled towards a bug infested bone crushing whirlpool.

Oof. Sounds. I don't like any of those things except for the jet ski part. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. I began listening to NPAD several months ago and I promised myself I was going to wait until I caught up before sending in my tail. Well, I've made it at last and I'm here to share an epic adventure that happened to me and my family in 2016 at Lake Powell. For a quick background, this lake is located in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. It's mostly in southern Utah and a bit in northern Arizona. Four rivers, including the Mighty Colorado, all flow into this 185 mile-long reservoir, and it has,

has gorgeous red canyons towering over 100 feet high in many areas. I've wanted to share the story since I listened to your Liquid Avalanche episode, as it reminded me of my closest encounter with death. But unlike the man in that tale who wasn't a bit afraid of death, I was utterly terrified. It was not my first time at Lake Powell. My dad loved packing up his station wagon and taking my family there nearly every summer since I was 10. This time, I was 18.

When my family went on vacation, tranquility was not in our vocabulary. We would show up to the lake, having driven 10 hours from Denver, and take our kayaks, canoe, cooler, tent, and our dog, and set out for a long weekend. Camping at Lake Powell is not simple. Due to the sheer cliffs for miles on end, there's no shore to just stop at and rest. So our goal was to kayak to the very end of one of the many offshoots of this giant lake and find a small beach among the rock crevasses. We would paddle for hours on end in the baking sun with nowhere to stop for long stretches, only sheer cliffs to one. side and open water on the other. I saw people in speedboats blasting music, families and houseboats tanning, and kids riding behind their parents jet skis and tubes. One was even in the shape of a giant

banana. They were all having the time of their lives, not noticing for a second that their motorized boats were causing such big waves that our little river kayaks would nearly topple over. My dad agreed that this year we would take two rental jet skis with us to make the trip a little easier. We took turns using the jet skis, but the canoe was heavy with our gear and of course our dog, Almira. So we weren't any faster. But I was enjoying the challenge, breathing the fresh air, and paddling swiftly, watching Almira's ears flap in the breeze as she panted in the 95-degree heat. After about four hours of kayaking in the open water, we reached the inlet, at the end of which we were going to camp. I was just about to remark on what great timing we were making when my dad

yelled out from the jet ski behind me. Damn it, he yelled in his heavy Hungarian accent and I heard the engine sputter to a stop. What's wrong? I called. Concerned because my dad doesn't worry easily. Apparently, something got caught in the engine and there was no sure for us to comfortably stop. I rolled my eyes thinking how the one time we would bring something nice, it ends up backfiring. No matter, my dad is a fixer. I never worry as long as he's around. My stepmom waited in the canoe while I hopped out, and by treading water, I helped stabilize the jet ski which my dad flipped upside down. Almira also joined me in the cool water for a swim, her claws scratching at me as she licked my face. What felt like a half an hour later, my dad exclaimed, aha, he pulled out a tiny little twig,

showing me the culprit of the whole ordeal. I couldn't help but laugh. It had to be a joke, but it wasn't, because a couple hours later, we were significantly deeper into the canyon and the same thing happened again, and then again. By now, my arms were aching, and my legs were craving solid ground. The third time the motor stalled, a family in an acreed houseboat kindly asked if we needed help. My dad grinned, thanking them, and saying he's got it. I couldn't help but look longingly at the kids running atop the top of the deck of the houseboat carefree. Meanwhile, my stepbrother sprinted ahead with the other jet ski to scout. He came back with a huge smile on his face. Land, ahoy, he shouted. The sun was becoming low in the sky.

and I couldn't have been happier to hear the good news. I was profusely sweating by the time I made it to this thin strip of shore, partly from the heat, partly from the paddling, so hard with excitement that finally making it. And as if on cue, I felt droplets starting to fall from the sky. I was surprised because I didn't see a single cloud, although my view of the sky was limited due to the dramatic canyon. I took in the view of our campsite,

sandy beach with spiky brush, small plants hanging from the cliff sides, And now the rain casting a magical rainbow right into the deep canyon. Almira was happily zooming around, sniffing every bush, splashing droplets of rainwater as she wagged her tail. The rain started to trickle down the canyon walls like little streams cascading all around us. It was truly breathtaking, and I finally felt cool. I was in this bliss for only a moment before the rain started to come down hard. We decided it was no use to put the tent up until the rain died down.

