National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 40

Episode Date: December 21, 2023

Today’s stories include horsey adversaries, near death experiences, best burro friends, ghostly smells, unseen predators, suddenly appearing underwear and playing dead. 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!Miracle Made: Use our link and code NPAD to save over 40% and get 3 free towels.Earth Breeze: Use our link got get 40% off when you subscribe.CoPilot: Use our link mycopilot.com/NPAD to get a 14-day FREE trial AND 20% off your first month of personalized fitness if you sign up before February 1st!MasterClass: Use our link to gift a membership and get one free. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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Limitless. Now open your eyes. Go to Monday.com. Start for free and finally. Breathe. Girl, winter is so last season. And now spring's 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 have another fun trail tales for you all today.

Last one of the year. I know. This year has gone by so fast. We're heading into 2004. I can't believe it. It's my lucky number 24. So let's get this shit together. Like, I need a good year. Yeah. Yeah, you should. It better be a good year. I have good feelings about it. Yeah. Well, we have a lot of exciting trips planned for next year and a lot of projects and stuff that we're working on and there's good things coming. So let's just keep that in mind. Yeah, we've got a lot of things for the podcast in mind, our personal lives in mind. So we're excited. And thanks to everyone for hanging out with us this whole year, too. Yeah. We had a lot of newcomers, I feel like. Yeah, we definitely did. According to Spotify wrapped, we had 56% of our listeners were new this year. So hello and thank you. And of course, thanks. Hello to all the OG people who have been here since we sounded like we were

underwater that we appreciate you as well. Yeah. I can't believe you can understand us. Yeah. Times have they though? We just struggled for the last like 15 minutes with us. We did just re-record our audio because I was on the wrong mic the whole time. So yeah. So has much changed. I'm not sure. Would you want me to go first or sure? Okay. My first story is titled unexpected adversaries in Teddy Roosevelt National Park. Hey there ladies. The kids, my two boys, eight and twelve, I love your podcast. We love adventuring to national parks and public lands together and listening while road tripping. My first job out of high school was as an National Park Service Interpretation Ranger guiding tours, so I'm a parkie at heart from the start. This story takes place in 2022 in Theodore Roosevelt National Park.

Let me first just say this is our favorite national park because it offers so much in diversity through the landscape and animals and it's not overrun by humans. We enjoy the longhorn herd and the history of our collective favorite former president. After spending three nights in Madora, we had been exploring various trails and drives and many adventures in the park each day. We had snagged our junior ranger badges and spent a good chunk of mom's paycheck in the gift shop because I'm a sucker for outdoor themed gift shop books and swag and my kids are too. It can't be just us. This has to be a fatal flaw of all park enthusiasts, right? Yes, absolutely. Yes, 100% yes. On the last morning of our trip, the boys and I set out for an early morning drive in the south unit of the park.

Coffee in hand, the youngest kids still in pajamas, we were among a handful of visitors out in the early dawn hours. We drove several miles to what would culminate in an out and back road since the loop was under construction that summer at about the midway point around the park road. On the very short boy court overlook trail, which was mostly visible from the road, we encountered a lone older man with white hair. He had a tall stature and broad shoulders, Maybe I listened to too many listener tales and my true crime brain is ever on alert. Maybe not. I just knew in looking out across the North Dakota badlands from where we stood on the trail, it was a vast countryside, and not a place I wanted to be lost or held captive if he did have

ill intentions. So I ushered the kids back to the car, which was in sight, and we hurried back down the trail, me trying to be casual and cool, them clueless about my gut feeling to leave. It was an out and back trail, paved, and not much more than a quarter mile. I glanced over my shoulder a few times as we hoofed it back. I noted the make, model, and color of the man's truck in the parking lot, and we left, hoping to leave the creepy feeling and him in the rear view. A little further down the road, several minutes and miles, I'd guess, we saw a lone Toyota pulled over with a younger couple and some camera gear unloading.

The area was flat with lots of little trails and areas that looked well traveled from the parking pullout. Since there were people there, I figured it was a good spot to bring my kiddos to stretch our legs in the muted morning light with the rocks reflecting pink, pale yellow, and cream colors in the sun. After the creeps from the older gentleman, the Nat Geo vibe I got from the couple in their Toyota with the Colorado plates was comforting, and I had no qualms about leaving the car to enjoy some fresh air. We set off down a small dirt path, slowly. It should be noted that we dally. We don't death march when we hike. I can't relate. We're different types of hikers, but we hike together anyway. We look at flowers, take pictures, sit on rocks, we take our sweet time.

My younger son was mad at me for something and cranky from the early morning. He was carrying his nine-inch wooden Bowie knife that he had purchased at a gas station in eastern North Dakota. It reminded me a bit of a pirate buccaneer sword, and it wasn't unusual for him to tote some random belonging with him on our adventures. My older son was out in front and then suddenly froze, mid-trail. I got the same liquid ice feeling in my veins as I looked past him to clock what he was stopping for. Part of the reason we love this park is the many wild animals that call the place home. My brain raced to find the correct mental flash card to identify the silhouette at the moment. My mind quickly flipped through the threats. Bear? No. Cougar? No. Bison? No. This was all happening in the span of a second or two.

