National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 35

Episode Date: August 31, 2023

Today’s stories include a near miss with a serial killer, ghost children, feathered signs and finding out what meta means. 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  or Apple Subscriptions 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!Prose: Use our link for a free in-depth hair consultation and 15% off your first order.Beam: Use our link and code NPAD for up to 40% off.   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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Hello, hello, everyone. Welcome back to another Trail Tales episode. You introduce the Trail Tales the same way every time. I can like that on it. I thought that right as they said it. You're like, do we start over? No. We're in it now.

We're here with a lot more trail tales today. And the first one that I have is kind of crazy. Oh, okay. So maybe I should go first. Well, let's hear it. Okay. Mine is titled, Trail, sort of. Hi, Cassie and Danielle.

I'm a new listener after my brother introduced me to your podcast and now I'm obsessed. I listen on my way to and from work every day during my 45-minute commute. I live in the Central Valley in California and drive up to the mountain in Mariposa, which sits just outside of Yosemite National Park. So thank you for making the drive more exciting. Today, I'm going to tell you about my first-hand encounter with Carrie Stainer, the Yosemite Park Slayer. Oh, no.

You always get these stories, and it's because you did the story. Yeah, and if everyone remembers, I think it was like the fourth story we ever did. It's a serial killer that was in the Yosemite area. So this is crazy. Okay. So setting the scene, it was the summer of 19. 99, I was on summer break from my courses at Sonoma State University. I was working as a cashier in the Curry Gift Store and Yosemite National Park.

Even though I grew up only two hours west of the park, this was my first experience ever visiting, let alone working there. I found the job listing online while I was in college and thought it would be fun to do a summer job experience. I absolutely loved working there. I met so many people who had the same idea of a quote unquote fun summer job from all over the world. Equally, there were so many travelers from all over the world who came to enjoy the beauty Yosemite had to offer. It was breathtaking. I told my parents, who oddly enough, also had never been to the

park, that when I sit on the front porch of my wab, the small shed-like cabin we lived in, and I looked up to the right, I had the most gorgeous view of half dome. And when I look up to the left, I see one of the tallest waterfalls in the world, Yosemite Falls. I was 21 years old, and one of only a few of my co-opement. workers who were legally allowed to drink. One night after work, my co-worker Linda, asked if I wanted to go to the cliff room at Yosemite Lodge to hang out and get a drink. I was excited to go and joined her later that evening. While we were at the bar chatting, a man came and sat in the seat next to the empty seat next to Linda. So was me, Linda, an empty seat, then this man. Eventually, he engaged in small talk with us. I don't remember if he drank

any alcoholic beverages, but I do remember Linda and I being a little silly from a few drinks. He started to become a little flirty with Linda, who was approximately 30 years older than I was at the time. He mentioned, quote, unquote, hypothetically meeting, you ladies, for dinner one night, to which Linda quickly responded with, oh, honey, I'm old enough to be your mother, but was quick to suggest, my friend here is about to graduate from college and would be more your speed. I was shocked and caught off guard because he appeared to be a bit older than me and a total stranger. It was difficult to hide the look on my face as my friend just offered me up like that. I said that was a sweet offer, however, I had a boyfriend. He told us to have a

nice evening, left a few bucks in the bar, and said it was nice chatting with us and walked out. We didn't think much of it after that, but something struck me as odd with that man that night. Why was he there alone? Was he a park guest? Was he sneaking away from his family to have some time away. Fast forward a week or so later, we were headed to town, aka Merced, to attend the county fair. I was the only one in my friend group who had a car, and since I was the most familiar with the area, I volunteered to drive us there. At the end of the evening, we found out that the highway we took to get to Merced was closed due to a rock slide, so he had to go back to another route. We took the highway 120 entrance back into the park. It was late, but we were rocking out

to country music and singing out loud with the windows down. In the distance, we noticed some very bright lights in the middle of the meadow up ahead, then a bunch of cars parked along the side of the road, where you don't normally see bright lights or cars lined up. At that moment, the CD we were listening to started skipping, and the car was suddenly quiet. It was eerie, and we were all wondering what happened. The next day, we went about our business as usual. I went to work and came home. My roommate and I were sitting on the porch of the wab when a lifer, someone who came to work in the park many years ago and has never left, came walking through the housing area and blurted out to us, there's been a murder in the park, you should call your parents, and kept walking. My roommate and I looked

at each other and moments later heard him howl at the moon. We laughed it off. You see, it wasn't uncommon for tourists to die in the park, unfortunately due to preventable actions. We would hear the search and rescue helicopters rescuing and recovering people from ledges and waterfalls periodically and figured it was just someone trying to get that one last perfect shot from a waterfall and fell over. I realize that sounds harsh, but that is the reality of how it is. Some time had passed and we kind of discussed how the 10 o'clock news had already been on, so maybe we should call home. I went to the nearby payphone.