The sun slowly descended behind the walls, and it was becoming darker. but the rain didn't stop. It just got worse and worse. There was nowhere to go. The once mesmerizing trickle streams had turned into roaring waterfalls, and the tranquil water on which I paddle just minutes ago was now a raging river, filled with not just small twigs, but entire branches, cacti, trash, and all other kinds of debris. Suddenly, the shore was becoming smaller. We kept moving to higher ground. One of the jet skis got loose, and within seconds, my dad and I hopped on the other jet ski to go after it, not daring to turn on the engine due to the ever-growing debris we took to a paddle. My dad yelled back to my brothers and my stepmom to make sure that they got to the highest point possible and to keep the dog close by. It dawned on me that

this was a flash flood and that we were in the middle of a narrow canyon in the middle of a desert, a canyon that was filling up with not just water, but with branches, logs, even entire tree trunks that had been swept up by the storm from who knows how many miles away. At this point, my dad and I couldn't even see the top of the water. It was just a layer of floating branches, dried vegetation, and even bugs. It was like I was in the middle of a giant stew and I felt extremely small. I might as well have been one of those beetles, trying to scurry to the top of a log and stay afloat. We were about 15 feet from the second jet ski, but there was no way to paddle to it through the thick debris, and all the while we were being swept further and further away from the rest

of my family. Suddenly, I noticed the first jet ski seemed to be coming back towards us. What a miracle I thought. But a split second later, I realized the only reason the water was powerful enough to go against the current was because it was a massive whirlpool. Oh my God. This is terrifying. This is so scary. I saw right into the middle of it where branches were being sucked down and into the abyss. The sharp crackling sounds echoed through the canyon as the wood splintered. I tried not to panic as I felt our jet ski being pulled closer and closer to the whirlpool. But with my dad by my side, I knew he'd have a plan. He told me to grab a branch and you. He told me to grab a branch and you. use it to push against the debris, away from the gurgling whirlpool and closer to the canyon wall. I was forcifully pushing while trying to get balance on the jet ski, terrified of falling in. All the while, my dad was explaining what to do in the event of being pulled down by the whirlpool. Back in Hungary, I swam among the whirlpools in Danube. Whenever I had triathlon training, he said, all you have to do is hold your breath and remain

calm. The whirlpool will take you down and eventually spit you back out. Just whatever you do, don't panic. most circumstances, I'm a strong swimmer without any fear of water. But a deep canyon in the middle of a desert during a flash flood, while stranded on a jet ski, being pulled towards a bug-infested bone-crushing whirlpool is not one of those circumstances. As we kept pushing, making painstaking progress towards the wall, I saw the other jet ski go all the way around the edge of the giant whirlpool and start coming back towards us. Thinking back, I wish I would have just

forgotten about the jet ski and spent all our efforts getting to a safer place. But in the moment, the jet ski mission was priority number one. Maybe it was the adrenaline that somehow allowed me to reach out and grab onto the jet ski just in time. My dad was holding me with one hand and pushing us away from the whirlpool with the other. I was reaching as far as my arm's stretch, trying to pull the second jet ski close enough for me to step onto it. It was in this precarious position that I felt a branch scrape my side and get stuck in my shirt. So my legs were still in the first jet ski, my hands were gripping the second, and now my torso was being pulled in a third direction by a floating tree.

I let out a scream as I lost my balance and fell headfirst into the debris covered water. I was being scratched left and right by the branches. I gasped for air and I felt myself being dragged under. As if from far away, I heard my dad yell to take off my shirt. I thought of the massive whirlpool sucking me down and the logs crushing me, but the thoughts of the bugs scurring around my face is what got my survival instincts to kick in. I tore off my shirt, pushed myself against the branches. The debris was far too thick to call it swimming, and I finally latched onto the edge of the jet ski.

I pulled myself up, shaking off the feeling of creepy crawlies, before realizing I was now in the second jet ski, separated from my dad. Thinking fast, he threw me a rope. I quickly tied it, and without saying a word, we pushed, pulled and paddled away from the whirlpool. When we finally felt safe enough to let the current take us, we looked at each other. My dad let out a nervous laugh. I could tell that he did not like how out of control that situation had become. I finally took a moment to get my bearings, realizing it was not raining anymore. I was relieved, thinking about my family and dog at the back of the canyon.