I'm sure. I looked behind me. My son was still angrily ambling behind, unaware that we had stopped ahead of him. He was about 30 yards behind me. Come here, I hissed at him, while simultaneously landing on the ID of the peril ahead. It wasn't the man who creeped me out on the trail before. How could I have forgotten about the wild horses that make the park their home? Now the photography equipment of the Colorado couple made sense. They must have taken a different dirt path out on this small group of horses. I panned my gaze to the right and saw them, crouched behind a long lens, surely zoomed in on this majestic steed and his harem, a shot we no doubt had sullied for them. The horses were clipping and clopping towards us. If you've ever spent any time around these beasts, you know by their ears and the dead-eye stare when they are pissed. This horse was not happy to see me and my kids. Looking around, the couple wasn't saying or doing anything some 75 yards away.

I didn't want to turn my back to a much faster mammal and risk being overrun from behind and trampled. Nearby off the trail, there was a bush about six feet tall. I told my older son, quick, to that bush, and he quickly obeyed, seeing the horses charging forth and calmly speedwalked into the bush. I grabbed the hand of my younger son and sort of walked, dragged him along with me to the bush as well. I was hopeful the horses just wanted an escape route down the trail, and once we removed ourselves as an obstacle that they would. would just ignore our intrusion. We had a wooden bowie knife. I could only imagine the headlines about a mom trying to defend her children in a national park with a wooden toy sword, printed right next to the idiots who load up bison calves into vans at Yellowstone. I worked for the park service at

one point, for goodness sake. This could not be the way I was meant to die. We'd say that all the time. Like, it would be bad for the brand. It's like, we can't do this. It would be bad for the brand. The horses by some miracle did not give chase. I'm hopeful to the Colorado photographers don't have any photos of me and my kids crouched behind a bush wielding a toy knife. If you're listening, we're sorry for disrupting your photo shoot. We waited for a few minutes, hopeful that the coast was clear to get back to the car. Upon returning to the dirt path, I thought about how you're not supposed to leave the trail when you're in parks, and I felt some shame. I then thought about all the cacti we'd narrowly

missed stepping on, and fleetingly thought about how close we may have been to stopping on a rattlesnake in our haste. Back in the car, we turned around at Buck Hill Overlook. At the top of the hill was the truck, and in it, the creepy man from before the near-death horse encounter. I didn't wave or stop to look at the view. I'd had enough for one morning and wasn't going to tempt fate. We drove back to the park entrance to find some breakfast, the kids jabbering the whole way about our horse experience. Thankfully, we were just fine on all accounts. We even went for a horseback ride in Madora, though with a stable and not anywhere that we would encounter the wild horse herd.

This is still our favorite park and one of our favorite memories of that trip. My hypervigilance was probably to the point of being comical, but it was just a great reminder of how even soft adventures can unravel into crazy near-mist stories very quickly. Remember to enjoy the view, but watch your back. You never know when you may encounter terror in the form of an oversized herbivore on the trail. That's a fun trail. It's fun too because I've also been to this park and I didn't have an encounter like that with the horses, but I probably did go to the same horse stall for a horseback ride around the area.

It's like right outside the park and I think that there's only kind of a couple. So we might have been at the same one. It's interesting. I think I picked this, old me picked this story. I mean, I chose these stories, I think months ago at this point. But because we've never had anyone write in about wild horses and encountering them. And they shouldn't be underestimated. Definitely not.

As someone who was a horse girl, like even, you know, I have no experience with wild horses. But, yeah, they can be feisty and scary. And you don't think about that. You're like, they're a horse. Like, what are they going to do? Yeah. A lot. I mean, for the most part, horses are docile.

But in the wild, if they feel threatened, they're huge animals. You know, they're wild animals at the end of the day, you know. Yeah. And they can pack a kick. for sure. You don't want to get bit by one either, even though their teeth are flat, their jaws are strong. I got bit so bad. Like when I was, when I used to live in Colorado the first time, I was doing stable work for this woman, Brenda, who had, who competitively did barrel racing, and she had three horses. The stable was like as big as my childhood home. Like, she's like a

multimillionaire. And these horses are treated like gold. I was mucking out the stall and it was in the dead of winter so I was layered up in car hearts and stuff so that saved me but I was mucking out the stall of this one horse her name is Sierra and she Brenda had warned me when I first got hired she's like she can be a brat just watch out for her and I never had had a problem with her and then all of a sudden she was just in a mood and I could tell earlier that day and she was like acting fine like da da da and then I turned my back and on her and she whipped around and she bit my butt so hard so hard so fast too like lightning and then was like if i wasn't yeah she was like oh she like looked out like like what the opposite direction

literally she did it was like you little shit and if i wasn't wearing all those layers of car heart she would have taken a chunk out of me like i had a giant bruise on my butt for weeks Oh, I bet. They are strong. They're so strong. They're huge. That's so funny. Anyways. Anyway, thank you for writing in that story. It was fun to hear. 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.

point and more. Slow burns, second chances, chemistry you can feel through the screen. Your next obsession is waiting. Watch only on Prime. My story is titled, Denali National Parks, Mount Healy Trail, and my rescue after my near-death experience. Hi, my name is Manny. Firstly, thank you, thank you, thank you. You ladies, Cassie, Danielle, and Josephine have awoken me in a desire for the outdoors that lay dormant in me for most of my six. By the way, Josephine is my daughter. Josephine introduced me to your podcast in August of 2021. I live in North Carolina and I was visiting her in Washington State.

