National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 41

Episode Date: January 4, 2024

Today’s stories include haunted school houses, questionable disappearances, LSD UFO sightings, bear dances, keeping traditions and no gear - just vibes. 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!Alo Moves: Use code NPAD to get a free 30-day subscription.Athena Club: Use code NPAD to get 20% off your purchase. MasterClass: Use our link to get 15% off your annual membership. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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

Limitless. Now open your eyes. Go to Monday.com. Start for free and finally. Breathe. Girl, winter is so last season. And now 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. Everyone, welcome back to National Park After Dark. This is our very first trail tales of 2024.

Woohoo. I'm ready because this one, I prepared it a long time ago, but it kind of has a theme going on between all of our stories. And I know you haven't read them yet. So I'm excited to see your reaction. Yeah, I'm excited for them. And I'm excited. I do know that it kind of has a ghostly, a ghostly theme going on. Yeah. I felt, I felt like, That's what 2024 needed right off the bat. Some ghosts. And my first story is we're actually going to our home state. We're going to New Hampshire in the White Mountain.

So can I read mine first? Go right ahead. I would love for you to do that. Mine is titled Haunted Schoolhouse in the White Mountains. Hi, ladies. I found your podcast a few months ago. I'm only 50 episodes in, but so far my favorite story is your story of Catmai and Timothy Treadwell. Amazingly done.

I've listened to a few of the Trail Tales episodes now. and thought of a story I wanted to share. It's not related to a national park, but since it'll be close to home for you both, I thought you'd enjoy it. For the past four and a half years, I've lived in Center Conway, New Hampshire. I moved up here to be close to the White Mountains, and I'm an avid hiker. My house used to be a one-room schoolhouse in the late 1800s, known as the new schoolhouse. A woman named Nellie Carver taught at the school for over a decade until it closed in the 1930s.

A few years ago, she bought the schoolhouse and remodeled it into her home, where she lived for six, years. Then she married and built the house next door, selling the old school house to the family I then bought it from in 2019, who had used it as a second home. Fast forward to the summer of 2019. On the day I closed on the house, the family I bought it from gifted me the book Goshen by the same Nellie Carver, which she wrote in detail the history of the area, and which includes photos of my house as a schoolhouse, and when she remodeled it in the 40s. The following weekend, I came up here with cleaning supplies and a sleeping bag to ready the place a bit before moving in. That night, I set up my sleeping bag on the floor of the living room and turned off the lights. Only a few minutes

passed before I felt the reverberations of footsteps near me. They were coming from the bedroom behind me and walked right past me to the front door. It was exactly what you'd expect if you were on the floor and someone walked by you, but it was otherwise silent in the house. It was the first ghost experience I've ever had and rattled me at first, but I came to believe that the ghost was Nellie Carver, accepting me as the new owner of the school she loved to teach at and the home she enjoyed living in. I never felt her presence again, so I believe she departed from the house that night. I love my home and would like to think that Nellie was happy to be leaving it to me. Thanks for reading, Meg.

What a happy housewarming gift, don't you think? I prefer the book or the ghost experience? Both, but I was referring to the ghost experience. I personally don't need ghost experiences. that much in the physical form like that. If I felt like someone was walking by me, that would scare me so bad. But I like the twist on it where she said, I believe that this is her way of welcoming me. Yeah, right?

And it never happened again. And it's kind of like a handoff. Like, now it's your turn. And I'm going to, I'm a head out, you know? I'm a head out. You'll be haunting this place one day. Right. Right.

It's beautiful in its own way. The circle of life. Truly. My first story is titled, The Third Man Factor Trail Story. Hello ladies, I'm a huge fan of your podcast, which this email should attest to, since I have never actually written to a podcaster or a public person in my entire life. Well, maybe once I've written to Kevin Costner some 30 years ago. I just listened to your spirit or science, the third man factor episode, which prompted me to share my story with you. It happened last month in August on a trail of Camino de Santiago de Campesia.