We had come a far way down, and all of it happened so fast. The family on the houseboat that I saw what felt like ages ago was now waving and yelling, asking if we were okay. My dad said we were fine, but that he was worried about my family. If it began to rain again, we would have no way of helping them from here. The houseboat family, who turned out to be a very large, very kind Mormon family, helped us anchor the jet skis and offered us food, a blanket, and even a bed. Despite the comfort, I was nervous.

I felt my heart in my throat as I looked at my dad and the Mormons devising a plan. It wasn't completely dark yet, so my dad and a couple of men quickly began to paddle in kayaks upstream, close to the edge of the canyon, where the current and debris were less severe. Meanwhile, someone was trying to use the emergency radio to get a hold of the park service, and a group of kids were using their fancy drone to fly it into the canyon and try to get a visual of my family. Unfortunately, the men were not having much luck against the current. Absolutely, no one was answering the radio because we were too far into the canyon and the signal was not being transmitted in or out. And even the drone was given up on because it became too dark and the range was not long enough.

My dad did not listen to the men advising against going upstream in a kayak in the dark. My dad saw no other choice. He had to get to the rest of my family. come rain, darkness, whirlpools, or whatever else. And so he went with nothing but a headlamp and the clothes on his back. Here I was, finally safe on this houseboat, but completely restless. I had no way of communicating with my family, and my dad's presence was always what helped keep me calm.

The only thing bringing me any solace was the lack of rain. But the dark sky above still look cloudy, and the distant claps of thunder kept me uneasy. Seeing my worry, the Mormon mom tried soothing me by saying nice things, like, we're doing everything we can, and it will be all right. I didn't believe a word she said, but I did scarf down the peach cobbler she offered me. I hadn't realized how hungry I had become. After tossing and turning for hours, I sat up straight, hearing the pitter, patter of rain on the boat deck.

I remember silently crying, having no clue if my dad made it, or if he was still in the flimsy kayak. No matter where he was, the rain was a bad omen. I wanted to scream out, hoping he would respond, but I knew my voice couldn't carry over the crunching and snapping of the water against wood. A light rain fell on and off throughout the night. Sunrise came and went and still no news. I almost wanted to be back on that jet ski, evading the whirlpool. At least I was doing something then, because now all I could do was wait.

At long last, I heard a familiar yell. It was my dad shouting in Hungarian, exclaiming his arrival. I looked eagerly and saw him turn the bend in the kayak, miraculously followed by my whole family in the canoe. Almyra let out an excited yelp and she heard me yell back. We finally reunited. My dad recounted his middle of the night adventure, explaining how he was unable to get to my family in the dark, but he got close enough that they were able to hear each other. My stepmom and brothers slept in a little half cave, which covered them from the rain, but my dad hardly slept a wink as he was drenched throughout the night. Once it was light enough, they worked together to make their way out of the cursed canyon.

We ended up paddling the heck out of there and camping the next night on a safe peninsula in the middle of the lake, not surrounded by walls. We left two days earlier than planned, a bit traumatized by the entire ordeal. Thanks to that Mormon family, wherever you all are, I hope you hear this and know how grateful I am for that peach cobbler. I don't have any pictures in the canyon because my phone was in a waterproof bag in the canoe, but I do have some picks of Almira enjoying the sun once we were all safely on land and a video of me cliff jumping. Also lost my watch during that jump, L.O.L.

Anyway, thank you all for creating the most binge-worthy podcast. You guys are incredible. Don't forget to enjoy the view, but watch out for giant whirlpools. That is so scary. I don't have pictures. Sorry. It's like, you're forgiven. Like, you almost died.

You're alive. Thank you. That is probably one of the scariest stories I think we've ever had written in. Yeah. I mean, flash floods are so terrifying and to be separated from your family and to just not. In a whirlpool. In the center of a whirlpool being dragged down into. it. Yeah. And all the debris and stuff, like that I think is the scariest thing, or one of, amongst

one of the scariest things about that whole thing is like, you never know what debris is in there and what damage it can cause. You get hit in the head, even if you don't drown. Yeah. Well, and then her dad's just saying, oh, just be calm. It'll spit you back out as they're being dragged into this whirlpool. It's like, easier said than done. Yes, definitely. My next story is titled The Time I Got Kicked Out of a National Park. Hello, Cassie and Danielle. I only recently started listening to NPAD.