She was driving us north to Vancouver, British Columbia since I had never been to Canada. On the way there, we listened to NPAD episode 30, the Bamp Springs Hotel, and then episode 27, Mount St. Helen and Harry Truman. A classic forever favorite. I was hooked and have been a loyal listener since. Josephine is also a huge fan and tried unsuccessfully to join your first Alaska trip. Oh, I'm sorry. But she was so inspired, she decided to plan her own trip to Alaska.

My daughter is an avid hiker, so the PNW is like a playground to her. But she also traveled abroad on her hikes, Hawaiian volcanoes, Machu Picchu and the Inca ruins, and last year, Chile and Patagonia. But this Alaska trip was going to be very different. For the first time, I was invited. I was both excited and terrified. I hadn't been camping for a long time since about 1968. I had a year to save up and shape up. You see, I'm older, 62, overweight, 22 pounds when I started, and definitely not in shape. So I started walking and then jogging at one point about 15 miles a week and I started hiking. I lost 20 pounds and I increased my stamina. I was ready. group of five were Josephine, my son-in-law David, and their friends Joe and Robin. I was 21 years older than the oldest of those four. We arrived at our campsite in Denali National Park, and rather than unpack and

pitch camp, Josephine wanted to hike. She chose the Mount Healy Trail, a two and a half mile out and back trail with a 2,500 foot elevation. Josephine may have overestimated, or most likely, I oversold how good of a shape I was in. From the parking lot to about the 3 fourth mile mark is fairly flat. But after that, well, that's where the real story starts. I had two liters of water with me and kept a close eye on my smart watch slash heart rate. Initially, I was doing great. I was keeping a decent pace and my heart rate was steady at about 110. About a mile and a quarter in, the incline had really increased. My heart rate was starting to spike in the 160s and I was needing to take breaks. But I just didn't. When I decided to join this trip, I had only one fear that I wasn't going to be able to keep up,

and I would end up ruining everyone's trip. Josephine knew I needed breaks and made me stop, rest and drink. But all I could think about, I'm slowing everyone down. I would let my heart rate get down to 130 and then soldier on. Josephine even jumped ahead of me on the trail to force me to slow my pace. As my heart rate began running a steady 165, we hit the two mile mark and I hit a wall. I sat on a boulder, drank the last of my first liter of water and told the others to leave me here and go on. It was only another 10 to 15 minutes more to the top. My daughter sat next to me. I looked at her and said, I don't feel too good and blacked out.

Josephine is a nurse, so she kind of knows when something is wrong, and it was very wrong. From my end, it felt like I simply took a nap. I woke up, noticed I was flat on my back, and the leaves from a small bush in my face and was looking up at a beautiful sky. When I tried to sit up, Josephine looked at me and sternly said, No, I saw a stranger standing in front of me on his phone, he was on the dissent, saw what happened, and initiated 911. The Good Samaritan was Mark, a law enforcement officer who we found out later,

had his campsite just across from ours. But I felt fine and told everyone so. Josephine looked at me and I saw it in her eyes. She was scared. She said I had slump forward and was grunting, having agonal respirations, guppy breaths, not a good sign. She and David laid me back on the boulder. Josephine did a sternal rub, a painful rub to the chest bone used to elicit a response.

It didn't, also not a good sign. Check for a pulse. Found none. Also not a good sign. And started CPR. After four or five compressions I came to. I was dead on that mountain. Yes, only for a few seconds, but technically dead.

I laid there on that boulder for another hour because that's how long it took for the first responders to get there. The U.S. Park Service got there first. They asked questions, got vital signs, and checked my sugar. I'm diabetic. Everything checked out good and they helped me sit up. Within seconds, I felt dizzy again and I laid back down on that boulder. Tri-Valley EMS got there about that time. My vitals were rechecked. My blood pressure had fallen 35 points for the previous. From a systolic of 145 to a systolic of 110, orthostatic hypotension, a very good indication of dehydration. There was no they were going to let me walk down. The Denali volunteer rescue team was on the way up with a litter to take me down. By the time they made it up about another hour and a half later, I was able to

sit up and drink that second liter of water. EMS had started an IV and put ice packs on my head and behind my neck to cool me down. One of the rescuers had a backpack of cold Gatorade. I sucked down another 500 milliliters in one drink. One of the Rangers, Jim, talked me through the plan. He described the litter as a wire casket with a wheel on the bottom. Seriously, a casket, I said. You're describing that thing as a coffin? As I was getting strapped in, Jim asked, how's that feel flat? You know, Count Dracula? That pretty much set the tone for the two-hour trip down. In all, there were 15 people up on that mountain for me. It was hot, it was sunny, and I knew as hard as it had been, it had been tough for them too. I was worried more about them than myself, but the jokes and light banter never stopped.

I told as many dad jokes as I could remember. What happens to bad rainbows? They go to prisms. Why does the Swedish Navy put bar codes on the holes of their ship? So they can Scandinavian and so much worse. As they navigated the litter down, talking, coordinating with their own occasional jokes tossed in, I was safely brought down the trail. Once at the bottom, I was led into the ambulance, had my vitals checked again, and given a leader of IV fluids.

