National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 36

Episode Date: September 28, 2023

Today’s stories include volcanic adventures, a VAN down by the RIVER, ghostly side hugs, hairbrush shivs in the Badlands and bears, butterflies and birds from beyond. 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!Beam: Use our link and code NPAD for up to 40% off.  Prose: Use our link for a free in-depth hair consultation and 15% off your subscription, plus $20 off your first subscription order. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Monday AI agents took over my work. And I absolutely love it. Chasing deadlines, writing status reports, updating stakeholders. Agents handle the daily grind now. They live inside Monday.com. So they see the full picture, my work, my team, the whole company. And I don't have to worry about the data. It's safe, which means I'm free to focus on the big stuff,

knowing everything runs smoothly in the background. It's completely shifted the way we work. Create your own AI agent in minutes on Monday.com. Girl, winter is so last season. And now Springs got you looking at pictures of tank tops with hungry eyes. Your algorithm is feeding you cutoffs. You're thirsty for the sun on your shoulders. That perfect hang on the patio sundress.

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

Sure do. You guys always deliver, so we have lots of stories today. I'm going first this time. Not to be like a bitch about it, but... No, I like the bossiness. Like, you know what you want. Go for it. Let's hear your story.

The first one is titled, The Pregnant Geochemist with a Dream. Hi, Danielle and Cassie. I discovered your podcast about a month ago, and since then I've listened to nearly every episode. Yes, I binged, but it's been slow at work, which is a good thing. I'm a pathologist assistant. I work in surgical and autopsy pathology. In other words, my passion involves, here's a warning about graphic content here,

cutting up organs and sewing corpses. I am as morbid as morbid gets. Mix in a love of the outdoors and your podcast has become my happy place. Now, despite my morbid nature, the tale I have for you today is one of perseverance. It does not take place in a national park. Rather, it highlights the end of my sister and my adventure to Iceland. Allow me to introduce my sister, Kirsten. It is Kirsten, right? Yeah.

She studied geological engineering and has a master's in environmental geochemistry. She's a huge rock nerd. Kirsten is four years older than I am, but we have always been very close. She's my best friend, role model, and adventure partner. Kirsten got married in 2021. Her husband was eager to start having babies. Kirsten, on the other hand, was eager to travel. So while he started picking baby names, she started picking countries.

We planned to travel to Iceland in August of 2022, shortly after her return trip to Italy with her husband in June. I was very well aware of her husband's intentions, and I begged her not to get pregnant until after our trip. But while frolicking in the Italian sun and drinking wine, she got knocked up. I felt 90% unbridled joy and 10% selfish, appointment. Could she travel, or would I be headed to Iceland alone? Despite being seven weeks

pregnant and just starting to experience all the joys of the first trimester, she was committed. We arrived in Iceland on July 31st of 2022. As we were settling into our hostel in Reykjavik, we experienced a first, an earthquake. The bunkbed shook, the building groaned, my sister and I exchanged a look of wide-eyed terror and nervous laughter, but it ended as suddenly as it began. We went about our day only to be awoken that night by another stronger earthquake. Something was brewing and that something just so happened to be, okay. If you could see this word, everyone, you'd be like, that's made up and I can't say it. So I'm just going to say it.

I don't even think my mouth conform to the word that this is trying to. Okay, okay, let's break it up into like elementary standards here. Okay, so... There's someone in Iceland who is eating this up right now. Like, let's hear this. Okay. Fagrajval volcano. I have no idea if that's how you say it.

But it looks like that. So I'm gonna... That's what I'm doing. So either way, a volcano was erupting. On August 3rd, the fourth day of our trip, the volcano erupted. I'd like to note that my sister and I were on an organized group tour of country. We had attempted to drive ourselves around Spain earlier in the year. However, after driving the run...

car onto a few too many pedestrian streets and getting it stuck in a few too many narrow alleyways. Once having to rely on a kind local man to drive it out, we opted for a passive mode of transport. This means our time was not our own. The trip had been amazing so far. Diamond Beach, Glacier Lagoon, innumerable waterfalls, geysers, that sweet smell of sulfur, but not a volcano, the talk of the town. Everyone started asking, how do we get there? Our group even tried to convince our bus. driver Carl to extend the trip to drive us to the volcano. Carl declined. Yeah. Like, no thank you. I'd rather not drive straight into an active erupting volcano. I don't typically like burning to death, but maybe some other time. The country was advising people to stay away and rightly so. Funny thing about

people, we don't like being told what to do. We found an adventure tourism company offering transportation and guided hikes to the volcano. We were scheduled to be back to. in Reichen Reichen, Reichen by 4 p.m. on August 6th, and one of these tours just so happened to depart from the city at 6.30 p.m. August 6. Plenty of time to catch that 6 a.m. flight home the following morning, one would think. This reminds me, this is giving you vibes. Yeah, it is. I'm like, we would travel well together. We bought two tickets. My sister was tired, however. It had been a week of fast-paced travel. She had already hiked to glacier and summited the top of a dormant volcano crater while pregnant. The hike the volcano was 14 kilometers, about nine miles round trip, at night across inclined,

rugged lava fields. She debated whether she would go at all and called her husband for his opinion while I sat anxiously and resisted the urge to Google the effect volcanic gas has on a fetus. Her fiery passion for geology, pun intended, one. Seeing active lava flows has always been a dream of Kirsten so much so that she chose Volcano's National Park in Hawaii as her honeymoon destination. but had no such luck when she was there. Knowing this may be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, she decided she was going to attempt the hike, but stop whenever necessary.

So after an already busy day, we boarded a bus and departed for the volcano. When we arrived at the trailhead, one thing was clear. No one knew what the fuck was going on. It was a tour group of 60 people and two guides, and that was just our company. There was a frantic fight for equipment and orange pennies.