In fact, my first episode was Dirt Bags of Dope Lake. Needless to say, I have been hooked ever since. With each episode, I find myself hanging on every word, whilst I mutaneously reminiscing on all of my own past hikes and experiences. I have been thinking of which of my many adventures to share with you, but I think the perfect story to tell is about the time my friends and I got kicked out of Smoky Mountain National Park. So let me begin. During my freshman year of college, me, my roommate, and two of our closest friends decided for our first college spring break,

we would road trip from our small environmental school in central New York to the Smoky Mountain National Forest in Tennessee, where we would camp and hike for a few days before heading to Athens, Georgia to stay with my roommate's grandparents. I was 19 and I never really had been on a long road trip like this without my parents. And honestly, I wasn't a very experienced camper. But nevertheless, I was so excited and optimistic. One of my friends spent most of her summers in Long Island and another grew up as a Boy Scout. I was in good hands, right? I had been obsessively researching trails hoping to find the perfect one that would satisfy everyone's

nature fix. Not too long, not too steep. Maybe a waterfall along the way to breathtaking views from the top. I was overwhelmed by the options, but truthfully, I was way more excited about hiking than camping. I had only looked at a few campsites compared to the dozens of trails I researched. When I would ask my friends if we should pick a campsite, they would say things like, do we really need to do this right now? The trip is so far away, we have plenty of time to work out the details.

We'll just book a random campsite before we go. It's fine. But it was March, aka, quote unquote, the off season. All of the campsites in the park were on a first-come, first-served basis. This made me a little worried, but I jotted down one or two campsite locations thinking to myself, how many other people are camping in the Smokies this time of year. But as we got closer and closer to our departure, I realized we still didn't really have any sort of plan.

We were just winging it. The quote-unquote plan we did have was to drive my roommate's 98 Jeep Jerioki from our campus in central New York to my parents' house in western New York, down to Maryland, where we would gather a camping gear from my scout's friend's house and then head straight to the mountains. Obviously, anyone with an old Jeep would tell you this was not our best idea, but my roommate insisted that her car would make the journey. She had recently taken it to a mechanic to get something or other fixed, and the mechanic guaranteed her that the Jeep would make it through the entirety of the trip. When we arrived to my friend's house in Maryland, his parents helped

pack up all the essentials we would need for our camping trip. But his parents were a little hesitant about the Jeep. They offered to let us take their car, and we could make the swap on our way back up. But once again, my roommate insisted that we were taking her Jeep. The next morning, we set off on the seven and a half hour drive to our destination. The only campsite I had saved on my phone. We sang and laughed and watched the landscape change as we got closer and closer to the forests. We were so excited to explore.

We had all taken turns driving, but when it was my turn to drive, I noticed that something wasn't right. Whenever I would get up to the speed limit, the Jeep would make weird noise. Something was wrong and none of us knew what to do. We stopped at a Walmart somewhere in Virginia to buy a tire iron to check to make sure the wheels were okay. Anyone reading this who knows anything about cars will realize how silly this is and that we truly had no idea what we were doing. This was only one of a few stops we would continue to make to assess the vehicle and make sure we were going to make it. But what were we going to do? We were only a few hours away from the park.

We couldn't turn back now. I would also like to state that this entire time I did have AAA, but they refused to let me call for help. Like, it's fine. It's fine. We were almost there, only 25 minutes from the campsite we had told the GPS to take us to when the Jeep started smoking. We pulled over in a USPS parking lot while my roommate called her dad in panic. There was nothing that he could do, hundreds of miles away in New York. Why hadn't we just taken a different car? Why wouldn't my friends let me call AAA? After a minor meltdown, my roommate stopped crying. and we got back in the car. Since we made so many unplanned stops, we didn't get to the park until about 5.30.

We were running out of daylight, and we needed to set up camp for the night, but when we finally arrived to the campsite, it was full. We didn't really have a plan B. This was the only campsite I had written down from my quote-unquote research. No one else had any idea where to go.