The lead paramedic, I forgot his name, said he didn't feel I needed to go to the ER, but left the decision to me. I don't think it's up to me. Your daughter? Yep. Josephine agreed, but wanted to put me up in a hotel for the night. The paramedic looked at me and said, up to you, emergency room or hotel. I chose hotel.

As she got me checked in, she looked at me and said, guess you got a trail tail. Guess I do. Oh, my God. Not how this is supposed to happen. Yeah. No. No. It's just so bizarre to think that someone, like, had that conversation. Like, you just died and you're like, well, now I have a story to tell. I got a trail to.

No. Thank you for telling us, but stay safe. But no. We spent three nights in Denali, two more in Seward, and one in Anchorage to complete our trip. I saw glaciers, ice floats, caribou, sea lions, a whale, and bald eagles. Didn't see moose, but moose aren't real. So no big deal there. It was an adventure of a lifetime. A lifetime that was almost cut short, if not for her Josephine, the Park Service, Tri-Valley EMS, and Denali Volunteer Rescue Team. I wish I could remember everyone's name that climbed that mountain for me, but I remember a few.

Jim from the Park Service, Megan and Miranda from the Tri-Valley EMS, and Jordan from the Denali Volunteer Rescuers. And a special thanks to Joe, my campmate. He hiked up that trail, then down to lead the park rangers up. I couldn't do that hike once. Joe did it twice. And of course, the most special daughter a dad could have. I've always been proud of the person she's become. She's a best friend, but now I can say she's a lifesaver, my hero. Alaska is beautiful. And despite what happened the first day, it was just about the happiest I've ever been. I'll continue to visit and hike the nearby Blue Ridge and Appalachian Parks and trails and wander and wonder at nature's beauty. And I'm buying a tent and sleeping bag. Camping was something from a distant past, but now it will very much be

part of my future. And to paraphrase you ladies and dirty hairy, enjoy the view, but a man's got to know his limitations. Thank you for taking the time to read this long story. I've attached a picture of Josephine and I taken just before we started the hike, a photo from the trail, as well as a very overly dramatic recreation of me when I passed out. Your loyal listener, man. Manny has a great attitude. I'm really looking forward to the recreation photo of that. Okay. I'll post it.

That was a really good. I'm sorry that happened to you because that's a really scary. Yeah, I'm sorry you died. Yeah, I'm sorry you also died. But I'm glad that it was very temporary. And I also, the way you didn't go to the hospital after, it's like, I only died for a few seconds. I want to go to a hotel. I don't want to go to the ER.

Yeah, that's insane. That was a reckless decision, Mandy. You're hearty for sure. I would have been like, take me to the ER, move me in. Do not let me leave. Monitor me for a month. Yeah. And you're like, no, I'll just go to a hotel.

I was only a couple seconds. I feel fine. Wow. Insane. But cool. Thanks for coming back to us. Okay. My second story is titled Donkeys, Trails, and Bears, Oh My.

I recently stumbled upon your podcast via Reddit and I was instantly hooked. Oh, my, Reddit. I can't talk about Reddit. I'm scared of Reddit. We're not on Reddit, but we're afraid of Reddit. Yeah. I binged all the available episodes in a time frame far shorter than I should probably admit. In my defense, my work days are 10 hours and my free time involves a lot of ranch chores where it is nice to be able to listen to something.

I work for a state game and fish agency, a history nerd. I actually taught middle school history for 10 years. I love the outdoors and my wife is a veterinarian. Basically, I am the target audience. That's very true, actually. You like hit it off. When you had mentioned the rotting teeth as a symptom of scurvy in a recent episode and dentals, I knew all too well exactly what the veterinary dental side was like. I've heard many similar tales. I love the trail tale episodes and like probably 90% of listeners, the night of the grizzlies episode is an all-time favorite. I wanted to preface my own trail tale with the fact. I love the trail episodes and like probably 90% of listeners, the night of the grizzlies episode is an all-time favorite. I wanted to preface. I wanted to preface my own trail tale with the that I am terrified of bears. Admittedly, I'd probably prefer to run into a bear than a cougar. Cats are not to be messed with, but nonetheless, it's a pass on the bears. In June of 2022, I went to Colorado for the first time with my friend and our donkeys. We were in the San Juan National Forest, I know, I know, not a national park, and decided to take the donkeys up to Lower Stoner Mesa Trail. As we stepped out of our trucks and began to get

the donkeys ready, I looked at the donkey bell collar I had made, specifically with the idea of alerting wildlife when we were in the area. Of course, I got caught up talking, distracted, and off we went, bell collar in my truck instead of on my borough. I grew up and still live in the Sonoran desert, so the amount of green everywhere was breathtaking. My donkey, Freya, is a formerly wild donkey, caught just outside of Death Valley National Park in Beattie, Nevada. I've been there. Beattie. I think there's like a ghost town there that Ian and I stopped at. Cool. I think. And was equally floored by how green everything was. The hike up to the top of Stoner Mesa was a single track and fairly steep so we went single file. Myself, Freya behind me,

my wife with no donkey, my friend with her donkey Hamilton, and lastly, my friend's husband with his donkey Coco. I just love the donkeys. So you're just like walking them? Because you're not riding them. So you're just like taking a walk with donkeys. You're just taking your donkeys out for a walk. Have you seen? Actually, I saw that like two weeks ago. I was taking Choska and Blue on their normal walk around like a local lake a few blocks away. And there was, I should you not like 10 people and they each had a mini donkey. That's adorable. That's like a dream. I'm like, where are these donkeys coming from? Many donkeys are probably the cutest thing that have ever existed. No one stopping you can be a donkey. That's true.