Kirsten and I were informed that there was not enough headlamps and that we should just stick close to those that do have them. So we were off. Hundreds of eager people marching together. Kirsten was slow at first, doubting herself and questioning her decision, but she trudged on. Soon, whatever grievances we had felt upon arriving dissipated. Yes, we were tired, but the excitement in the crowd was rousing. The air was buzzing with energy, and it was thick with smoke. At one point, we even questioned whether we would be able to see anything from the viewpoint due to the poor air quality, but boy, were we wrong. You felt it before you saw it.

The heat burning through the haze clearing the sky. I don't remember how long it took for us to ascend, but I remember coming over a ridge and seeing an active volcano for the first time. The look on my sister's face was pure joy. Magma hung suspended in the air, what deceivingly looked like solid earth crippled and moved in waves. I was mesmerized. We perched ourselves on the rock a safe distance away

and watched as the earth reshaped itself before our eyes. If I had it my way, we would have sat there forever. Perhaps it was an hour, maybe two, but all too quickly the tour guides were trying to corral our group to start the descent. This is when things took a turn. One, coming down the lava field in pitch darkness, proved very difficult, especially for two people without a source of light. I clung to my sister's arm to study her,

who, with fatigued legs, kept tripping over rocks. We passed many injured people along the way, but thankfully we made it to the bottom relatively unscathed. Number two, the bus that was supposed to transport us back to our hostel broke down. We sat for hours, and it soon became a question of, who has flights? Who do we need to get out of here first? My sister and I were a part of that group,

so they shoved us all onto one bus, despite there not being enough seats. Someone offered me a seat, and I interned offered it to my sister before plopping my ass on the hard floor of the bus aisle, along with many others. It was now about one in the morning. I braced myself for the hour-long bus ride back to Reikovic. Am I saying that right? Yeah, Rakevick.

What happened next was a blur. We arrived back at our hostel shortly after 2 a.m. Took a 45-minute nap, then very grogily, awoke to make our way to the airport. Our cab never showed. Worried we would miss our transfer bus to the airport, we started huffing it down the streets of Reykovic in the wee hours of the morning with our luggage. That's just like the walk of shame. Like our walk of shame now is like when you have all your luggage and you're like

pulling it through the streets of some country like cobblestone streets. You're sweating. You're lost. Can't carry it. You're late. We walked an hour and a half to the bus station. We made our flight and arrived home as scheduled. Sleep deprived and stunned.

I couldn't quite wrap my head around how I'd gone from sitting on the edge of a volcano to sitting in a McDonald's drive-thru in our small town of Brockville, Ontario. I know how fatigued I felt that day, and I can't fathom how my sister may have felt. Travel can push us to our limits in the best way possible. I attribute our time at the volcano as one of the most impactful moments of my life. I'm so grateful that my sister, the badass pregnant geochemist with a dream, was by my side for it. Curson gave birth to a beautiful baby girl in March of 2023 and named her,ina, meaning ardent little fire. Our adventure duo has become

an adventure trio. Ena will accompany us to Scotland in August of 20203 at five months of age, and I can't wait to share with her all of the beauty, natural wonders, and even the morbidity of the world. Thank you for the hard work that you put into the podcast,

the stories you tell, and your refreshing commentary are not only entertaining, but educational and inspirational. All the best, Megan. That was such a fun story. That's just like the epitome of an adventure. I feel like everyone listening can like immediately go into some story that they have of their travels where they were running late.

Everything was going wrong. But at the same time, it was a magical experience that you're never going to forget. Yeah. And it just seemed like they both took everything that was happening in stride. It was just like, this is what's happening now. So okay. Yeah. Sounds good.

Admirable because I'm not usually one of those people. I feel like I am. admire that. I'm just like, okay, this is life now. Yeah, you definitely are one of those people. You're just like, well, this is my reality at the moment and what am I going to do about it other than just go with it? Like, here we are. Sounds good. I guess I live in Iceland now. Yeah. I guess I live on a volcano. How do I forward my mail hair? 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 story is titled was it a bat or something else thanks for your amazing podcast you guys keep me company on my 20-minute walk from my home and leafy town of Tenington to my office. Your episodes are always so interesting and they make me wish my commute was longer, which is quite the accolade. My hometown Tenington is in the greater London, UK. It is home to Bushy Park, which is a park which was adapted by King Henry V, into a deer park for him to hunt in when he would move into Hampton Court Palace. Don't get me wrong, it's no Yellowstone or Yosemite.

The most dangerous animals you will find in Bushy Park are the overland. tame deer that will trample your picnic and eat your cucumber sandwiches and cream scones. Anyway, I digress. The story I want to tell you is near a village called Ashington, which is 40 miles or 65 kilometer south from my hometown. Ashington is a small village surrounded by farmlands and countryside and at the time of this story was home to my mom, my stepdad, and my quote unquote brother, Kovi, a sweet and well-behaved tricolor collie. When I would visit, we would love to go on long walks with the dog in the surrounding beautiful countryside. My stepdad would sometimes join, mainly if there was a promise that the walk would pass a country

pub along the way. On this day, it was just me, a girl in her 20s, and my mom, a beautiful short, 5-foot-2 woman in her mid-40s, and the dog. The trail we decided to walk was one at the top of the village. It took us up the hill, passed a few farms, through wonderful woods with trees that were hundreds of years old, and on to an ancient cart track, passed an equally ancient church and looping back through farms and woods back to the house. The cart track was so old that it was sunk meters below the banks of the woods and the trees overhead would form a tunnel. I have an attached picture example

for reference. It was beautiful. I would often imagine that these type of places would be the perfect homes for magical fairies and creatures that would reside in the gnarly exposed roots in the banks. A truly magical place. It was the afternoon, so still light. However, the sunken tracks tunnel-like character created light that felt more like dusk. At this point, we were walking side by side on the old cart track with the dog running ahead and sniffing around when I felt my mom placed her hand upon my shoulder of mine, which was furthest away from her, as if a friendly side hug. I looked at her to give her a smushy smile in appreciation of the out-of-the-blue show of love and lifted my arm to embrace her back when I noticed her arms, both of them swinging freely by her sides. She was not touching me.