So we got back in the Jeep and kept driving. Eventually, we found another campsite, no vacancy. Now we were really running out of daylight, and all of our food needed to be cooked over a five. We kept driving and eventually found another campsite that once again said no vacancy, but we were desperate. As we circled the parking lot in the dark, we noticed a whole row of campsites that appeared to be available. They were just on the other side of a row of traffic cones. Doesn't that usually mean,

like, do not? Like, not open? Like, you cannot go here. It's like, oh, you just, actually, you just pick up the traffic cone and move it, and then you may proceed. You just, like, step over the cones or remove them and then put them back. No one will know. We moved one of the cones and drove down the path and finally claimed a home for the night. While two of us set up our tent and sleeping bags, me and my friends went to fill our water bottles.

Did I mention we didn't have any water either? When we returned, the tent was set up and it was time to settle in. We were just about to start our campfire when we saw headlights coming our way. It was a park ranger coming to inform us that we cannot stay here. The area we decided to camp in

was going to be under construction first thing in the morning, and if we didn't leave the campground in 30 minutes, we would be fined. We had gotten ourselves kicked out of Smoky Mountain National Park. But this isn't where the trail tail ends. We got back in the Jeep and kept driving. The roads were dark and desolate, and we were getting scared and very hungry. We drove in silence until we were out of the national park. Maybe we could find a motel, although that didn't seem promising either. Finally, after what felt like the longest day of my life, we found a K-O-A. The office was closed, but we found an open spot anyways and unloaded our tent. By the time we got our camp set up, it was pretty late, tensions were high, and we were starving.

We ended the night eating vegan sausages and undercooked potatoes and crawled into our tent, not entirely sure where we would be waking up. The next morning, we woke up in a very expensive campsite. When I walked to the visitor center to pay for our previous and following night, I was a little caught off guard to find out that it would be over $150, a little much for some college kids on a budget spring break. But there was still a problem. We needed to take the car to the mechanic,

otherwise we were going to be stuck there. I stayed back with my scout friend while my roommate and other friend left to find the mechanic. All of our phones were dead, and at the time we didn't know that this campsite had electricity, so we told our friends to take our cell phones and chargers to see if they could charge them at the mechanic shop. It made me really nervous for my friends to drive aimlessly through the mountains without any way to contact them. I told them to be careful and if they got a weird vibe from anyone to come back. One of them scoffed at me saying, People are really friendly in the South.

That's ridiculous. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Before they left, I grabbed the cooler in my hiking boots out of the car. At least we could have lunch ready for them when they got back and we could finally do what we came here to do. Hike the Great Smoky Mountains. Luckily, our campsite was right on the edge of the Roaring Creek. I spent the morning basking in the sun on a large flat rock while my friends stoke the fire. We were content. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty that we were actually enjoying ourselves while they were there stuck at a mechanic all day. When they finally returned, they didn't have

the Jeep. They had been dropped off by a taxi. They told us that the Jeep would have to stay there for the day and they could only fix it enough so that we could get to Athens, where we would need to find a better mechanic. This was when I realized that all of our clothes and supplies, minus the cooler of food, was left in the car. Why hadn't they thought to grab our bags out before they left all of our belongings at a random mechanic in the middle of the forest? I was furious, but since we all had a long journey up to this point, I didn't say anything. We just waited. We waited for a few more hours and they got the call that the Jeep was ready to be picked up. They called the same taxi driver that dropped them off and went to get the Jeep. It was finally time to hike.

Finally time to set forth on a journey to the summit to make the entire journey worth every twist and turn and bump in the road that we had endured over the last two days. We decided to go down the first trail we saw, never mind any of the trails we had researched before the trip. But midway through a hike, we realized we would never make it to the top before sunset. If we didn't turn back a mile from the top, we would put ourselves in another stupid and unprepared situation. I was crushed. When we got back to the camp, we enjoyed our stay for the first time. All of us together, a warm meal and cold drinks. It was turning out to be a fun trip after all.

The next morning we packed up our things and headed to Athens where we had a house in bed to stay in. Things were looking up and we decided that one day we would come back and finish our hike. Once my phone had been charged, I texted my mom letting her know that everything was going well and she had nothing to worry about. I waited until I was safely back at school to tell her the full story of what really happened. I can relate to that. So hard.