Yes, payphone. It was 1999 and there weren't cell phones there yet. And called home. My mom picked up on the second ring and I could hear the panic in her voice. She said the news story reported there was a homicide of a Yosemite Park in plowell. She said she called the National Park Service and desperately pleaded with them to get more information, and all they would tell her was that it was a female employee who resided near a waterfall. All she could think about was the view I described from my porch.

She insisted on coming to get me, but I told her I was sure anyone who did this would be long gone and definitely wouldn't be in the housing area or anywhere near me. Months later, the story unfolded about Carrie Stainer. When I saw his face on the news, I immediately remembered that, evening at the Cliffroom. It was that same man. I called my own roommate and all she said when she picked up the phone was, holy shit, it's him. I was glued to the TV the entire time they had the story about him or his court case and was so relieved when he was found guilty and sentenced, knowing he would never be a free man again. I truly feel like I was being watched over that night at the bar.

Like there was a reason why it wasn't me. It wasn't my time because it very well could have been me. I was around the same age as Joey, his fourth victim. We were both blonde, worked for the park, and had similar senses for adventure. I don't take for granted that I am still here to talk about my encounter. I'm so grateful for the time I got to spend in Yosemite. I even went back and worked this summer after I graduated from college and also stayed through the winter. I have been back to the park many times since that summer. Every time I drive past a Cedar Lodge on my way to or from the park,

I say a little thank you prayer inside my head and tell Carol and Julie's son and Silvino Pelosi that I'm so sorry for what they went through, but I hope that they are at peace. Sorry for the long story, and in fact, I just realized I've never written this story down as it happened. I've talked about it, but never written it down with every little detail. The stay and our family is also from the same hometown as me, Merced, California, and I grew up learning about the kidnapping and tragic death of his brother Stephen. Even if my story isn't right on your podcast, I am actually relieved to get it out there and written down. If anything, just to remind myself to always be aware of my surroundings.

Thank you for all the hard work you do for your podcast and I continue to enjoy catching up on each episode. And just like you say, enjoy the view, but watch your back. That gave me goosebumps. Whoa. Me too. I don't even know what that feeling would be like to realize that you just had this like near miss, essentially. Yeah. And I obviously did a lot of research into that story.

you describe that you look kind of similar to Joey who was killed inside at the park. And the fact that you had such a close encounter with him at the bar, it's just, it just makes it even more of a chilling story. And I am also very happy that you are here to tell of this encounter and you didn't end up a victim of Carrie Steiner. I mean, that is so scary. He was obviously a very, very dangerous man. And I also really love how she was just like, I still think.

think of his other victims every time I drive by the lodge and say a little something for them. I think that's very thoughtful. Me too. 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.

All right, my first story is titled, Helping a Lost Boundary Waters Ghost. Hi, ladies, my name is Kelsey, and firstly, I love the podcast. Y'all are great and make waking up at 5 a.m. The dead of winter to go to work almost wearable. Secondly, I'd like to tell you about the time my group met a lost ghost in the Boundary Waters canoe area wilderness. In 2003, I was 14 years old, and I got to go on a 10-day all-girls canoeing trip in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. Part of the expansive Superior National Forest, the Boundary Waters is 1.1 million acres of protected wilderness

situated along the border of northern Minnesota and Canada. It is also adjacent to the 1,838 square mile Quatico Provincial Park on the Canadian side. This is canoe country. Other than a few entry lakes on the outskirts that allow small motorboats, this area is accessible only by canoe or dog sled in the winter. There are no roads. There are no motorized vehicles. There are barely any hiking trails. Just thousands of lakes, streams, rivers, and marshes all linked together by miles and miles of unspoiled boreal forest. A few days before the end of our trip, our group, consisting of me and four other girls plus our two trail guides, paddled up to the portage, leading from Jitterbug Lake to Ossib Lake. There was another group already coming down the opposite way on the small portage, so we waited patiently in our boats as they finished loading their canoes.

There was a woman, probably in her late 30s, sitting on a rock off to the side of the portage. She was reading an old map. We started talking to her as she asked us where we'd come from and what direction we were heading. I remember noticing what she was wearing and thinking that it was kind of strange. She was wearing khaki shorts, old tennis shoes, and white knee-high tube socks, a cotton, but, buttoned down shirt and she had these giant wire-rimmed glasses that looked exactly like the ones my dad used to wear in the 1970s. She seemed sort of confused and a bit shy, but was nice and listened as we gushed about our trip. We'd assumed that she was with the group that had been there when we