However, this hand remained on my shoulder. I don't think I have ever moved so fast when I spun around in a circle trying to aggressively shrug off this hand that was resting on my shoulder whilst yelling. My mom, who I must have startled beyond belief, mirrored my yells and flailed her arms. I was jumping up and down and trying to shake off the goosebumps that now replaced the feeling of the phantom side hug whilst exclaiming, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. My mom obviously had no idea what had happened and I tried explaining. I felt you put your hand on my shoulder, but it wasn't you. What the fuck? We spent the rest of the walk trying to figure out what it could have been, with one of my mom's theories being maybe a bat landed on you. What? Like, uh, maybe a bat was groping your shoulder. Fast forward a week or so, and my mom was taking the dog for a walk on the village when she bumped into a fellow dog walker neighbor. My mom mentioned the strange occurrence of the phantom hand on my shoulder on the old cart track. The friend looked unsurprised and said, oh, was that the little boy? He's buried there. It turns out that not far from where we were

was a burial site of a little boy that was buried outside of the cemetery as he had died of a communicable disease in the late 1800s. It was known that the ghost of this little boy would haunt a nearby house and the surrounding area. It was reported that he would even play with the child that lived in the house which he haunted. I have never really believed in the paranormal and even after this experience and learning of the story of the ghost boy in the area, still am a little skeptical. However, I am equally as skeptical that a hand-sized, weighty bat had randomly landed on my shoulder. So that is my National Park After Dark story.

It's not set in a National Park or After Dark, but I hope you find it spooky enough to include it in one of your Trail Tales. Enjoy the view, but watch your back for ghost children that just want a hug. Thanks for your great work, Karina. This is like the same as the last time we did at Trail Tales. Is it a ghost or is it a like tangible thing? Do you think it was the bat? No, definitely not a bat.

Bats have echolocation. They don't touch. They know. They know where you are. They know. They don't touch you. There's no, you can be in a cave full of bats in the tiniest space and they will know how to navigate around you.

There's no way a bat landed on your shoulder. It just seems like such a rant. Yeah. I don't know. I don't buy the bat thing. No, you got haunted for sure. Okay, you got haunted. Yep.

Case closed. I need like one of the gables. Yeah, a judge's gavel. Case dismissed. You got haunted. Moving on, my next one is title. The title got me. And honestly, I picked this story so long ago that I don't remember what it's about,

but I chose it. So it must be good, but I know it's the title that caught me. Okay. What's the title? We were in a van down by the river. Do you remember that? No. Are you kidding me?

The Chris Farley bit? Oh my God. We have to pause everything. Am I supposed to know this? Yeah. It's like I'm pretty sure it was like an S&L thing. Do you know who Chris Farley is, number one? Oh my God.

Googling him. It's like a very famous like SNL's bit. Oh yeah, yeah. I know who. Yeah, I know who Chris Farley is now that I see his picture. Yes. It's basically so like the van down by the river thing is like he plays this motivational speaker in this skit that like, I'm pretty sure the parents of these kids like

hire him to come down to like scare tactic them because like if you don't get on the right track, you could be living in a van down by the river. And now it's like the dream. And now it's a dream. Oh yeah. I have kind of heard that. Now it's a dream to live in a van down by the river. But I think I heard of that because of memes. I didn't know it was a... It stemmed from this. First off, probably saying to yourselves, hey, I'm going to go out and I'm going to get the world by the tail. Well, I'm here to tell you that you're probably going to find out as you go out there that you're not going to amount to jack squat. Okay, do you get the idea?

Yeah, I do. You're going to live in a van down by the river. Okay, well, I think at some point they do say, like, this woman is like, you may or may not know this reference. So 50% of us do. But now we all know it because. I just listened to it. Right.

I described it. Okay. Hey guys, my name is Chrissy. I've been listening to NPAD for about a year and I was instantly hooked. I listened to you on my way to work at a pretty well-known outdoor gear store on road trips or just sitting on my front porch at night. I can't handle some of the murdery stories, shiver, but I'm a history freak, especially Plains history in the 19th century and loved your episodes on Bouch Cassidy

and Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Growing up in Nebraska, we have plenty of history. No Natty's, but some national monuments, forests, and plenty of really cool state parks. We have some of the best rivers to canoe, kayak, and tank on, and the most diverse landscape you've never imagined Nebraska to have. Ooh, you should come, and I'll show you around. This story takes place close to some Natty's. I'm thinking that's like national parks, monuments, etc.

That's like the lingo that she's using. And we did visit Devil's Tower and Mount Rushmore on this trip. so it totally counts. I've often thought of making our epic saga into a film. Just think of every road trip movie you've seen where everything went wrong. I'm thinking Tommy Boy. Yep, that's this story. Okay, have you seen Tommy Boy?

Can we pause? Yes, I have seen Tommy Boy. Okay. I understand the reference. Okay, great. It was spring break my sophomore year in college. While most people are headed somewhere to warm to party, my friends and I made some very spontaneous plans to road trip to Glacier National

park. I was beyond stoked. Road trips are my favorite and driving up to Montana with a bunch of friends sounded like the best way to spend my break. So late that night, six of us crammed ourselves and a few meager supplies into my friend Victoria's 1980-something Chevy conversion van. Bev. Bev is an acronym. Ben Everywhere van. She was white with mob stripes around her midsection and a plush mob interior. That van was legendary. We drove with the intention of going as far as we could without stopping that night. Coming from eastern Nebraska, northwestern Montana is about a 1,200-mile trip. We drove under a clear black sky listening to music, eating snacks, and telling funny and scary

stories. Around 11 p.m., my friend Matt pulled the man over outside of Rapid City. I don't think any of us realized how far glacier was, but we were steadfast in our mission and nothing was going to stop us, except for money. Matt and the only other guy on the trip, Eric, talked for a bit and dealt us. the bad news. Even if we pulled every penny that we all had together, we weren't going to make it to Glacier, mostly because our loyal yet gas-guzzling beast Bev. Sorry, old girl, rest in peace. After coming to terms with missing out on a gorgeously fantastical mountain trip, we realized

we needed to make some slapdash plans for attractions closer and less spectacular. But college kids can't do anything hangary and tired, so we stopped at a grocery store to get some food and supplies to camp somewhere, but where? I love this story already. It's like zero planning went into this. They're like, yeah, let's go. Oh shit, we can't make it. Now what?