I am an adult and no one's stopping me. And you also have 10 acres of land, so just consider it. You could take a donkey for a walk. You could be this person. That's true. I could. I could. Think of the possibilities.

While I had considered myself fit in shape and an avid hiker, I had forgotten that all of that was true in Arizona desert hills and mountains, not in Colorado, where I'm not entirely sure if y'all even have oxygen. I am also not sure. As we came close to the top, where I was promised a gorgeous view and a meadow, I heard a large rustling through the trees and brushed to my right, coming down the mountainside. Now, it is important to note that Freya has the nickname of Fuck Em Up Freya, as she, like most donkeys, is very aggressive to smaller livestock and predators.

This is actually what has led to the unfortunate misconception of donkeys being great livestock guardians. I knew Freya's criminal background in regards to wildlife slash things that are not equines or humans, and whatever was coming down the mountain was coming in hot and could potentially be on Freya's murder list. Immediately to our left was a drop-off, but the trail was almost wide enough to have two groups past each other, so I decided to just stop and wait. I figured it was a deer that had been spooked by the laughter and talking of our group. All we had to do was pause at this safe space on the trail, let it pass, and not let Freya decide that dinner would be venison patties.

While the next part of my story truly happened in just seconds, it felt like minutes. I was just about to communicate with the rest of the group that something was coming down the hill as I figured they were wondering why we had just stopped.

Unfortunately, the only thing I ended up saying was a bumbling jarble of bear, bear! Bear! It's a bear! As a black bear sow with three of her cubs tumbled out of the brush and right into the middle of the trail about 30 feet in front of us.

The bear cubs scrambled up a nearby tree for safety as Mama Bear began to stomp the ground with both of her front paws and give some verbal warnings of grumbles and blowing. I was pretty certain everyone could hear my heart as it prepared to burst through my chest. Great. One of my biggest fears is now a mere 30 feet in front of us and to top it off, a mother with cubs and a donkey next to me that very well might take it upon herself to take care of the situation. No thanks, Madame Bear. Point taken, the trail is yours. Hey bear, go on, go on and get.

Every time I read that, that's how I say it. Get out of here, now. We all began to echo each other as we turned around as quickly as we could, but not too quickly, walk, do not run, on the trail and began to walk backwards towards the trailhead and the parking lot while keeping an eye on the bear to make sure she didn't follow. When we were able to all finally breathe a collective sigh of relief, Hamilton decided to roll on the trail and sit for a minute enjoying the vista. Can we just agree that Hamilton is the cutest name also?

For a donkey. This is my donkey Hamilton. I like fuck him up Freya. Fuck him up, Freya and Hamilton. Coco's there too. That's right, right? It's a cute name too. By Hamilton.

Yeah, but no, Hamilton. It's so wholesome. It's a good fit. It is. It was during that pause that I learned we had managed to get a picture of a bear cub in the tree. and Freya, my wife, and I in the middle of turning around. Before knowing what was behind the wrestling brush,

my friend had decided that Freya looked Majestic AF and needed a picture. Things just happened to play out just right slash fast enough that the picture wasn't of majestic Freya, but rather a panicked Rachel and Bear Cub. Of course, that also led me to check out my garment for my heart rate and, oh boy, that's a fun little blip of 180 beats per minute. I've yet to actually see the top of Stona Mesa as the following year, We tried the trail again, only to run into another nearby bear. At this point, I'm pretty sure the mountain is just made of bears,

heaps of bears, with trees growing between them to help disguise them all. While I know that all of the bears, a black bear is the best one to run into, and that research points out a black bear is the least likely to attack, I for sure am not taking any chances, especially with a mother and her cubs. We don't mess with wildlife. On that note, my new favorite icebreaker question is, which animal do you prefer to run into? A mountain lion, grizzly bear, or bull moose and rut.

I'm not only okay with the story being featured on the show. I'm over here hoping it gets featured. I've included a picture of my BBF, best borough friend, Freya, La Brea, my lovely skyrocketing heart rate, the bear incident of 21, and Hamilton enjoying the vista and offering comical relief, all of which you are welcome to share, Rachel. What a chaotic scene.

There were just so many things happening in that and all of them were like slightly comical. And I'm glad everyone was safe because I could see how that would also be very scary in the moment. Yeah. I'll post Hamilton. I'll post them all. Yeah. Whatever. Our whole Instagram is just going to be pictures of donkeys from here on here on out.

If there's not a donkey involved. we don't want to hear. We don't care. Except for this next story that doesn't have a donkey involved. And it's titled, If You Can't See It, Is It Really Following You? I'm going to go out on a limb here and say yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, it's following you. You should. It's kind of scary. Ladies, I have been lucky as my work and passion has allowed me to travel and practice medicine in some amazing places, as well as collect some great stories. I'm in the process of recording some of the the better ones. I'm a remote medicine and risk management specialist. I recently discovered your podcast about a year ago and have been listening to the episodes like an addict. My name is Jordan Polly.