had arrived, but they finished loading their boats and had left without her. In fact, they hadn't spoken to her at all. As we started unpacking our canoes, she asked us if we had a spare map she could have. She said that she was with a group and that someone had gotten sick and they needed to find a way out to get to a phone or a ranger station. Being the prepared young explorers we were, we did indeed have an extra map and quickly dug it out of a pack to give to her. Before we could ask her any questions or give her directions, she thanked us profusely and turned and walked down the portage. We started making our own way down the trail less than a minute later. Now, this portage is only about 15 rods long. In case you aren't familiar, a portage is the pathway between two

bodies of water, and they are usually measured in rods. A rod is about 16 and a half feet in length, the length of an average canoe. So a 15 rod portage is a little under 250 feet long. It is just a narrow footpath surrounded by dense forest on all sides. It took us a couple of minutes to make our way to the lake on the other side. We all kept an eye out for this woman or other members of her group as we made our way down the trail, hoping to see if there was something else we could do to help, as it sounded like an emergency, and we were very deep in the wilderness. She was nowhere to be seen. We met no one else on the trail. At the end of the portage was a small landing and a big marsh with a narrow channel of water that went straight out for a while before opening into a medium-sized

lake. It would have even taken the fast-list paddlers more than a couple of minutes to canoe out far enough to not be seen from the portage. There were no canoes anywhere in sight, not even on the lake itself. Remember, we had followed her down the path within seconds, and there's literally nowhere to go. Venture off the path in any direction, and you're walking into thousands of acres of raw wilderness. This woman had no gear with her, not even a water bottle, just caught in clothes, those old school glasses, and our map. She had just vanished. We threw our packs into our canoes and pushed out onto the water, paddling in silence for a few minutes before one of our trip leaders finally blurted out, okay, can we all agree that that was a fucking ghost, right? This broke the tension

and we all exploded with a chorus of, oh my God, I know, right? We did a couple of more portages that day, including gleefully showing up a group of overly helpful teenage boy scouts as we flipped our canoes onto our shoulders and solo carried them down the trail, but we never saw that woman again. I think about her every so often and have so many questions. If she was with a group, then why was she sitting on a rock by herself? Where was the rest of her group or her gear? What was wrong with the map that she was reading? Why didn't she ask us if we knew where the ranger station was?

The more I think about it, the stranger it becomes. I hope that if she was a lost ghost trying to find her way out of canoe country, that our map helped her find her way to peace. And I'm happy that her spirit felt comfortable enough to approach such a rag-taggle group of smelly preteens turned wilderness women. Happy trails, and as always, enjoy. enjoy the view, but watch your back and always carry an extra map, Kelsey. I think it's so funny if this was actually a real woman and she's listening to this episode

and she's like, I exist. I am real and I was actually lost. Like I was lost. My group had my gear. And I'm just unprepared so I didn't have a water bottle and I have a vintage style. She's like, I was rescued that day. Surgeon Rescue found me. that day. I'm not a ghost. Imagine that person hears this. Kelsey gets the answers she's been dying for since 2003,

over two decades. We need to find you. Where are you? Ghost woman. Ghost woman. We'll see. I mean, who knows? Stranger things have happened. That's true. That's true. You never know. It's your job to find her now. It's on you. We passed the torch. We did our job. We were the messengers. You now have a duty. Figure it out. My story is tight. If my dad were to reincarnate, I think he'd be a pilliated woodpecker. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. I recently discovered your podcast after her friend suggested I listened to your grandma Gatewood episode.

I come from a family of Appalachian Trail Thruhikers, so I was super excited to listen to your rendition of arguably the most badass through hiker story. Ever since, I have unshamelessly become slightly obsessed with your podcast and listen to a couple episodes every day for work. While this trail isn't about a specific national park or for, It is about a person who introduced me to national parks, camping, hiking, and adventure, aka my dad. My dad was the most adventurous person I've ever known.

So much so that I used to tease him and say he could write an entire series of books about all of his crazy outdoor adventures, such as having to cut his tangled parachute off so that he could pull his reserve shoot while skydiving in the 82nd Airborne Division, convincing the park rangers to let him be the first person allowed to hike up the Mount St. Helens. after it erupted, and even creating a game when he was just a kid that was called Hopefully Lost, where the goal was to bushwhack up a mountain and find his way back down to the other side. He had an epic adventure story for every season of his life. He made sure to include my brother and I in his adventures from an early age. My first trip being to Olympic National Park at less than a year old.