It was probably around 11.30 at night and the local food mart was pretty empty. Right past the automatic doors that blow that annoying poof of smelly air in your face was a large map of the area and a stand full of tourism brochures. Jackpot. We grabbed a map to find a place to camp for the night.

A good night's sleep would aid us in scouting out a new plan in the morning. Or so we thought. There was one cashier, a younger guy. As we piled our spoils onto the conveyor belt, we noticed the man ahead of us buying a lot of beer while clearly inebriated. The cashier refused his sale and the guy lost his doo-do. An awkward situation turned scary when the drunk man yelled,

I'm going home to get my gun and I'm coming back for my beer. The cashier didn't seem phased, but we wanted to get out of there. Eric asked the cashier for recommendations on a good, preferably free place to camp for. place to camp for the night. If you're thinking, it's Rapid City, there are tons of places. You'd be wrong. The cashier took us to the big map and a guy appeared telling us where we would go and pointed to a place close by. He said it was a free, popular, quote unquote, camping spot. We felt confident about our local intel and walked out to the car. Drunk band was still outside, yelling and slurring profanities at the store while very slowly walking to his car. We ran right past him, got

the van and took off. The guy at the tourism kiosk drew a route to the campsite on the map for us. For being so late at night, he was super helpful. Eric was driving. I was navigator. Turning off a windy paved road onto a dirt road, we crossed over a small wooden bridge and drove into an extremely dark and dense forested area. The road was extremely narrow. If a car came from the other direction, we'd have to pull a biggie smalls and throw it in reverse the whole way back. Not sure how many people we'll get that reference. My confidence is dwindling as we go. I don't think by your face, you know.

I know who Biggie Smalls is, but I don't understand the reference of going backwards, no. I wonder what the temperature of our audience is right now. Are they getting these references? Are they not? Are we split? Are you a Danielle or are you a Cassie? The small creek we cross now ran parallel to us,

sparkling in the moonlight, through small breaks in the thick canopy overhead. Tree branches scraped and scratched the side. of poor Bev. This was turning into a story you'd hear around a campfire at summer camp. The road dipped and curved with no signs indicating that this was a popular camping spot. A small clearing appeared ahead, but in one split second, there was light. Bright white, blinding light filled the van, and I immediately ducked under the dash lest my corneas be burnt to a crisp. A man got out of the car and walked towards my side of the car and I thought, why did the minorities in the group always get murdered first?

but it was a cop. I breathed a short-lived sigh of relief, as did my dry, unsoiled pants, and he motioned to roll the window down. He proceeded to yell at me. Put your hands in the air. Even though we had done nothing wrong, or so we thought, I was shaking.

If you knew how much of a goody two-shoes I was back then, you'd appreciate the comic irony of this situation. I do get it because I'm always the rule follower, and I am always the one to get yelled at or caught or, like, get in trouble while everyone else gets away. from the situation. See, I've always been the opposite. I've always been the one like doing stuff you're not supposed to

and not getting caught. Yeah, see, the world is unfair. So many ways. He peered in my window to the back of the van where my four friends sat, eyes as big as baseball's, not moving a muscle. One in her motorized scooter, eyes also a bulge. The rest on the rollout couch clutching grocery bags and each other. Betcha we were the last kind of crew he thought,

he'd be busting in a big white van that night. Without thinking, my hand started to slowly come down. Put your hands up where I can see them. Yes, sir. Sorry, sir, I said still shaking and raising them slightly. What are you doing out here? I need to see all of your IDs. Do you have any weapons, guns, knives, bombs, etc.?

Bombs? No joke. He really asked if we had bombs. Eric answered, in a tone so chipper, it made me wish he had been the one accosted by the cop. We don't have any weapons. We're on spring break. and he proceeded to tell the officer of our failed plans,

we're looking for a free place to camp tonight. A guy told us we could stay here. The officer replied, if that's all then, then why you, looking directly at me, duck when I turned my lights on? Where this burst of courage came from, I will never know.

But in a loud, defiant voice, I blurted out, your lights were blinding me. Oh, okay, he responded. He handed us back her IDs, undoubtedly disappointed to find the biggest bunch of nothing he'd ever expect of six teenagers to be up in an old van in the woods and let us go. Well, I suggest you kids find some reasonable lodging for the night. Those were his exact words,

and I'll never forget them. Really, dude, you think we'd be out here in an actual van down by the river. I really hope you get that reference, but if you don't, I'll attach the link below. Oh my gosh, you attached. So kind. We already found it. We already found it. If we had the money for reasonable lodging, why would we be there? Eric leaned over asking, with that same infuriating Muppet-like cheer, could we park our van in your driveway tonight? To the officer? The officer of law gave us all the final once over. He paused and then said, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, no. I had walked back to his call. I had hope for a moment that the officer was going to say yes. He just like staring at them, like, no. It's like,

Get away from me. Like, this has been the worst stop of my life. Do not come to my house. That is just the beginning of what turned out to be the most memorable trip any of us have ever been on. We still talk about it to this day years later. We decided to stay at a rest stop that night. Not exactly the safest place, but there were six of us.

Four girls with two guys, so we felt okay. And by the way, I have no idea how all six of us slept in that van with a rascal scooter. I was the first one awake, as always. The windows were fogged up. It was March, and this part of the country is still very cold. Then, hark, what was the sound? Someone was knocking on the window, but Neri a soul arose from their slumber. I shook Matt and told him, someone's knocking on the window.