I've done that before. Like, everything's great. No worries. Oh, by the way, I almost died. I will admit, I am a little embarrassed to tell the story. Anyone who has ever gone camping or even on a road trip can see that we were inexperienced and unprepared. With each episode of NPAD, I think about how lucky I am that nothing bad happened to us on that trip. So many times things could have gone from bad to worse. Although it's been seven years since this spring break smoky mountain adventure, I am now realizing how dangerous the wilderness can be. I am so thankful that the worst.

part of our trip was that we didn't get to hike to the top of whatever mountain we were trying to summit. Turning back was probably our only good decision. To anyone who may be listening, who is young and inexperienced and wants to go on a fun camping trip with your friends, please be prepared. Have a plan and a backup plan. Thank you, Danielle and Cassie, for teaching me this lesson many years later through all the stories that ended much worse than mine did. Looking forward to the next episode, Lena. We've all been there, Lena. Yeah, I sure have. My first road trip that I ever took was in college with my friends. And we took my 1993 Toyota Camry. And I did the same thing. Well, I went with my friends and we were supposed to take my other friends reliable car. And it was a VW Passat.

It was newer than mine. And it ran better. And I went to her house. We had all our bags packed ready to go. And I went to her house and we're like, where's your car? And we walk into her garage and her dad had taken all the the wheels off and was doing maintenance on her car. And she was like, wait, we're going on a road trip today. Like, we're driving to North Carolina. And he was like, oh, I didn't realize you were serious about that. I didn't think you were actually going. Yeah. I feel like he was just like, I don't want you to road trip all the way to North Carolina. I'm going to take all the wheels off your car. But he didn't say that. And so we were like, well, I have my car. It's not very reliable, but I'll bring it to the mechanic real quick. So I went to the mechanic. He was like, yeah, your tires are pretty bald. You're

probably going to need some new ones before your trip is over. But you can go for it if you want. And we did. We loaded up my car and it made it. It made it just fine. But I did have to spend a day in North Carolina putting new tires on my car because it was so dangerous. Oh my God. And my power steering was going. So periodically I had to put new power steering fluid in so I could turn the wheels. But besides that, everything was great. Besides that, it was a great, great adventure. Very good. I had one, and I'm pretty sure I already told my mom this, so she's not finding out right now. Hey, mom. Hey, and my memory's kind of fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure this was senior year of high school.

And so my cousin, Molly, is like my best friend. We grew up together. We're only six months apart. Like, when my parents got divorced, I would spend, like, I lived with her and her, like, my aunt and stuff for a while. and we just grew up really close and have been into adulthood. And we would continue the tradition of like seeing each other over the summers by like spending some time. I would go to Duxbury and she would come up to Merrimack and whatever. So one summer, I'm pretty sure it was my senior year. We or junior going into senior, we had this like trip planned to go to Hampton Beach. So fun.

It's like the Jersey Shore of New Hampshire in case anyone is on here. And I had my like very first car. It was like a 92-93 Mazda. It was like my great-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc. We, like, we, like, we packed a bunch of stuff. We get to Hampton Beach. And I don't know exactly what happened because I wasn't in charge of the whole, like, housing situation. But something happened, and we did not have anywhere to stay. And it was, like, peak season at Hampton Beach, we're high schoolers. We can't afford any other alternative. We just had nowhere to stay.

were so upset because we basically had like free rain for a week. Like we didn't want to just go home. Yeah. Like stay at my parents' house. So we're like, what can we do? Like, what can we do? All our families think that like we're in this house in Hampton. Like, what can we do? So we decided we went to Walmart. We got an eight person tent and a bunch of supplies and went from party to party house to house in Merrimack for a whole week. And we were so nervous that like my my parents are like in that town like they could see you driving by yeah it's like I remember them being like how is it I'm like it's so fun like you know and then to see me laying on the beach to the way by beach I mean drunk in someone's backyard in a tent and so we I remember like Molly would always be

on the scan like on the lookout for like my family's cars or like whatever what do you even do in that situation, just like, duck while you're driving? Duck. Or like, I don't know. I really have no idea. But so anyway, so we like go throughout the week and we come back to my house. And like, I remember my stepdad being like, oh, you're like, you got such a good tan. And we're like, yeah.

Yeah. Totally. It was so fun. And we didn't have any like story lined up. Like we had none of our facts straight. And I think they were really suspicious because like we didn't talk about it. like literally at all. We're just like, oh yeah, I was fine. Bye. And I'm pretty sure Molly told her mom because I think she just eventually like came out with it. Yeah. And I'm sure my aunt told my mom,

but like I never admitted to it like literally until like I was like in like well into college. Like I was so nervous. By the way, I did this thing. I did this. But that was our backup plan. And it ended up being super fun and worked out, even though it could have been disastrous. For sure. Like that smoky mount. I feel like everyone has a story that's like kind of similar to this one in some way, shape, or form. Yeah. When all of a sudden done, like I really did make such a bigger deal out of that.