Growing up, we'd skip school for a week or two almost every year to go on vacation to see national parks and monuments. My mom and dad's view on it was that we'd learn so much more in those weeks exploring nature than we ever would in school. They were so right. One of the things we'd like to do on every national park trip we took was find out what types of birds were native to the area so that we could keep an eye out for them. We especially enjoyed seeing all the different types of woodpeckers around the country. My dad used to say that one of his favorite memories was of my brother and I sitting on a bench along a trail being mesmerized by a woodpecker finding its next meal in a tree in front of us. In 2016, my brother threw hike the AT and I was planning to

through hike the AT myself the next year. We grew up listening to the stories my dad told of his 1980 through hike, so it was always something I knew I'd do at some point in my life. Unfortunately, two months before the start date of my hike, my dad suddenly passed away. My mom and brother and I came home from the hospital to find a deceased woodpecker that had flown into the same kitchen window that my dad spent most of his mornings watching wildlife through. We were stunned. What were the chances that the same day my dad passed, we would find one of his favorite types of bird also dead? We felt like it had been a sign from our dad that he didn't suffer and that his passing was sudden and quick, just like the woodpecker. Since then, I've had a

handful of experiences with woodpeckers that I can only explain as being more signs for my dad. But the most profound was last year on Father's Day. I was driving to work while thinking about my dad when all of the sudden not one but two woodpeckers flew out in front of me. It was such a cool experience that I wrote down the exact time it happened so that I could ask my boss to bring up the dash cam footage for me to see. The time I wrote down was 143. Unfortunately, I found out that corporate doesn't let my boss pull footage unless there was an accident so I couldn't get the video clip. Otherwise, I would have included it in this email. Later that week, I was telling my therapist about the experience, and when I said the time that it happened, her jaw dropped.

I had no idea, but she told me that apparently 143 is code for I love you, because I is one letter, love is four letters, and you is three letters. After hearing that, it just solidified to me that coincidences can't be real. Listening to you both explain the histories and stories about some of the parks that my dad took my family to has made me gain a new appreciation for the them all. I was an angsty teenager for some of the trips and took them for granted. I plan to revisit them all, starting with the Grand Canyon later this week. Attached to our photo of me and my dad on our first national park trip to Olympic. A screenshot of the text I sent my mom after seeing those woodpeckers last Father's Day, and both a photo of my dad on the Knife Edge Trail in Katadden during

his through hike and a photo of me at the very same spot during my through hike almost 40 years later. I like to believe that we're never alone and our loved ones who have passed are always trying to find a way to show their love. You just have to enjoy the view and remember to always watch out for their signs. Kirsten. You know, I'm a sucker for a sign. And I think it's so cool because I love hearing people's experience with signs because for Kirsten, it's like the woodpeckers are everywhere. I can't tell you the last time I saw a woodpecker. You know what I mean?

It's like for her. Like you notice them. Yeah. They're everywhere. And for me, it's like, I couldn't tell you the last time I saw woodpecker years ago. I didn't see one, but I was hiking the other day and I heard one. And I was like, oh, there's a woodpecker. Oh, that's nice.

Yeah. But yeah. So I just love like when you take notice and especially to things that you're like, oh, my God. Like, I can't even believe like just some further solidification, you know, like the one four thing, four, three things she didn't realize until after. and it gave it new, kind of like bolstering up, you know, what I mean. And I have something for you so that it's a coincidence. But so, you know how this morning. I'm full of stories today.

I just had a Rakey session and I'm feeling like my energy cleared. So I'm like up and up right now. So this morning, I obviously, you know, but I texted Cassie and I told her that I had a really vivid dream about Ian. and I hadn't had one in a few weeks or since we were in Alaska. And I had this dream that he was like kissing the right side of my cheek as hard as he could. And it was like in my dream, I was like, ow, like it's leaving like a mark, like a red mark on my cheek. Like this is really intense. Yeah, like the right side of my cheek too, which is odd because he was usually on my left side.

And so I just remember that really vividly. And then in my dream, he asked me to marry him. And I said yes. and it was great and I woke up and I was like, usually I'm a little sad and I was a little sad, but I was overwhelmingly happy. And then the first photo I see on my phone because it gives me like a, you know, like out of the 6,000 photos I have on there. Like it, you know, does your phone do that? The preview? Yeah. Like every day or whatever. It's like, I put this together for you. Do you want to watch it? Yeah, exactly. It's like, I guess. Some days it's like a series of bad selfies and I'm like,

no, thank you. No, it's like, okay, there's 6,000 to choose from and you chose those. Thank you. Well, this one was a picture of me and Ian that I have, that I haven't seen in a lot. I think it was from October of 2020. And we were in Lake Tahoe. And it was a selfie that I was taking and he was reaching around and kissing my right cheek. And I was like, oh my God, that's so cool. And then the part you don't know is I, so I told you and I told Nitea. And she told me, she did tell me that she was going to be sending me something and to look

out for something in the mail. And she sent me something a while ago, and it came today. And she addressed it. She's never addressed me like this formally ever. She addressed it to Danielle Elliott. Oh. And just like to hear like my dream that like he asked me to marry him and like I, and then I, when I woke up, I'm like, I'm never going to have like my name be that formally and that's upsetting. And then to see it written down like that. Yeah. It's just like wild. No coincidences. No coincidences. They don't exist. I was just like, I don't know. And just when you get that secondary like thing to support the initial sign, it's just like, it's really, really cool. So anyways, enough about me. I love that. All right. So my story is titled,