Not funny, he said, and told me to go back to sleep. Again, there was a wrapping on our van door, even louder. That woke him up, and Matt rolled down the window, and who else would be standing there? It couldn't possibly be anyone else in the world, but a state trooper. Of course. He looked inside the van and, like, the last cop probably thought, what in the fresh hell have I stumbled upon? He asked if we were okay and said he had to make sure because the windows were fogged.

Per parentheses, they wrote, Bown chick a while. He also said it wasn't the safest place to sleep. Yeah, great, thanks. Woulda loved getting that critical tidbit last night. We decided to camp at Custer State Park. Oh my God. We were there.

Yeah, it's beautiful over there. Outside of Rapid City. It's gorgeous and I highly recommend it. Just not in March because you see everything is turned off until spring. No electricity, no running water, which meant no toilets. We were not prepared to camp in such conditions, but it was our only option. The park ranger thought we were a bit nuts, but saw it as an adventure. We found the best spot because we were literally the only people in the entire.

park and pitched a get ready for this four person tent remember how many of us there are six six adult humans and a four person tent how on earth did no one think about this small detail kids if you learn anything from the story it's just be prepared and have some snacks with you always that night we told stories laughed and sang songs by a warm campfire we filled ourselves with good food and gazed into a clear sky full of stars and then came sleep this is still night one I feel like I've lived a whole life. I know. Oh, no, wait.

Is it night one? Oh, yeah. Because they got woken up. They got woken up, yeah. They were at the river, and then they were at the rest stop. No, rest stop. Oh, yeah, and then Custer Saper. Jesus.

We had three sleeping bags and a few blankets to keep us warm during the 20-degree Fahrenheit night. Okay, why are you? There's six of you. Why can't some of you sleep in the van? Okay, wait, they go on. If you're thinking, why didn't some of you just sleep in the van? All right, we should just let her talk and just shut the fuck up. There wasn't enough bedding to split up, and we figured all the heat we'd radiate would keep us

toasty warm. And again, we were wrong. I prayed to God that I wouldn't have to pee during the night because all they had were pit toilets, which I loathe, and it was pitch black outside, not to mention freezing cold. Later that night, it started to rain. Rain turned to thunderstorms, lightning, and thunder crashing and flashing all. all around us. Rain turned to hail and hail turned to snow.

We didn't expect that when we opened the door of the tent that morning. Everything would be covered in soft, white blanket of snow. One afternoon, a park ranger came to ask us, since we were the only suckers in the park if he could give us a tour. He was so nice. He drove us around on the back of his flat bed

and showed us where several old Western movies were filmed. He found a mountain lion kill and told us about their hunting behaviors, how they travel in one mile radius around animal carcasses before eating it. He even let us help him feed the herd of buffalo that roam the park. Disclaimer, we were helping the ranger push hay bales off the back of his truck. We weren't Torons feeding them whatever remnants of candy bars or lost nuggies found in the seat cracks.

Do not feed animals in any parks. Okay? Once again, we started the next day by unzipping what seemed to be the tent flap to Narnia, totally unaware of the next National Lampoon's vacation-type-style situation, was awaiting us outside. The same giant buffalo were pawing our tent one morning. Really guys? We're the only humans in the entire park and you all

think the tastiest shoots of frozen grass are the one sticking out from under our 10. There are so many great trips from our epic spring break trip. Like when the ranger told us we could feed the donkeys in the park. Eric was driving the van and a donkey came up to the window. He put a baby carrot in his mouth and the donkey got way more

than they both bargained for. We teased Eric days later when a massive cold or erupted on his lip. We still tell everyone he got herpes from making out with a donkey in South Dakota. There are more hilarious stories I'm forgetting, but I'll keep it short. This is Trail Tales, not Trail Tales, a Netflix series.

I can't remember when it dawned on who, but at some point during the trip, we realized something creepy. Relish this, ladies, because it's the only really scary part of the story you're going to get. So the guy at the store who gave us the bogus intel on the free popular campsite,

What if he was trying to lead us down a desolate, secluded area so he'd go there and rob us, or worse? Like I said, he was way too excited to talk to a bunch of college kids at midnight about camping. As wild and annoying as the interaction was with the cop, what if the big guy upstairs had sent him there to protect us and get us the hell out of there? Maybe it's silly and he was just a nice guy, but after hearing some trail tales, I don't think that's a crazy theory. There's no such thing as coincidences, right? I'm glad someone was watching our back that night. Love and Peace, Chrissy. Well, that was a train wreck of an adventure and also a story to tell forever.

Yeah, I'm unsure of how long you were actually there, like all set and done. You lived like seven lifetimes in that trip. Because from what I gathered, it was their whole spring break and they said each day was different. Did you go resupply elsewhere? Did you just rough it with what you had? Like, there are unanswered questions. Many. A trail tale for another time.

I actually, my story also takes place in Badlands National Park. Oh, okay. Mine's titled Nightfall in the Badlands. Hey, I'm Kayla. I'm sure you've heard this many times before, but I'm a huge fan of the podcast and so excited to have recently joined your outsider's community. Ever since I listened to my first Trail Tales episode, I knew I had to write a story in. Strap in.