Now, few basic facts about me. I am not a religious person, not even mildly spiritual. I do not believe in an existence of a soul, and so logically I do not believe in the existence of ghosts. I have walked the Camino four times before that fateful fifth pass, and it was never in search of a spiritual being or a metaphysical awakening, but rather a form of affirmation of a beautiful human spirit as Camino is a magical place in that sense. Also, it is there, so why not, right? That is why I find what has happened to me so baffling and mildly amusing. It is a longest story, so I hope you stick with it.

I took a red-eye flight from New York to Spain. I was fine when I reached Madrid but began feeling sick on a bus to Burgos, on account of a rotten fin-air salad. Four hours later, I started retching on the trail. I stopped soon after in a village and collapsed into a bed without supper, since there was no chance I could keep it within me for long. The next day, I felt even worse, but I had to find a pharmacy, hoping for pediolite and coal tablets.

So I walked to the next big town, which did have a pharmacy. It was closed for the month of August, obs. That's so interesting. It's like, we're actually closed for one month a year, and it's in August. Like, why? I wonder why they chose August. Yeah, wouldn't you think around some type of celebratory holiday? I don't know.

I mean, stores usually do really well around the holidays, so maybe August is like the safe month of there's nothing going on. It's just summer and we can go have our vacation. But it's a pharmacy. It's like there's no season for needing medical. People don't get sick and all. Right, right, except for this person, obviously. Yeah.

Delirious and dehydrated, I decided to keep going and find that goddamn sweet pedulite. I set out for the next town completely forgetting that there is a thousand meter mountain between me and the prospective medicine. And while I was not starting at sea level, it was going to be a climb. By the time I reached the foot of the hill, I was barfing bile. I've just, I've been there and I just know that feeling. Like once there's nothing left in your stomach and you're like, I've have to be. done, right? And then you can just... It just burns your esophagus coming up. Oh, God. And then the tape. It was 1.30 in the afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, 34 degrees Celsius. No one in their right

mind was moving, and it started occurring to me that I am in real trouble. I crawled under a bush for some shade and to regroup. I could try and go back to the last town and hope to find a medic there, I thought, or I could try to take that mountain, which looked more and more insurmountable. And that is when I heard steps on the gravel. I looked up and saw a man. About 60 or so, wearing a scouting uniform complete with a leather knapsack and rolled down wool socks. I thought that the leather backpack was bizarre since those things are so heavy. He spoke French, and when he asked me if I was all right, the answer I gave was a spray of vomit that came out of my nose. He introduced himself as Almorick, which was even stranger than his leather backpack. The only Almorick I have ever heard of

was a king of Jerusalem back when kings of Jerusalem were a thing. He said he would walk with me up the mountain if I wanted. I said I wasn't sure if I should go up because I might get stuck at the top and unable to walk down. It is a rather steep climb, you see. He laughed and said I should try, and if I felt worse, he would escort me back to the town with the closed pharmacy. So off we went. Somehow, despite the climb, the heat, the dust, the lack of shade, I started feeling a bit better in Almurik's company, and with each meter of gained altitude.

We were slow moving, and because we were climbing, we hardly spoke. Miraculously, we made it to the top where there is a little hut offering some shade. I sat there to drink some water, which I thought would be visiting my body for a total of 15 minutes before busting out, but it actually stayed down. Almark told me he was going to pee behind the hut, and when he didn't return after a couple of minutes, I called out his name. No response. Silence. I waited for another moment and then went behind the hut. There was no one there. No wet spot on the ground either. I looked down the trail and it was empty.

Looked over the edge to where we came from, but Almorik wasn't there either. In any case, I would have seen him loop back to where we had come from. I made sure he did not fall off the steep edge, but nope, no crumbled old scout on the mountainside. Now, we are talking a desolate mountain in the middle of a plateau. I'll attach a picture. With some brush here and there, but overall great visibility for miles. And for miles, there was not a soul. I did not meet him on the way down or in the next town.