Ghost Children and a Hungry Mountain Lion gave me childhood trauma. Hi, Danielle and Cassie. Before I start my super long trail tale, I would like to take a moment to say thank you very much for this wonderful podcast. As someone who has never had an interest in national parks, you two have really given me the motivation to actually seek out these amazing places. I found your podcast while in the process of moving, which was a really tough experience for my family and I. So your voices and tails have really uplifted my spirits throughout these months. And for that, I am so grateful. But anyways, sorry for gushing. Back to my trail tale. Well, thank you for listening, because that's very meaningful that people actually want to listen to us. It is. And I can't believe you have

no interest in national parks. Well, maybe they do now. Yeah, they said that they do now. That's just so funny because I've always been interested in them. Maybe he does now. Who knows? I wanted to talk about my hometown of Whittier, which is a historic Quaker town in Southern California right next door to a huge

sprawling cemetery, Rose Hills Memorial Park, and the infamous Turnball Canyon. I'd like to get to the infamous canyon later on, so for now I'm going to recount a little incident that happened to my mom, my sister, and I one sunny afternoon. My mom is an avid lover of biking and probably has more trail tales than I ever will about her long treks, one of which includes walking in on a cult ceremony at Echo Park, but that's for another tale. I think this is the one she remembers the most, and luckily, but unluckly, I was there to share it with her. When I was about six or seven years old, my mother had decided to take my sister and I biking. It did not sound like the funnest idea for my sister and I at the time, understandably, but her enthusiasm

couldn't be ignored. To make a long story short, we are a morbid family intrigued by all things macab. She had taken us to go biking in the huge cemetery of Rose Hills. I cannot begin to describe just how big that place is. So just imagine an enormous cemetery connected to a huge nature preserve slash trail slash canyon, turnball canyon, where an abundance of wildlife like deer and mountain lions well. Well, I guess you can see where this is going. We had almost reached the very top of the cemetery, but I had stopped momentarily to catch my breath and watch the beautiful sunset from where we were. I hadn't felt any danger at the time, and nor had I expect to see anything but dear while spiking through the cemetery. Though that outlook I'd had at the time changed instantly

when I heard my mother tell my sister and I in a hushed voice to slowly go down the cemetery and do not run. Growing up with a policewoman as my mother, I was taught to not freak out when danger arose in front of me, but instead to analyze the situation calmly and find the safest way out. It could have been those lessons ingrained in me or the fact that I had just been, or the fact that I had been just a child back then, but when my mother had finally told us, Mountain Lion, I did nothing but get down that hill as fast as I could without running as my mother and sister followed behind me. I vaguely remember the scene now, and I had actually had my mom recount the story to me so that I could write this tale, but remembering it now has made me laugh, and has also given me

a newfound fear of mountain lions, especially after hearing the tales you share in your podcast. Fair. My mom said that it was a huge mountain lion, close enough to us that she could see it as clear as day, and that it had been digging through one of the trash cans of the cemetery, most likely searching for food. She also stated that if the mountain lion had pursued us, she would have hidden my sister and I in other trash cans while we kept her bikes above our heads to prevent the lion from getting at us. I'm not sure how effective that would have been, but I'm glad we never had to test that out. And if I'm reading that clearly, she would have put her kids in the trash? I think so. Like as like a protective, like, bear.

I feel like that's like, it's like, yeah, for your protection, get in the trash can. Like, go. I don't get it. I mean, I guess maybe. Yeah, I guess maybe that's like two little kids, like trying to keep track of them. While you're being pursued by a predator, it's easier to just like dunk them in the trash. Get in the trash can. Get out of my way.

Yeah. You're safe in here. Put some rocks. That had been my first ever experience with the mountain lion. And I hope that it will be my very last. Though for the supernatural, I dare say I am much more enthusiastic about that, which leads me to my next tale, which is yet another terrifying ordeal that I had gone through when I was even younger than when I had that encounter with the lion. Turnbull Canyon is infamous for UFO sightings,

cult gatherings, ghosts, and even murder. In our small town of Whittier, it is also famous in my old high school for students to dare each other to hike up to the canyon at night, which I do not recommend because there is little, because there are literal cult gatherings up there and car racing. Fun combo. I know, it's like, together at this. same time or two separate events. You race your car to get to the cult. It's a cult initiation. Yeah.