This experience in the Badlands National Park is a wild ride that really shook my world. I haven't shared this with many people and hope it will be shared on the podcast. It was late May of 2021 and two of my friends from college and I took a trip to the Badlands that truly brought us together. We hadn't really seen each other in a few years and we were drawn to the idea of escaping our day-to-day lives in Chicago to see some plants and rocks beyond the skyscrapers of our home city. Myself and my two gal pals Sarah and Kara found ourselves camping in the backcountry of the Badlands,

some miles away from the Kanada picnic area. Something that's special about the badlands is that you are totally alone. When you leave the roads and paved trails, among the fields of prairie dogs and lost in the towering land formations, the land is quiet and scarce of any signs of human life. There were no other campers at the parking lot, and when we left, we were miles away from any road or trail, and we scouted the area from a high point

with no signs of any people, cars, or camps for miles. After a day that felt like a dream, full of laughter, trail friends, flower crowns, and prairie dogs, we laid on a rock near our camp for some stargazing. Nestled between the rugged towering terrain, we were high on life. The expansive badlands surrounded us, casting their commanding presence across the horizon. It was just us, on a little rock and the whole beautiful world enveloping us, with our eyes set on the Milky Way. We fixated on the twinkling sky and ballet of shooting stars, chatting about our lives,

dreams and how much this world had to offer. It felt magical. Among all of this, a luminous white light emerged over the horizon. We pointed it out and noted it resembled a star, but felt closer and had a more radiating glow. It was slowly and gradually moving across the sky, and we immediately waved it off to be a plane, satellite, or drone of some sort. It stood out a bit. But then, in a mesmerizing moment, we saw it. The glowing light started to skip and dart around the sky in any direction. It seemed to be teleporting across the sky moving so fast in different directions that the human eye couldn't catch it. We were shocked and covered in goosebumps. We all cut our view away from the glow and locked our eyes, jaws dropped, only to look back up. We watched the light

dance. It would take moments to stop and slowly glide along as I had done when we first saw it and then randomly zip around again. Glide, zip, glide, zip, zip, zip, zip, glide, zip. We couldn't stop staring. watched for over 20 minutes until it just casually disappeared on the other side of the horizon just as it had entered. What the fuck? Caught in a speechless wonder, we struggled to rationalize the zipping glowing light. The light part could be explained in a number of ways, but the peculiar movements it made was something beyond our understanding and experience.

It seemed to effortlessly traverse the sky almost as if it were teleporting. Despite the uncertainty of what we saw, one thing felt really clear to us. Whatever we had witnessed, we weren't supposed to see. I couldn't shake that feeling. It was very intense and the mood shifted to something a lot more chilling. Now I know what you're thinking. I was never a believer of UFOs. I've always figured that all sightings could be explained by planes, weather, balloons, drones, etc.

There is a lot of shit in the sky and it's absurd to think that any regular Joe can point at something up there and instantly know if it's human or quote unquote alien. People love stories and mysteries. But from a rational standpoint, what we witnessed was quite literally, one, unidentified by us, two, flying, and three, an object. Call it what you will. I can confirm its movements were that of something we've never seen before. Unnatural to our personal human experience. Eerie as it was, the night went on. It lingered in our minds, but we continued our evening. As the night got late, we retreated to the cozy confines of our three-person tent. Opting to leave the rain cover off,

we snuggled under the stars. Sarah and Kara had already done. drifted off to a peaceful sleep and I was on the brink of dozing off. Then, without warning, my tranquility was shattered at the noise of slow, heavy footsteps just inches from my head, right outside the tent. Stardled and alert, I shot awake and grabbed Kara next to me. I couldn't see anything hovering over us through the mesh top, but we both felt a presence on the other side of the nylon walls and heard the ominous steps circle us. The footsteps were heavy and sounded like something large. This was no prairie dog. Absolutely fucking terrified, Kara and I locked eyes in silence. Our dumb asses decided to go alone into the backcountry as three girls with no form of self-protection.

No form, that is, except for a literal hairbrush shank. Yes, a hairbrush that if you pull the handle secretly has a shiv knife under the brush, and it's pink. I've attached a picture for reference. What? I think that's the most clever one. weapon, by the way. The problem was Sarah, who was still sleep, had the pink hairbrush knife with her in her sleeping bag, and she wasn't waking up without a show. Oh my God, guys, we have to get out of the tent. She mumbled in her sleep, in her sleeping bag, in the tent. Kara dove on to Sarah, reaching into your sleeping bag, grabbing the knife and handing it to me. You know how people say you never know if you have a fight or flight response until it happens to you? I learned in this moment. As soon as I

had that bright pink shiv in my hands, I shot up ready to attack. Nothing. Heart racing, I turned on my headlamp and frantically looked around. Nothing. We did a quick walk around and there was no one and no animal near us. Needless to say, it was really hard to sleep that night. In the morning, the sunshine breathed life back into the atmosphere and brought a renewed sense of joy. The ground was dry and we never found any footprints or signs of our late night visitor. We also never resolved an explanation for the zippity light that gave us a show in the sky. Are they connected? We'll never know. The lingering feeling that we witnessed something that we were not supposed to stayed for a while. I was nervous for weeks, something I typically don't feel. Camping became a struggle as I would stay awake and tense, anxiously listening for any appearance of footsteps. It was a jarring experience and hard to explain to friends and family without appearing insane. I've attached a video we took up the glowing light. It's not great, but you can see that it shows in the video. While the camera couldn't capture the lights of any of the surrounding stars. I've also attached a video I discovered on the internet that looks almost exactly what we saw

that night. It gives me chills. I've traveled far and wide and while the national parks have so much to offer, there is something that's so special about the Badlands. It's unparalleled. While I have no desire to ever see anything strange in the sky or hear ominous footsteps again, I hope to someday return to Badlands National Park. Kay. So what I'm gathering from this is that Kay and her friends were about to shank an alien with a hairbrush. Definitely. You're about to murder an alien. With a bright pink hairbrush.

And I know that this story was written in like a little while ago before the whole release of the government disclosing that aliens are real. So surprise, you didn't, you know. They're real. They're real. None of us are shocked, though. I just love that the world was like, yeah, they announce their aliens and everyone's just responds, by being like, yep, we know. So is our, is the prices of gas going to go down soon?

Like, anyways. Anyway, idiots. We're aware. Got it. Thanks for nothing. Yeah. It's like this was a waste of my time. We knew.

But also I love this story in the bad lands. I say, I've said this so many times on the podcast, but Badlands National Park blew my mind. It is one of those parks that I really, really enjoyed more than I expected to. and I had no idea that South Dakota was hiding such a gym, and I would definitely go back there. I think it's because it was unexpected when we went. Yeah, it was like I knew it was going to be pretty, but then we got there.