I kept asking other pilgrims if they had encountered this French scout master, but no one did, which in and of itself is intriguing, since you keep running into the same people whether you want to or not. No one had met Amaric. But I know one thing. I would not have been able to climb that hill without him, and I find some comfort in a thought that my mind conjured up this crusty French man to pull me out of a dire situation. I kind of hope I will never meet him again, and I kind of hope that I will. Remember ladies, always bring cold tablets and gatorade powder with you. Looking forward to your next story, best M.

What an interesting story. I'm so curious if he was real or not. You know, I feel like you could go either way. I love this story because obviously it has all the elements of a story I find very intriguing at base level. But M is just so anti-belief in all of that, which would, you know, like a lot of the third man factor stories that we receive are people who truly. believe right off the bat that it was some sort of metaphysical spirit guide or, you know, a spirit, which is great. And I mean, I'm in that camp a lot of the time as well. But to have it come from the perspective of someone who doesn't believe in that and still kind of is unsure, despite having a personal experience, I think is very cool. And I think it's great that it's something that they just can ponder for the rest of their lives. Yeah. It's so interesting, you know. And like you said, it's coming from someone who doesn't believe it. It's almost more interesting when it happens to

people like that because people who do believe in something like this in the spiritual realm, you can kind of be like, they're just like connecting the dots in the way that they see it. But when you're talking to someone who has no belief in it, and then they have an experience that could really be explained by the spiritual third man factor in this case that they don't believe in. It's like, well, maybe there is some validity behind this. 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. I was just listening to. So I read this book over a year ago, but it's called Proof of Heaven. And a doctor named Abel, I want to say Abel Ebenezer. Dr. Ebenezer. Am I making up Able. Abonizer is Chris is the Christmas Scrooge. It's his name is Ebenezer something. I swear to God, because I was just listening to it. And I read his book, obviously. Oh. Did they write it after the Christmas ghost visit?

No. A different type of visit. It's Eben, Alexander. What did I say? Alexander Abel. Did I say Alexander, though? No. I said Ebenezer.

Ebenezer. What the hell did I just say? You said Abel Ebenezer. Scrooge. Which. Oh my God. That is so funny. Okay. Sorry, Mr. Alexander, Professor, Dr.

Not Ebenezer. Not Mr. Scrooge. Anyways, so I read his book called Proof of Heaven over a year ago, and I just listened to, I've listened to three of his interviews on different podcasts, but one of them I just listened to today. And I find his story so fascinating. But just as a condensed version, he's a neuroscientist and a neurosurgeon and has been for like, had been for over 30 years at the time of his experience. Never, like total atheist, you know, to the tea, just kind of like your brain is it. Like if you. don't have a brain function. Like, you know, you don't have a consciousness, you don't have a spirit, etc. So anyway, he in November, I think of 2008 or so, he was having all these really bad back pains. And his wife called paramedics, essentially what happened is he had a awful case of meningitis to the point that he died. And he was in a coma for seven days. And every doctor, like, at first they were like, he's probably not going to live. He's most likely not going to live.

He has a 10% chance of living. And it went. down to 2% and he had every dog. I mean, obviously it's like one of your own, you know, going down. So it was kind of all hands on deck. And everyone's like, you need to say your goodbyes. He's not going to make it out of this. And he was in a coma for over a week. And he came back despite the odds. And his story is like a case study just on the medical side because it's a miracle for a lack of a better term. But basically he was brain dead. He had no brain function for the entire time he was in a coma. And he came back. And at first he was confused. He didn't know where he was or who anybody was, any of his family.

But he knew what had happened to him. And over the years, he wrote obviously a book about it. But his experience, he had a near-death experience. And he was like, it was the- When you say he knew what happened to him, do you mean while he was in the hospital he knew what was going on? No, he didn't know what had happened to him in the physical world. He knew what his experience was and what happened to him, like his spiritual experience.

Like when he died? And he goes into all this detail about it. And it's a long-winded way of saying he went from like one camp to the other after a personal experience. And it's so fascinating coming from him in particular because of his background and his professional work and his belief system before. And it's fully based on science. I mean, he's a doctor. And he has the medical paperwork to back it up. It's like he was brain. He had no brain function for over a week. And yet he was having this experience. that he can recall. And it's just wild. It's just a cool. I just really like that story and that type of story. So having it come from people who have differing opinions is interesting.