Whoever wins gets to be part of the cult. And then the other person, the loser, is burned at the stake. Sacrifice. Yeah. Right. Right. It is much better for hiking lovers to visit in the day. Though if you are also a lover of the supernatural, there is something that I suggest you try

if you visit the canyon, which is exactly what my aunts had unfortunately planned with us. There is a rumor that there had been a school near Turnball Canyon. and there is actually an elementary school, almost a block away from the trail, my nephew went there, actually, that supposedly had students who'd been victims in a terrible natural disaster in the canyon. I'm not sure if the story is true, but knowing the multiple deaths that have happened in the canyon, I don't want to eliminate the possibility. This brings us back to the fact that I went up there with my aunts and my sister. It's said that if you drive up the canyon at night, put flower on your back windshield and leave your car on neutral,

small handprints will show up against the flower. Some people say that the handprints belong to the small children that died up there and that they are pushing against your back windshield to prevent your car from rolling back. This is exactly what my aunts had done while my sister and I sat in the backseat of their car waiting to see if any handprints would show up. That's very scary. Of course, I was horrified, but also intrigued. And honestly, it had fueled my passion for this supernatural even more.

Anyways, we did find a few fingerprints on the back windshield, though we had dismissed them for something else, possibly just someone passing by and hitting the window, but I will never let go of that memory, and I hope that there is someone else out there with their own tale about Turnball Canyon. Thank you so much for the amazing show. I tell everyone about it, including my aunt who lives in Alaska. If my story isn't read, I just want to let you know, Danielle and Cassie and listeners, that I hope your future trip up there is swell. I can't wait to hear all about your adventures. Also, I hope this spooked you, but I hope it intrigued you because finding fingerprints of dead children on your back windshield to prevent you from falling to your death in a haunted canyon

infested with UFOs and Colts is truly terrifying. Turnball Canyon is definitely a place where you can enjoy the view, but I recommend you watch your back or just let the ghost children do that for you. Much love, Owen. And here we are with one more story from Danielle. Danielle's Trail Tales. This is my trail tale episode. This, and I don't know if this is the same canyon or same area or whatever, but this

unlocked a memory for me. Did you have children handprints on the back of your car? No, I remember one of the first stories my dad ever told me. So again, my dad was like, he talked to me like I wasn't a child. Like, he shared things with me and spoke to me like I was an adult even as a kid. And I remember so vividly him telling me this story. Like I can hear his voice right now telling me about a very similar story. But I believe that it's something he saw on like a paranormal show or like, you know, whatever.

And he was just retelling me. And it was the same thing. But it was with, I don't remember it being in a canyon, but I remember him saying that it was a school bus of children that were on train, that got stuck on train. train tracks and a train came and impact like hit the bus and all the kids died and on that area of tracks now people will go there and do this flower thing and little handprints will show up in the back of their car and people will hear kids chanting like on EVPs like got to get them off the tracks like that and like pushing their car off of the tracks. That's so wild and crazy. When you were six. Oh my god that would give me night.

So it's very similar to Owens. It is very. He just said that they just said that, yeah. It's very similar. I mean, you're going out doing the same thing, put flower back of your car, look for the noise. So maybe it's the same. I really want to say it was train tracks and a school bus instead of a natural disaster

in a canyon, but it's very, very similar. So if someone has seen that episode of whatever the hell my dad was talking to me about in like the late 90s, early 2000s, please. yeah, please let me know. I'm scared. I don't want to go there. I want to know because I don't ever want to go there. So you want someone else to tell you? I want someone to tell me where it is precisely, so I never am there.

Oh, got you. Yeah, so you can avoid. Yeah. My story is titled, experiencing a trail tale while listening to trail tales. Hello, my name is Kelsey. I've been a huge fan of your podcast since I heard your collab with Morbid. You have inspired me to get back into hiking, camping, and enjoying the outdoors. Something I haven't really done since having my kids, but I never thought I would have any trail tales to share with you all. Well, last weekend, that changed. One of my favorite hiking activities is to go hiking at one of our local parks that has a nice trail system after work with my dog, Cleo.

I live in upstate New York, and the park we go to is 300 acres of woods and trails. On this particular day, Cleo and I chose a trail we don't do often. There were no other cars in the parking lot, and I was grateful to have the park to ourselves. I popped in one air pod, not two because that would be unsafe, and put on a trail tale episode that I had downloaded to listen to during the hike. We were about a mile in when on a whim I took an offshoot of the main trail that goes up a 20 to 30 foot ridge before coming back down to meet with the trail again. We got to the top of the ridge when Cleo suddenly sprinted forward and disappeared behind a big tree.

As I'm walking more quickly to catch up with her, I heard something climbing up the tree and saw a medium-sized blur, up the side. I didn't get a good look at it, but my first thought was that it had been a raccoon. When I caught up to Cleo, she was pushing a fat, dead squirrel around on the ground with her nose. While I tried to get her away from the squirrel, I looked up into the lowest branch of the tree, only to make direct eye contact with a bobcat, less than 10 feet from where we were standing. My heart sank, and that feeling of pure disbelief and light panic began to set in. I grabbed Cleo's collar and kept my eyes on it as I tried to back away quickly, but not too quickly and also not too slowly.