And everything was wowing and beautiful, and the sunset there was probably one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen. It was just, it was very magical. There's something about the badlands for sure. I agree. All right, my last story is on the shorter side, but it is pretty heavy, just so we're all aware. It is titled, I Got My Sign.

Hi, Danielle and Cassie. You two have been a staple in my daily podcast listening for probably a year now. Thank you for your thoughtful and well-written stories. I thoroughly enjoy listening to you, and I'm so sad to say, like you, Danielle, I now know what it's like to lose a significant other. On Friday, May 26, 2023, my wonderful boyfriend Bill experienced a heart attack, and by Sunday, the doctors told us he, had had a stroke and didn't have any brain activity. He was an organ donor and saved three lives

and he was kept on life support for another day and ended up passing on Monday Memorial Day. My world was and still is shaken. A little backstory. Before Bill, I was married for 11 years and that was an emotionally, mentally, and sexually abusive relationship. He was so forceful in his beliefs that if I had a different perspective, I was told I was wrong and forced to adjust my beliefs. One of the beliefs I was not allowed was to believe in connections to the afterlife. My mom passed away in 2019 and I was not allowed to feel like she was there with me and supporting me. I always felt so lost and lonely not being allowed to feel like my mom was with me. Fast forward to meeting Bill.

He taught me how it felt to be respected and that it's okay to have differing opinions. The amount of compassion he showed me was exactly what I needed moving forward in my personal healing after divorce. So when I say that my world has been shaken since he passed, it's really flipped upside down. The day after Bill passed, I decided to go on a solo hike in the Castlewood Canyon State Park in Colorado. This was the first hike that Bill and I did together. Since now I'm allowed to believe in communicating with loved ones who have passed, before I started on the hike, I decided to ask Bill for a sign that he was with me.

I wasn't specific with what I wanted, just really hoping anything would spark a memory of him, and I'd call that my sign. I followed the same trail we did and really just took my time enjoying the warmth of the sun and the beautiful blue skies. I decided to take a little break and found a pretty tree to sit under so I could cry and talk to Bill when what seemed like out of nowhere, not one, but two beautiful butterflies appeared. They were so in sync flying together and then landed on a little plant near me and just hung out with me for a few minutes. It was Bill. I instantly felt a huge wave of emotion like he was showing me that we were still a pair. I felt like he was telling me to continue on my healing path and know it's okay to feel

what I feel. It's okay to feel signs from someone that has passed. In the months since he passed away, I felt him and my mom on several occasions. I'm forever grateful that he has guided me in my understanding of believing what I want to believe. I've been listening to NPAD backwards and I knew Ian's episode was coming. Well, the day of Bill's funeral was when it came for me. I couldn't bring myself to listen to it because it was too hard. Fast forward to today, I decide it was my day to put it on and I'm so glad I did. Listening to your fun stories about Ian and the sadness in your voice when you talked about receiving his passport made me feel less alone, as I keep coming across things that we were supposed to do together that bring up those same exact feelings. You talked about the

impact Ian had on everyone in his life. Bill's impact on my life and everyone he knew was huge. So thank you for sharing your deeply personal loss and all the amazing stories on the pod. Enjoy the view, but watch your back because you never know when butterflies might appear, Anna. I love that story. I love it because not only is it extremely similar to my story with Ian, but also that like Bill came along for her and gave her a new sense of like life and confidence that it's okay to be. believe in what you want to believe in. And there is a world after darkness, obviously with somebody that wasn't right for her and didn't align with her beliefs and things like that. And just like, I don't know. I just really, Bill showed her what life could be. And I love that. Even if he was

only in her life for a brief amount of time and not enough time. He was a really important part of her life. Yeah, exactly. So I just really liked it. And just like believe what you want to believe. Who cares? If it brings you peace and what you need, then go for it. I don't care what it is that you believe in. Like, obviously everyone knows my stance on that. It's pretty firm.

But I don't know. I just, I loved that story. Everyone has deeply personal stories of loss and connection that they send in. And I love reading them. I read every single one. I just don't share every single one because this isn't an afterlife podcast. But anyways. It is nice to see how connected people feel and that the episode that you put out of Ian is

helping people feel more comfortable talking about their journey with loss as well. And to feel comfortable enough to write it into the podcast, I think is huge. So we, I think I speak one for both of us when I say like thank you guys for sharing all of this with us. It means a lot to us. And we feel really grateful that you feel like you have a safe space with us. And not only with us, but with other, I mean, like, there's so many people who share stories that may begin with, like, thanking me for sharing things about Ian and my journey. But then they'll be like, and then after hearing other people's experiences, it gave me the confidence to do X, Y, and Z.

So it's not just about us. It's about everybody helping everyone else, which is just the best. So, and obviously, Anna goes without saying our hearts go out to you. Yeah. Do you have an uplifting one to end on? My story is titled Moose are Real, but are Bears, signs for the smoky mountains and beyond. The beginning starts off a little sad. Okay, but as long as we're in an upswing.

Okay. I don't know. Dear Cassie and Danielle, hello, fellow lovers of the outdoors. Your podcast was recommended to me last summer, and I have binged and loved all episodes. In particular, I really enjoy trail tales because they demonstrate. the vast array of experience that awaits us in the wild. As most outdoor people, I have many adventure stories, but choose to share this one because it was your podcast that inspired me to ask for signs.

I asked, and boy, did I ever receive. Let me start with a thank you to Danielle. I was five months deep into the throes of grief over the loss of my mother and just starting therapy when you lost Ian. I want you to know you have helped so many navigate the bumpy road in healing. I paid very close attention when you spoke about asking for you. signs. I also want to thank you, Cassie. Thank you for normalizing, exploring the outdoors while dealing with medical issues. I have chronic autoimmune conditions and have been questioned about whether

or not I was really, quote unquote, sick because I have continued to be active. But as a wise hiker once told me, you don't stop moving when you get old. You get old when you stop moving. So let's move onto the trail tail. That's such good advice. Wow. It is really good advice. And also, I've also had that question of like, oh, you can't be that sick. You're out hiking. And it's like, yeah, I'm out here, but I'm literally in kidney failure. I know I don't look like it, but I'm on a machine every night to stay alive. So I really can resonate with, oh, you're not that sick. It's just kind of a reminder to not judge a book by its cover just because people look like they're okay. Doesn't mean that they are. 100%. And not to question them if they say that they're not okay.