And that's all I'll have to say about that. Okay. What's that book called again? Proof of heaven. Proof of heaven by Ebenezer Scrooge. Yeah. Got it down. Write it down.

Write it down. Okay. I feel like I've been talking for a while and I still know I have to talk again because I have a story. Wait, did I just read a story? Wait, no. You just read his story. It's my turn.

Where are you? I'm not sure. Am I having a near-death experience? Hold on. I hope not. Hold on. You just like squinted your eyes. I have to do that thing.

Like, press your palm. It's like, I am awake. Have you seen that? I am awake. I am awake. This is reality. Okay, go. This is reality and we're in the middle of recording.

Okay. My next story is titled, the strange disappearance of our South Texas ranch hand. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. My name is Albert, and I've recently started listening to your podcast. I simply can't stop. I'm a resident of Laredo, Texas, who spends quite a bit of time on our family ranch in Zabata, Country, Texas. A little backstory with our ranch. The property is about 2,500 acres and was given to my family as a land grant in the late 1800s. The property is divided into three pastures and four bodies of water. A small stone cabin-like structure had already been built on the ranch when it was granted to my family, and it was likely built

in the early 1820s, according to records my grandfather was able to obtain about the property. In the early 2000s, my uncle hired an undocumented immigrant as a ranch hand who was more than happy to take on the challenge. During his five or six years on the property, Alberta raised chickens and sheep on the ranch while keeping the Senderos, Spanish word for ranch roads, clean, and he maintained the old ranch house. Alberto was a very traditional, religious, and superstitious man. We often listen to him tell stories about his early years of Mexico with his family. Nothing was ever completely out of the ordinary until one day he began to talk to us about the ranch house. Alberto told us he believed the cabin was once inhabited by a native family. However,

Alberto told us he had begun to feel a strong, negative energy within the walls of the structure. We know that Alberto had a slightly unusual nature about himself and we never seemed to give a second thought about it. However, during the late stage of deer season, around 2009, Alberto told us something that will stick with us forever. While eating beef ribs, fresh off the barbecue pit inside the old cabin, Alberto told us, in Spanish, that his friend who lived with him in the cabin was mad that we never fed him. Words could not describe the chills that consumed my body. We recognized that Alberto had taken an interest in the history of the cabin and the property, and we quickly realized that Alberto's feelings of negative energy may have been attributed to the lost souls of the cabin's previous inhabitants.

About three months later, my father, my uncle, and I made a regularly planned trip out to the ranch. Only this time, Alberto was not there. In the cabin, we located Alberto's belongings, clothes, food, his 22 caliber a rifle, and his bed made neatly. Alberto, however, was nowhere to be found. Our first reaction was that Alberto hitched a ride into town of Sabata, leaving his belongings behind. But Alberto was not at the ranch after we planned our next outing, or the one after that. We came to the realization that Alberta might never come back. Dust quickly covered the belongings Alberta left behind, and we traveled the cinderos of our ranch several times hoping to find a clue as to where Alberta went. Nothing. To this day, we are not sure

if Alberto left the cabin with negative energy to find new opportunities, or if Alberto never actually left the property. I refuse to take another step in that cabin. For although it is located on our property, I can't help but get the feeling that it was never ours to inhabit. Thanks for listening to my story about Alberto. I know it's not something that took place in a national park, but I've actually never been to a national park. However, after listening to your podcast, I'm making that a top priority of mine in the years to come. Stay safe and watch your back, Albert. So are you saying that he's just gone forever. He's just missing. I'm just so, this is, this story is so concerning because what happened? Do you have answers? Did, I know you mentioned that he was illegally here, but I imagine

calling the police or it's just really concerning that he just up and left and you never heard from him again. I will say, because this story was kind of geared around a paranormal side, where he mentioned that Alberto, one of the last things he had kind of said was his friend who was with him was mad that they never fed him. There's a lot of stories about people in hospice or people dying where their loved ones come and visit, like right before they die. And that's like a sign. Like I've heard stories of people in hospice where they'll be like, oh, my husband came to see me today. And then it's like a sign that that person might be about to pass on. And I kind of wonder if we're going in that route if maybe he was about to die and someone was visiting him and that's who he was referring to,