I realized while looking at it, it was young, definitely not full grown, but bigger than a baby. Then another wave of panic set in. Where is the mom? At this point, Cleo lost interest in the situation and was totally oblivious to my panic and continued down the trail like nothing was happening. I attempted to follow and slipped on wet leaves, almost accidentally hurling my heart. over the ledge of the ridge, all while thinking in my head, you'll never know if a big cat is stalking you. In between, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. And there's no one else here today, you're completely alone. As I stumbled down the ridge, a muddy, wet mess, constantly looking over my shoulder to see

if anything was following us, a trail tale was playing in my air pod, and just so happened to be a story of a bear cup encounter. I could feel my heartbeat all over my body. If you've ever felt that sensation, you know what I mean. During the blurry panic moments this was happening, I didn't actually realize it was a bobcat and I thought it was a young mountain lion. So I really thought both Cleo and I were goners. Oh no. That is actually. Those are very different. Yeah, it's true. At first I was like, I mean, seeing a bobcat within 10 feet of you, especially being startled by any type of wildlife is jolting at first. But a bobcat's like, oh. But to think it's a mountain lion? Yeah, mountain lion is like, oh my god, yeah, we're goners. It's in the tree somewhere about to slit my throat.

Yeah. Bobcat, it's like, all right, I'm going to get scratched up for sure. They go on to say, so yeah, not only did we somehow startle a young bobcat, but also disrupted it while it was eating while listening to someone else's terrifying encounter with a bear cub and made it through without being attacked by the mom Bobcat. It was all very meta. Thanks for reading. I'll be watching my back for the foreseeable future, Kelsey. Okay, so I have a question. What's meta mean? It's really I tried to read it like I knew what they were saying because I want to be part of the young crowd. But I feel like it means like it was all very like trippy maybe. Like because they're saying that it was a trail tale within a trail tale that was happening.

It says that would be so meta. Meta is when something refers back to or is about itself like a book about books or a meme about memes. So like inception. Like an inception kind of thing. Yeah, a dream within a dream. Like you're listening to a podcast. about a situation while you're going through that situation. It's like a book about a book.

Okay. I'm going to add that to my vocabulary. So when you hear me said, so meta. It's so meta. God, are we old? Not making fun of you, Kelsey. I'm just like, not making fun of you. We just honestly don't know the legal of kids these days.

What if Kelsey isn't a kid? Kelsey said they have kids. That doesn't mean anything. She could still be younger than us. We're old. Or because she has. kids, she knows the lingo. Right. It could really go either way. It could go either way. Either way, you know more than we do. You're right. Exactly. All right. My last one is titled Glaciers,

feathers, and a little magic from the universe. Hey, Cassie and Danielle, my name is Wendy. You can use it. And like most who write in, I'm a big fan of the pod. You guys do an amazing job of storytelling while sneaking in lessons on history, science, and so much more. My nerdy, outdoor loving brain loves it. I look forward to my few hours with you every week, so thank you. I often think of this story when I listen to your trail tale episodes. I'm just a master procrastinator, and it's taken me forever to actually sit, focus, and write this down. I too believe that there are no such thing as coincidences, which is how this story came to be. I live in the outskirts of Seattle, Washington, just off of Bainbridge Island. Like many in the Northwest, I spent a great deal of my

free time outdoors. I never tire of how beautiful this area is. This happened in late summer of 2020. As we all know, 2020 was pretty much a dumpster fire. I was struggling, as many of us were. Six months prior to the COVID lockdown, I ended a five-year relationship. I was grieving the loss of what I had pictured my future to hold, moving out, figuring out what I wanted, and starting over at nearly 40. I'm an ER nurse. All the stress of the unknowns with COVID was huge at the time, too. My ex had been my go-to adventure partner. We spent all of our free time climbing the local peaks, backcountry skiing, kayaking, etc. I felt confident having someone with me whose strengths complemented all of my self-perceived weaknesses. Now I was learning to adventure alone,

seeking out new relationships, and at the time, I felt like a complete imposter. I'm not sure exactly who reached out to who, but somehow a few friends from a climbing course I had taken a few years prior, decided to do a late-season climb of Mount Baker. As luck had it, we ended up being a group of four, all-women. While not planned as an all-women's climb, we were excited it worked out this way. Most of us, myself included, had climbed Baker before. But when it comes to planning a climb, it's never something I, nor my climbing partners take lightly. Conditions change constantly in the mountains. I have a love-hate relationship with mountaineering. I love the physical challenge, seeing amazing areas few people ever do, the confidence in knowing how to try.

travel on a glacier and re-terrain. But I hate exposure and often end up so nervous I have trouble enjoying the actual experience. The struggle is real. Switching gears briefly. Hang in there. I promise it will pull back together. I find myself speaking often to the universe asking for signs. Call me a little woo-woo, but listening to your stories, Danielle, and the other stories shared from listeners, I know I'm not alone. This particular summer, I was talking to the universe a lot. I had been seeing feathers everywhere. I know this isn't something out of the ordinary for someone who spends time outdoors, but they would show up in massive quantities or in very unexpected places, sometimes literally fluttering to the ground in front of me.