We could have just gone back to my house. It's not like we would have been on lockdown. It's not like they would have been like, oh, well, like you're not going to Hampton to your stay-home parties and slept in your bed. Yeah, it was just like so bizarre. Teenage brains. Okay, my last story. I don't exactly know how to pronounce the title. Scared shitless in Monongaleha National Forest.

Hi, Danielle and Cassie. I've been listening to your podcast for two years ever since I finally got with the Times and got a Spotify account. I worked in a laboratory for a long time and your podcast helped me drown out the white noise of the incubators and pass the time of the repetitive experiments. so thank you. Thank you for the great content and banter of the show. You all certainly make me smile and one day I hope to join one of your trips. Your stories have helped me add things to my list and it is getting just as long as yours. It would be an honor if you read my story on Trail Tales. You can totally

use my name. I hope this keeps you on the edge of your seat. Enjoy. One year during summer vacation in college, my boyfriend and I planned a backpacking trip to Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia. He has always been into the outdoors and backpacking, and I had a recent developing interest in national parks, so I was gung-ho to get out and explore our national forest nearby. I would consider myself an outdoorsy light, like a storyteller described in a previous trail-tale story. Although I found it all interesting, I was green to it all. I grew up in the suburbs of Annapolis, Maryland, and had only been camping at well-populated loop campgrounds in my early childhood. My partner was very understanding and planned a trip that we would both enjoy and offer me a taste of

wild nature. Long story short, we had a wonderful time exploring West Virginia. We went on hikes, horseback rides, and scenic drives. On the third night, we found a pull-in car camping site in Cannon Valley. The campgrounds are single, pull-off spots from a sparsely traveled ridge road. Although there were multiple campsites along this road, they were miles apart. The space we chose had a large, heavily used fire pits surrounded by tall, mature pine trees. That evening, we worked to get our campsite in order while it was still light outside. We unpacked the car of camping essentials, set up the tent, and decided to give it a go at resurrecting the overuse fire pit. It was filled with ash and wouldn't be usable unless we gave it some major TLC.

As we were trying to dig out the fire pit, we found a motion sensing light in the ring, an odd find. It still worked, so my partner placed it on the ground just outside of our tent just for giggles. After some fruitless digging, we decided to forego a fire that night, as the fire pit was in need of repair that we did not have time for that night. For dinner that night was an MRE, which I learned, I did not. like. But don't worry, I did like the M&Ms from the MRE. I don't think you're supposed to like MREs. They're just supposed to keep you alive. Right. As the sun went down, the city gal and me became a bit more

uneasy, especially in the stillness of the alpine forest. Every other site we were at on previous nights had people or a nice stream for background noise. As the night settled in and we had no fire, we were trying to fill the time before bedtime. To me, it was so silent. The ridgeline campsite had no wind that night and no streams for nearby white noise. It was just eerily quiet. My partner could sense my anxiety and decided we should watch a movie on his laptop to get my mind off my nerves. It was my first time so isolated and the silence of the Alpine Forest had my ears on high alert. Every little sound made me sweat. About halfway through the movie, the night had completely come. We were laying in our sleeping bags when the motion sensing light that we had found

in the fire pit and jokingly placed at the door of our tent flickered on. Then it flicked off. I said, we were completely alone, no other campers nearby. No noises came from outside. This super freaked me out. My eyes wide, I looked at him in fear in a fearful silence for a few seconds. What was that? I managed to softly squeak out. My partner, the cool, calm, and collected man that he is, said, don't worry. It's probably a bird or a leaf or maybe even a passing deer. We are fine. I chose to trust him. I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and tried to put my fear away. I focused on the movie again and tried not to sweat. I relaxed. a little bit as I get back into the movie, but not 15 minutes later, it flicks on again.

We power through this one too. 15 minutes more go by, and the light flicks on for a third time. Now that was my final straw. I can't hold back my panic anymore. What if it's a bear or a murderer or a force ghost? In the calmest voice I can muster in that moment, which is not calm at all, I evenly beg, please go outside and see what's out there before I have a heart attack in here. My partner laughs, grabs a flashlight, and exits the tent.