I have a short story for you today. It was late January of 2020, the Eagle Cap Extreme, a sled dog race with 30,100 and 200 mile races respectively. I was working a remote checkpoint in the Eagle Caps. I was able to base camp my truck and camper at Salt Creek Summit. From there, I would snowshoe in about a mile to the checkpoint. This was the night before the race and all was quiet. They can't have checkpoints close to the parking lot as when the dog sees a checkpoint and the parking lot together, they think it's time to sack out for the night. They will just lay down. They will lay down and refuse to get back up. Don't take that wrong. They love to pull. They have a passion to just go. So much so if they aren't anchored in the morning or the sled goes over in the race, they will just go until the next checkpoint, unless they get distracted by a squirrel. I would be working graves for this race as a medical provider and be on call during the day if something came up. I decided the night before would be a good time to get used to it and agreed to check the wall tent, stoke the stove sometime between midnight and 2 a.m. With that, everyone else left. This was prior to me doing this type of

work full time. So I left my day job earlier and headed to Joseph Oregon and eventually Salt Creek. about 3.5 hours, but winter and multiple passes, so call it 4.5. I had grabbed the winter toot and a always pack duffel. The winter tote consisted of the heavier outer layer coat and pants, kind of like ECW gear and an extra thermal base layer. The coat was a vest that zips in and out. I realized once I got there and set up the truck and camper, my big coat and outer layer were still hanging to drive from the previous weekend. Well, that's unfortunate, but not a deal breaker. I was able to do a base layer, t-shirt, pants, sweater, down vest, and soft shell rain layer, top and bottom. I always kept insulated carhart overalls and a big coat under the back seat.

But snowshoeing and these would suck. I did some reading, watched some downloaded movies on my laptop, and wandered about. At about 12.30, I got dressed, including my 40 Beretta Storm, holster on my belt against my inner pants, put on a hat, grabbed a pack and headlamp, strapped on the snow shoes. It was a crisp night around 10 or so. Like 10 degrees. That's cold. That's more than crisp. Oh, yeah. 10 degrees Fahrenheit. That's not crisp.

Like, it was slightly chilly. There was a chill in the air. A beautiful evening, not much sound. I was using the red filter of my headlamp to not mess with my night vision and was making good progress. I got a weird feeling a few times. You know the one where you're being watched. Like the hair stands on the back of your head. I would stop every so often and listen, but nothing.

I turned around. every now and again and would stop and listen. The feeling just kept nagging me. I switched my headlamp to a bright white and flood pattern. It had just been groomed and I was the first one on it since the snow started falling. I noticed some tracks just out of the light where my red filter would have been. Small tracks. Probably just a curious fox. I kept my headlamp on the larger white light and setting and continued on. Still feeling, listening and stopping and often turning back. I reached the wall tent, check my radio gear, turned on the checkpoint light for the staff arriving in a few hours, added wood to the stove, pack the kettle with snow, and placed it on the stove. I made sure any extra

snow was off the roof and that the base was well padded down with snow. Then I tied the door shut and turned around. As I made my way back down the trail, I saw some tracks. They had followed mine. These weren't small, they were the size of my hand, with long stride length and visible nails. They looked a lot like the giant paws of my great Pyrenees back home. I looked around with the beam of my headlamp reaching as far as it could go into the darkness. I was so layered that other than to hold it in my hand, there was no good way to remount my holster or to access my pistol. I cussed myself with bad planning and it stayed under my many layers.

As I followed my own tracks back to the truck, those big old paw prints were with me the entire way, starting about 100 meters from my truck and camper. every now and again veering off but coming back to my own within 20 feet or so. Probably about the times I turned around and looked. As I got back to the parking lot, I heard the most haunting, visceral howl I had ever heard with one single long howl. It seemed like it lasted forever. I have no idea how far it was, but it seemed really close to me.

For my entire time there, I never saw it. Mushers saw tracks and others heard it. The ODFW staff said that they had reports. of a single male being around. A few months after that, a pack was cited. Every morning at about 3 a.m., the same howl would be saying into the dark. Even when being followed, I never felt at danger. But I knew I was being watched. It was probably as curious about me as I was about him. Feel free to share. I appreciate all you do to put out the podcast. Happy tales and safe travels, Jordan. So definitely a wolf. Being followed by a wolf. Mm-hmm. And I think that

you know, like they said, never felt in danger, just kind of creeped out a little bit, especially seeing like physical evidence of being kind of like matched when you're walking. And I just think that is an interesting story to tell now because there's a lot of, I wouldn't say uproar, a lot of discussion going on regarding hiking safety in Colorado now, now that the wolves are reintroduced from Oregon into our state. And I really would like to get thinking out loud here. So no one hold me to it. But it's something I thought about getting someone on that has more knowledge than me, more eloquence in speaking about it than me, about hiking safety in Colorado now that wolves are reintroduced because I think there's a lot of fearmongering going on and a lot of people

with concerns that may be a little unfounded and kind of just like spreading fear and worry and concern. That maybe isn't actually something that you need to worry about or at least worry about in the capacity that you are. That you are. And I think it's like, yeah, something that should be discussed a little bit, especially because it pertains to outdoor recreation and people having concerns about it. And, you know, in the state of Colorado, in our lifetime, we've never had to consider that, largely, you know, but I think a lot of people forget that people recreate in wolf country all of the time. And it's not like this new thing that all of a sudden we have to deal with. Like people deal with it in many other states. So, yeah, I think that maybe I'll do that.