or if the cabin's just haunted and scary. I feel like there's a layer of the cabin being haunted and scary and it has like its own vibes. But I think it's completely separate from what happened to Alberta. Don't you get that feeling? Yeah. Yeah, me too. But I was just saying if we're going in that Yeah, I think it's really concerning that he's gone. And I, like you said that you guys looked around the ranch a little bit, but I'm just concerned what else. That's really concerning. A real person disappeared and no one's ever seen or heard of him since 2009. It would be different. I think if he was just like a seasonal worker that was like, oh, he was here for a brief time and he just moved on. But he was there for a long time. He's there for years. And his bed was made and all of his belongings were there. So it doesn't seem like he would. is intending to leave if he left all of his belongings there. And if he was trying to leave because it had bad vibes, you would still take your stuff. Yeah. I don't know.

It's just... We need more information. Yeah. Should we call 911? I don't know. Maybe I will after this story. But I will say, I have to redeem myself just so quick. Okay.

Okay. So Abel Ebenezer was in my mind. We're going back. It was in my mind because, not because of the Scrooge, even though. that is his name. Oh, does he have his first name? I don't even know. It's Abel Ebenezer Scrooge. Okay, well, Abel Ebenezer is a brewery in Merrimack at home. Is it? Yes, yes. I feel like I've been there. You have been there, probably. It's kind of near G's, Mr. G's, and they opened, like, I think in like 2016 or so. One of Ian's friends is a bartender there. And their logo is like a tree. You know what? That's so funny because I think it's just Ebenezer Scrooge then, and then I'm thinking Abel Ebenezer from the brewing company.

We're working it out. It's all coming together. Googling it. That's so funny. Okay. Well, I just needed redemption. That's all. Now I'll tell my next story. That has nothing to do with Abel Ebenezer. Okay. It's titled, It Looks Like a Dixie Factory blew up out here. Arches National Park Trail. Hi ladies, my name is Alice, and I wrote in a trail tale a while back about nearly sliding to my death down a glacier in Uinta National Forest. Life got busy, but I recently started catching up on the pod again and listened to a trail tale episode that talked heavily about signs from loved ones who had passed on. I had a story about this very thing take place in Arches National Park.

I was 13 years old when my great grandma Mary Harmon died. It was the first truly devastating loss in my life, and it was very sudden and came as a shock to my entire extent. family. The most devastated of all, of course, was my great Grandpa Jay, who loved Mary with all of his heart, and for the nearly 15 years or so following her death would talk of her goodness every single day. They love each other with an eternal love that never goes out, and it permeates our family to this day. Like I said, I took the loss very hard. We all did. Grandpa and Grandma used to host the entire extended family at Arches National Park every October, and we would occupy one of the two group campsites in the Devils Garden Campground area.

The Devil's Garden Campground sits in the shadow of the beautiful, of the beautiful skyline arch. Surrounding the campgrounds there are so many places to explore, sand dunes to roll down, and red rocks to run up and down on. We went there every single year growing up. The year Grandma Mary died, we all kind of wondered what we would do. Grandpa Harmon announced very matter-of-factly that, as long as I'm still kicking, I'm going to arches. And if I have the whole group site all to myself, so be it. And of course, no one was going to let him have it to himself. So that year we loaded up and made the drive to arches.

My family is one of the first to get to the campsite to get set up. My grandpa Harmon insisted on driving himself and the trailer full of paper goods that we would need to feed a family of probably 40 individuals who would be coming in and going for various meals. My grandparents pulled up and got set up as well. They told me that Grandpa Herman was just putting the finishing touches on his trailer when they left their house and that he should be there very soon. hours passed and Grandpa Herman still hadn't shown up, but other families were starting to trickle in. We all started to wonder where he was until Uncle Richie pulled up, leapt out of his car and announced that Grandpa Harmon had been in a horrible accident, but that he was alive and well. Because none of us had self-service, they had been trying to contact us for well over an hour. My grandparents immediately got in the car and drove to the site of the crash.