My father passed away when I was a teenager. My dad was the person I always looked up to. He was the best dad in the world as far as I was concerned. He always saw the great blue heron as his good omen. I like to think that this was his way of showing me his presence. Who knows, but I like believing this story, and our reality is what we make of it. right? Back to the climb. The night before I was packing and talking to my brother on the phone,

we aren't the most up-to-date on current movies type of family, and he was telling me how he had just watched the newest remake of Dumbo. He reminded me of the quote by Stephen King, Dumbo didn't need the feather, the magic was within him. It made me smile, and I decided to follow my brother's lead on old dash new to me movies and put it on in the background while I was organizing my gear. Jump to the next day. We all met at the trailhead in the afternoon and hiked into our camp. It was a beautiful calm night. My stomach was doing flip-flops as it does before any mountain adventure I get myself into. We had a great, light-hearted conversation that helped ease my jitters. And I have to laugh because I think it was mostly four

women sitting around a camp talking about pooping in the woods. We went to bed early as we had an alpine start that was going to arrive before we knew it. I don't think I slept well, but I did have a calmness that I hadn't experienced pre-climb in the past, especially since my breakup. Then it was go time. We woke up and got ourselves ready with the light of the moon and our headlamps, and we were off. If you have never experienced a sunrise from a glacier, you should put it on your list. The colors, the way the light constantly changes as it dances up from the horizon and reflects on the snow is mesmerizing. We had a pretty straightforward, uneventful climb as we approached the Roman wall, the steepest section leading up to the summit. It was late season, so there were many open crevasses below us.

The root up is not particularly technical, but to someone with a fear of exposure, it stirs up all those butterflies. We rested for a short time, looked into the Sherman Crater, and took in the lovely sulfur odor it produces and set off. I was the third on our rope team, so I had a little time before it was my turn to continue on. I took a few shaky steps, and then a few more, and then I looked down. and right in front of me on the middle of the glacier was a feather lying in the snow. I did a mixture of laugh and cry at the same time and picked up the feather. All of the sudden, I felt confident that I had this. My dad was right there with me.

I put the feather in my pocket and took in the amazing views as I huffed and puffed my way to the summit. Once we were there, I reached back in my pocket, but the feather was gone. I smiled and almost laughed again. Just like Dumbo, I didn't need that feather. the magic and the ability was within me. I had never felt more proud of myself and so deeply connected with spirit, whatever that may be. We safely climbed back down and packed up camp. For the first time in a long time, I felt confident that I could do whatever it was that I decided I wanted to accomplish. I didn't need my ex as my crutch anymore. I won't say I haven't struggled

since. Life is always an ebb and flow of giving us challenges, showing us awe, and then handing us yet another chance to grow even more. I've moved away from mountaineering this last year and spend more time now hiking and attempting to trail run with my dog. Just because it's there, doesn't always mean we have to climb it. There are a million ways to enjoy the outdoors. No one is better than the other. So find your feather, get outside, and share the magic that is within you. Thanks for taking the time to read my tale. I've been wanting to put this in writing for quite some time and your trail tales gave me the nudge to get this down on paper. Thank you for the hours of entertainment you have given me. I look forward to many more, Wendy. I love that.

I also totally forgot that that was the saying in Dumbo because I haven't seen it since I was a child and I love that. They ended this story with, it turned out I didn't need the feather. I had it all within me the whole time. I love that sentiment. It's just so warm. Like this was such a happy, empowering. It's a good trail tale to end on. Yeah, really? Wendy, you go Wendy. You go Wendy. You go, Wendy. Wait, was that really the last one? Yeah, because now we have our outsiders. Oh, okay.

All right. I was like, wow, that felt short. Okay, cool. All right, so thanks everyone for listening. Keep them coming. We can't wait to do more. And for outsiders, we have two more to share with you, as always. And if you'd like to listen, you can listen on Patreon or we have Apple subscriptions

as well. So we have both those. They're in the show notes. Click on the links. You can join us. Listen to those last two. We also have a ton of other bonus content on their. as well, not just trail tales, but we do bonus stories every month as well. That's right. Every

trail tale episode is ad-free. Sure is. All right. So let's get on over there. Everyone, thanks for coming and enjoying some tales with us. We'll see you next time. In the meantime, enjoy the view. But watch you're back. 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 N-PADPodcast.com. Follow us on Instagram. 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 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 curious mind. Here's a helpful fact you may not know yet.

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