Yeah, you don't have to visually be like, I hate when people do that shit, especially just in like a very outsider. Like, obviously I don't know what it's like in your position, but just witnessing it. The most I see it is with when someone has a handicap pass for the parking lot and people give them shit if they just walk out of their car. Instead of being in like a wheelchair or an assisted walking, you know, something like that. They're like, why do you need that? It's like, it's not your business. Right. Exactly. I clearly have it for a reason. Just like shut up and move on with your day. Walk the extra

minute. Like come on. Oh, God. Yeah. Anyway. Anyway. My late mother, Evelyn Mararek, is the center of the tail. She was born in Germany to Polish Holocaust survivors. Growing up as a young pole in post-war Germany was not easy. She left Europe in 1983 with my sister and me, a suitcase and two small bags for each of her daughters. She had a destination in mind, but no guaranteed place to do. day and no money to return to Europe. We made the trip across the ocean. I was five and my sister seven and landed in New York with a view of the Statue of Liberty. I know she was probably scared, but I have always viewed my mom as an incredibly fearless woman. In December of 2021, I had not heard from her in a few days. I paid her to clean my house on Fridays and when I got home,

I saw that she had not been there yet. I just knew something was dreadfully wrong. I flew down my porch stairs and yelled at my husband that I was going to check on my mom as I tore out of the driveway. It was the longest 10-minute drive of my life. When I pulled up her mountain road, I saw her car in the driveway. I had a deep feeling of dread and knowing creep into my soul. I ran onto the front porch and pounded on the door. I noticed the light was on in the living room and cut my hands around my face as I plastered it to the window. What I saw will forever haunt me. On the couch was my mother's lifeless body and by the condition of her face, I knew she was gone. I don't know. I don't know the order of what happened next. I found myself on my ass on the porch with a loud buzzing and

spinning in my head. I know at some point I talked to the 911 operator, my sister and my husband. My life became a blur. The strongest woman I had ever known was gone. She was only 65. We knew she would want an outside memorial so the frigid Arkansas winters and humid summers were not conducive to have her celebration of life. We waited until September of 2022. The memorial was in a park next to the White River in the Boston Mountains just a few minutes from her home. Danielle, I remember you saying you have to be very specific when asking for a sign. For months, I talked to my mom and told her to send me a cardinal at her memorial. The day came and I was so busy making sure everything was perfect that I almost forgot about it.

My sister and I were the last people in the park and as we loaded my car, I looked around one last time for that red bird. Nata. Damn it. I got in the car and on the passenger seat was a gift bag. As we were driving off, I told my sisters to look in it. It was a gift from a dear friend who lost her father years prior and would often talk about signs he sent. The gift was a heart-shaped plaque with three red cardinals on it. I absolutely lost it.

I'm including a picture so you can read the whole thing, but it starts off by saying, as I sit in heaven and watch you every day, I try and let you know with signs I never went away. Oh my God. That's amazing. My heart was full. My mom was with me. and she had been with me the whole time. I learned that signs might not play out exactly as you expect,

but you will be gifted with them when you ask. This trail tale doesn't end here. The greatest sign was yet to come. I had plans to spread part of my mother's ashes in the Great Smoky Mountains on the same hike we did as a family in 2011. The hike was set for June 2023 and my sister was joining me. I started asking for a sign in the form of a bear. It might interest you to know that my trail name is bear karma,

not because I attract bears, but because I repel them. I've spent many nights in the backcountry of the Smokies, which has a density of two bears per square mile and never had my bear encounter. I dreamed of seeing bears. I cursed others who saw bears. I wanted my bear. Of course, my mother was happy about my lack of success because she was always worried about when attacking me.

So when I asked for the sign, I told her, I know you will send it in a way that is safe. The first morning in the park, we were going to drive the clingman's dome because my sister, had never been. However, newfound gap road, the only road access to our destination, was closed due to a mudslide. We pivoted and did some day hikes on the side of the park we were staying. It was getting to be late afternoon and we started to return to camp. On our way, I saw a park ranger make a U-turn at the gate to newfound gap road and I told my sister, he's about to open the gate and no one will be at Klingsman Dome right now. Let's go. The normally packed road was ours to share with two other cars. And then there they were. Not one, but two large cubs playing on the side of the road just a few feet away.

I was losing my mind as I slowly inched my way past them. My sister later told me that when we saw the park ranger open the gate, she silently asked mom for a bear. There they were, two cubs without their mother. But they had each other, just like my sister and I had one another on this beautiful journey through my favorite national park. There is no way we would have seen them that time of day if the road had not been closed, because normally it gets so busy with cars. The next day, we did our hike to spread her ashes. I had expected my bear on the hike, but once I saw how crowded the trail was, I understood why my mother had to shut down the only north-slash-south road in the most visited National

Park to give us our bears. She always did such badass things. I hope you enjoy my trail tale of signs, and it is my sincere wish that if you share this with your listeners, it gives comfort and hope to those who are grieving the loss of someone they love. Keep up the wonderful work and remember, enjoy the view, but watch for signs. They are all around us. Sincerely, bear karma. That was a good one to end on. I feel good. Yeah. Two bear cubs. Oh, what, what a trail tale episode. And we're not done because we have two more for our outsiders. So stick around outsiders. If you're not part of our outsiders crew, you can find us on Patreon or

Apple subscriptions. Go check us out. We do have two more and they're fun. So in the meantime, everyone, enjoy the view. But watch you're back. 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 npaddpodcast.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. 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

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