Lo and behold, there was Grandpa Harmon's truck absolutely totaled at the bottom of a ravine right off of the main high. highway that winds through Arches National Park. My grandpa was standing on the side of the road next to some forest rangers in their truck as they worked to figure out how to pull out his truck that now resembled a crushed soda can and the trailer out of the ravine. As my grandparents approached the park rangers, one of them announced, is this your dad? His truck is a goner and it looks like a Dixie factory blew up on the side of the road, referencing all of the paper plates, paper cups, and napkins that were scattered about the road. My grandpa Harmon was fine with only a gash on his arm to show for his incredible tumble off the road. He said that he had nodded off while driving and the

fact that a scratch was all he got from his experience was a miracle, plain and simple. But he was quick to give his true love, Grandma Mary, all the credit for his life. He said, there must be more people in my family who need me and the tradition of arches in their lives. And when he said that, he meant it. He went to arches every single year for the next 15 years, up until the year before he died. By that time, his last arches rolled around. It was 2019. I was married and living in Washington State a good 16 hour drive. Arches was approaching

and I was getting serious FOMO. So I told my husband last minute, two days before the camping trip was going to start, that I couldn't take it. We weren't going to miss Grandpa Harmon's last Arches trip. Zach called off work, we loaded up our eight-month-old baby and surprised my grandparents with our appearance. It was one of the

few times in my life I saw my grandma cry. And when she saw my mom bring my eight-month-old daughter, Fay, from across the campsite, she yelled, That baby looks like Faye, but they're not coming. Alice, you said they weren't coming. I yelled back to her, what can I say? We couldn't miss the last arches. My grandpa Harmon was absolutely thrilled to see us.

I've always been his favorite and experienced arches with his first great, great grandchild. Jay Harmon died at the ripe old age of 94. In the 15 years since his true love passed, he kayaked Big Cahuna and Lunch Counter on the Snake River at age 89. scaled Machu Picchu at the age of 91 and never missed a year of arches. I'm honored, blessed, and grateful to have such incredible outdoor experiences with a man who loves the outdoors and he loved his family most of all. Thank you so much for sharing stories of how the outdoors bring us all together. Love Alice. That's such a nice story. And so when you were describing, or when they were describing the car and how he got out with only a scratch, there's no way that he wasn't being looked after that day. fully agree with that. And I just think it's so cool that he was just so determined to continue on a tradition despite some pretty crippling heartache and that he continued to do badass things

well into old age. Scaling Machu Picchu in a couple, yeah, in a couple months and I'm very nervous. Me too. I'm like, am I going to be able to scale Machu Picchu at the age of 33? So yeah, I just, I thought that was a really heartwarming one and one that just shows that family is so important and that the outdoors does bring everyone together in a way that is really special. So thank you for sharing your family with us, Alice. Yes, thank you. All right. My next story is titled Friendly Ghost Hiker. Hi, Danielle and Cassie.

I first started listening to your podcast about two years ago when I was student teaching and had a long drive to my placement school. I did my student teaching in Montana, which means that I had anywhere from 45 minutes to two hours to drive depending on weather. You two became much-needed company, especially on snowy days. Now I live in Salt Lake City, Utah, and this summer, I finally had an experience I thought was worthy to write in about. Back in June of 2003, I hopped on all trails and started looking for a new hike. The name Little Mountain stood out to me because it reminded me of a dear friend whose last name is Little, and I decided to give it a try. It was a hot day, but I drove out to Emigration Canyon anyway and got started.