I hear his footsteps crunched softly on the pine and twig forest floor outside while I sit alone in the tent. So scared, I don't even want to look outside. For about a minute, he is silent and all I can hear is him slowly walking back to the site. I call out, do you see anything? And he says, no, nothing. I hear his footsteps come back towards the entrance of the tent. He bends down to take off his shoes at the tent entrance, pauses for a second, and starts laughing. At this point, I am so confused and still on the verge of a panic meltdown over what could have been

activating the motion sensing light. What is it? I practically squeal. He grabs the motion sensing light and with a smile in his voice tells me to stick my head out of the tent so he can show me something. When I stick my head out, I see he is holding the motion sensing light and he turns the face of it around towards me. I see something small and dark on the surface of the light. I look back at him and he says, you might have to get a little closer. I squint as the light is activated and all I can see is an inch long leaf-shaped shadow on the light. As I adjust the light source and get a little closer, I see a snail. There was a snail, yes, a snail on the sensor of the light. Every time the snail moved, it activated the light sensor. And since the snail moved so slowly, it activated the light

every 15 minutes. I looked at him with the biggest grin on his face and I started smiling too. This was just unreal. I was losing my shit to a snail. We started laughing at each other and the whole situation. After the giggles were out, he placed the light bulb side down so that when the snail set it off again, we wouldn't see it. He got back into the tent, we finished the movie, and snuggled up to go to sleep. Ah, you thought the story was over? But my night of terror was not over yet. Oh, no. Another snail. I knew that their snail. We were at the stage of sleep where one is not quite awake, but not quite asleep. I am having trouble falling completely asleep because of the extreme silence of the night. But that is soon to be disrupted. As we lay dozing, a sound ripped through the

night. The sound of a large tree cracking and twisting apart and falling seemed to be coming from just above us. My eyes fly open, my body tenses up, and I almost scream. Adrenaline courses through my body as I prepare to be squished by a tree. My partner also awakens for this as the sound abates and we were not squished. He matter-of-factly says, wow, that sounds like it was nearby, which, if I wasn't so scared already, would have been very funny. After the fact, he said he could literally smell my fear. Sounds so relaxing, you know. What a nice trip. We cuddle closer and he does his best to soothe me to sleep, but the damage from the snail and the tree had been done. It would be a fitful night's rest for me, afraid of whatever waited for me,

outside the flimsy walls of the tent. Funnily enough, the morning after, we could not find this tree that had fallen. We looked everywhere within a 500-foot radius of our campsite and could not find any fresh fall. So I guess we have the answer to the question, if a tree falls in the forest, Does it make a sound? The answer is yes, but you might not see the tree. Thanks for reading. I hope the plot twist got you. I really hope this makes it on the pod, Olivia.

Thanks, Olivia. That was really funny. I love the stories where people are terrified and you're like, and it was a chicken. And it was a chicken. Was it a serial killer? Is it a bear about to kill me? It's like, it was my partner snoring.

Right. Yeah. They're just so funny. Well, and I just feel for her because the terror of, Or the nights that are so long because you are so afraid, you never realize how long a night is unless you're afraid and can't fall asleep. Those are so bad. So bad.

But you made it. You made it. You lived to tell the tale. Of the snail. The snail tail. The snail tail. The snail tails. A new segment coming in 2024.

All right. Let's get out of here. Yeah, that's the last of our trail tales. We do have two more. if you're on Apple subscriptions or our Patreon, you can listen there. But that's it for everyone here. So in the meantime, enjoy the view. But watch you back.

Bye. Bye. Thank you so much for joining us again this week. If you have a trail tale or story suggestion, send us an email at Stories at NPADpodcast.com. Follow us on Instagram and Facebook at National Park After Dark and on Twitter at NPAD podcast. Join our outsiders-only community on Patreon or Apple's. subscriptions to listen ad-free, unlock monthly bonus episodes, and exclusive content. And remember, when you support our sponsors, you are supporting our show. For our exclusive

discount codes and source information from today's episode, check out the show notes. For more information on our show, our book recommendations, merch updates, and more. Visit our website at npaddpodcast.com. And please rate, review, and subscribe from wherever you listen to podcasts. You're listening to this podcast, so I know you've got a cure. 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

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