I'll reach out to a couple people. It'd be a really interesting topic, I think. Yeah. Okay. My last story is titled Cougar in the Redwoods. Hi, hi, hi. I love your podcast so much. Not only how. Has it inspired me to try and get out into the wilderness more often, it's also reminded me of some important survival tips. Like when you did a trail tale about how easy it is to get dehydrated in the desert climates when I was getting ready to hike in a desert climate, and it prompted me to take extra precautions.

Love you gals. This summer, I visited the Redwood National Park and Forest with my husband and daughter, and it was amazing. Amazing doesn't even feel like quite inadequate word to describe it, actually. There were trees everywhere. We're from Iowa. So this is a rare sight already. But then when we stood next to them and realized how absolutely tiny we were compared to them

between their ginormous size and the age of many of the trees, one to three thousand years old, I just couldn't pick up my jaw off of the ground to the entire time we were there. Hugging one was the most magical thing I've ever experienced. On our last hike, we found a trail through the Founders Grove that looked promising. There were a few cars parked at the trailhead, and we could see others finishing up the loop trail, so we figured it was a safe option. That morning, I had seen signs warning of increased bear and cougar activity in the area, so it was trying to be cognizant of that, especially with a smaller child with us.

I've watched far too many videos of close encounters with cougars, so I know what they sound like. Even though I know if they want to attack you, you won't hear them, sneaky bastards. To not hike alone, to pick up my daughter if we see one, and to try and avoid encountering one in the first place. What I didn't realize that day was that my husband hadn't clocked the warning signs, so he was unaware of any potential danger. We were walking through a beautiful grove, enjoying the slivers of sunlight, cutting through the tops of the trees and the perfect weather when we heard what sounded like a chainsaw. We had seen trees that needed to be cut down throughout the forest, so we had assumed someone was doing just that and continued our hike.

As we moved further and further into the trees, it became louder and louder and sounded less like a chainsaw. My husband and I are normally planner slash nervous Nelly and everything's going to be fine, respectively. In this case, though, my husband was blissfully unaware of what the sound was starting to resemble more and more of, a cougar. I recognized it from the many videos that I had watched, but I tried to brush it off. The most likely explanation is usually correct, right? It's probably just a chainsaw, a really angry, sounding, high-pitched chainsaw. As we continued, however, it was unmistakable. We were entering an area where there was most definitely a cougar or two.

I looked at my husband and mouthed cougar to him, trying not to scare our daughter. He laughed quietly and mowls back. No, it's not. I widen my eyes and mouthed more seriously this time. Yes, it's a cougar and we need to leave now. He made some benign excuse for why we needed to turn around so our daughter wouldn't suspect anything and we started to head back. As we walked back to our car, the sound didn't fade in the distance.

It was like it was following us. This is the point where I lost all my usual chill and picked up my pace and my daughter. I didn't want to take any chances. Finally, as we got to the point where we could see the parking lot, the sound began to fade. My husband and I shared a lot of silent communication during this hike, and in this moment, we made eye contact, gave each other a subtle nod and high-fived. Whatever the danger was, we were okay. When we got back to our bed and breakfast, he explained he didn't see any signs of warning of cougar activity,

and that was why he looked at me like I was crazy when I mouthed Cougar to him. He looked up videos of what Cougar screams sounded like, and sure enough, in the vocalizations, it was exactly what we had heard. He was very surprised and glad that for once I was the one who was prepared and thinking ahead. Were we in real danger that day? I don't know. Probably not. But if we had kept walking and stumbled into a dangerous situation, I would have never forgiven myself.

Women always tell each other to trust their gut, And this was more evidence that our gut feeling is usually right. We definitely enjoyed the view of the Redwoods, but I'm glad we watched our backs too. So many animal stories today. I know. So many animal encounters. It's scary. And like the vocalizations and stuff, like that's so true.

It's like definitely a warning, you know. Like, hey, I'm here. Hey, I'm here. Kind of like stop coming over here. Yeah. But yeah, after the fact and looking up noise. is to confirm what you actually heard is something that we can relate to. Yeah, we have been there.

And I will say it's more fun to learn what they are when you're not in the situation anymore. Yeah. Because it gets serious. You're like, oh, wow, that could have been really bad. You're like, oh. Imagine like you're looking up the sounds that you're hearing when you're out there, but then you're playing the sounds and all the animals hearing that sound.

That would be a disaster, I feel like. I feel like it could go bad. Yeah, don't do that. Don't do it in the moment. Yeah. Or have headphones? It kind of reminds me of like, have you seen those videos of like people just putting mirrors like full length mirrors out in the woods? And then animals walking by and seeing their reflections. Yeah, I have. And the bears get fucking pissed and like rip the mirrors. Who is that? Who is that? Yeah. It's like I have a feeling like if you played a vocalization like that, they would get really agitated. They might think it's another bear or another animal. whatever it is in their territory. Yeah.

Yeah, no, no. Or they'll be like, that's YouTube. That's fake. All right, my last story is titled, My Grandma's Ghost Smells Like Grapefruits and Bleach. Ew. Does that smell good? I'm unsure.

Hey, oh, girlies. I'm a longtime listener and lover of your podcast. I have a lot of paranormal and animal encounter stories that I think y'all would like to hear, but I had to write in about a visitation dream since listening to the most recent trail tale episode. I really resonate with the Danielle's signs from Ian, but I will circle back to that later. I grew up as a ragamuffin, nature-loving tomboy in the mountains of Montana. I learned to fish as soon as I could walk and some of my fondest memories are fishing for perch on the lake with my dad.

My grandma was a big part of my life growing up. She watched me and my little brother at her place near Big Fork, Northern Flathead Lake, on the weekends, and she would always show me pictures of our family members from the past. The funny thing about her is that she not only loved talking about dead people, she also went out of her way to bring me to graveyards whenever we were visiting somewhere. We looked at last names and tried to figure out who these people were by their headstones and the headstones of their family members. She was quite the lady and I don't wonder for a second why I turned out loving the macabre,

ghosts, true crime, and all things historically gruesome. Fast forward to four years after my grandma's untimely death. I was 18 and driving home on a dirt road. I took a left turn and was teaboned by a truck going fast. In that moment, I saw my grandma in the passenger seat and smelled the distinct smell of her grapefruit fragrance and bleach-stained clothing that she always wore. She was with me protecting me, making sure I got through that accident alive. After being extracted out of my totaled car, I looked at the damage of where the truck hit. all being inches away from me losing my legs or my life. I just had some cuts on my face and torso from the windshield glass.

I chalked my survival and lack of serious injuries up to luck and my grandma's presence in the car that day. As soon as my dad came to pick me up from the hospital, I told him that my grandma was in the car with me and ever since I felt like she's been watching over me, especially when I was traveling in my early 20s. Fast forward again to me finding my partner through our love of music, Hendricks especially, the PMW, and deep conversations about dreams, ghosts, astral productions, and aliens.

I knew I found the right person for me despite his reservations and science-based mindset, which is hilarious to me as he is an Aquarius. On one night of the first year of us living together, I had a vivid dream of my grandmother bringing me to a whimsical bakery slash apothecary. I distinctly recall the wooden drawers of spices and herbs and delicious pastries and teas served while we wandered the fragrant store chatting. At the end, she looked at me and said, please tell your mom that I love her and that I'm sorry. I woke up crying, knowing that I had legit just talked to my grandma who had been gone for 10 years at that point. I relayed the message to my mother, and she seemed that she needed to hear it because she got pretty emotional and asked me for all the details. She even told my aunt, so I guess my dream was. a source of comfort for both of them. Whenever I smell certain smells or see certain images,

I am transported back to the dreams and memories of loved ones that have passed. I'm so grateful for the messages in both waking and sleeping from them and my angels, for I am forever reminded that I am so loved. To circle back to y'all, I hope this story reaches Danielle, Cassie, and those listening to this awesome podcast and good spirits, knowing that they too are loved and cherished by those here and beyond. Thanks for reading. If you gotten this far, I appreciate that you two created such a great community of nature lovers. Best wishes and fish kisses from the PNW. Haley like the comet. I love that. Thanks for the clarification. Oh, I love that one. Me too. That was a good one. Man, I love visitation

dream stories and I know I request them a lot, but I'm never going to stop. They're just such cool experiences for people to have. And I feel like they're really uplifting experiences, especially when you're hoping to have them yourself for your loved ones and to hear that other people are having them kind of just gives you like a, you know, my turn's coming. Yeah. Okay, is that it? That's it for all of our listeners, unless you're an outsider and you're on Patreon or Apple subscriptions because then we have two bonus stories, one each. Mine is called the colonial ghost children and playing dead in the trenches, which is very interesting if you want to come hang out with us on our subscriptions. I think mine is just, it's just titled Trail.

Mysterious. It's mysterious. But also just, I guess, to end this, since it's our last trail tale of the year, and that we always, you know, mention the Apple subscription and Patreon and stuff, for people who are not aware or have been debating. what that's all about, our outsider-only community. We have tons of content, lots of ad-free episodes, we have bonus stories. You get a lot if you're an outsider. And we just want to encourage you to go over and just take a peek, see what it's all about. Join us. Yeah, join us. On Apple subscriptions, you get three days free so you can listen to every bonus episode in three days straight if you like and then cancel. We believe in you.

Yeah. But there's, there is. There's a lot of stuff on there. And Patreon actually just started a really cool feature where they added a chat room for everyone who is on our feed. So every outsider can actually sit and chat. You can talk about the episodes if you want. You can share your hiking stories with each other or ask for recommendations where to go hiking and everyone is so friendly and post stuff of their own excursions in the outdoors. So that's a really cool feature that Patreon added. Yeah, it's a cool way to connect. It's a different way to connect for sure. So yeah, go check all of that out if you are interested. We'll continue to put up our bonus stories every month and you get extra trail tales. And of course, add free episodes are always an option as well. So hope to see you there. In the meantime, enjoy the view. But watch you're back. Bye, everyone. Thank you so much for joining us again this week. If you have a trail or story suggestion, send us an email and at Stories at NPADPodcast.com. Follow us on Instagram and Facebook at National Park After Dark and on Twitter at NPAD podcast. Join our Outsiders-only community on Patreon or Apple subscriptions to listen ad-free,

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