I had plenty of water and stopping frequently along the way, but I still felt like I was dragging. I was miserable. The hike had very little shade, and I was really feeling the sun. A little over a mile in, there was a hard uphill push, and I was questioning my decision to be out that day, when all of the sudden, I felt a gentle squeeze on my upper left arm like a friend saying, hey, I'm right behind you. I turned around expecting to see a familiar face and instead saw no one. It's important to know that I consider myself a jumpy person. If I so much come around a corner and see my roommate standing somewhere unexpectedly, I jump. So it really stood out to me

that I felt comforted by the presence of someone unknown touching my arm. Not long after, I decided that for my own safety in the heat, I was going to turn back and go home. But it didn't end there. I kept thinking and thinking about what I felt on the trail. At first, I wondered if early heat exhaustion could have caused me to imagine it, but in all my years, nothing similar has ever happened to me because of the heat. I thought maybe a bush had brushed it against my arm just right, but none of the bushes were tall enough to reach my arm. I kept trying to explain what happened, but nothing seemed to make sense.

Then I started thinking that maybe it wasn't a what, but a who. I'm very open to signs from the universe, and I 100% believe that there's another phase for us after death. I texted my friend who has similar beliefs and told her I felt like someone had squeezed my arm while I was hiking. Her exact words were, probably just someone, a ghost, squeezing by you on the trail. But for some reason, I still couldn't put it out of my mind. I'm notorious for wanting to do a new trail every time I hike. I love the variety in all different landscapes I've witnessed as a result of that,

but Little Mountain was still calling my name, so about a week later, I went back. It was a much cooler day the second time around, and I felt like I was flying up the mountain. Eventually I came to the place in the trail where my arm was squeezed and I almost held my breath in anticipation. Would it happen again? I hiked by, looking around like someone would be waiting there for me. But there was obviously no one and I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. This time I made it all the way to the top with no problems. At the very top of the trail, I saw a rock carrion and under one of the rocks was a plastic gallon-sized

Ziploc bag. I'm a big believer in Leave No Trace and leaving natural areas better than you find them. so I pulled a bag from under the rocks with the intention of packing it out and throwing it away. But what was inside the bag was an unexpected surprise. I found a photograph of a man and a letter. Some of the letter was illegible due to the elements wearing away at the paper and ink, but I read as much of it as I could. It was written by a man named Brandon.

Brandon wrote about how important the outdoors were to him and how it broke his heart that a multiple sclerosis diagnosis made him unable to hike and enjoy the outdoors. He gave a good reminder in the letter that it's important to enjoy the things you love while you still can and ended his letter by saying that his social worker had promised to leave this letter at the end of a beautiful hike for other hikers to read and enjoy. Then, at the very bottom of the letter was an additional paragraph written by Brandon's social worker, informing that Brandon had passed away about eight months prior to when I hiked Little Mountain. I returned the letter and photo to the bag and secured it under the rock in the pile for the next hiker to find.

I firmly believe that Brandon was on the trail with me that first day, giving me support and encouragement to come back and try that trail a second time. And now every time I'm in the outdoors, I feel a little less alone. Keep up the amazing episodes and have a great week. Millie. I've seen Brandon's account on Instagram. Oh, you know who he is? Yes, I do, because I've seen his story. And that totally reminded me that I had been familiar with it. I don't think, I think it was an algorithm thing. Like it came up in my algorithm, but I didn't follow it. So I'm going to have, did they attach, I'm going to have to look if they attached his. Maybe they did.

They might have attached. It says no, it says nothing's attached. Okay. Okay. Well, maybe I'll try and look at for it and attach a picture from his account, like when we post for this episode. Because I don't know if it was continued by a social worker after his passing or his family. But I do remember reading about his story. So it's really cool that one of our listeners has a personal experience with his story as well.

That's awesome. And such a positive experience too. Yeah. And I think that's so special to have that letter at the top too. I know. It's like so touching. And I'm just such an emotionally fragile mood today. So that was really heartwarming.

It's an emotional story. It is. And I just realized that my next one is also pretty touching. and it's kind of a similar thing. So it's titled Bay De Los Osos, Father's Day, a Commemoration, and a Celebratory Dance. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. My name is Katie, and I've been listening to your podcast for over a year, and it is something I look forward to on my commute to work,

at home while making dinner, and during my walks with our dog, Rye. I'm just slightly obsessed with the podcast and recommend it to everyone I know. I love all of your episodes, but particularly the Biscayne National Seashore Historical Episode, as well as your ode to Ian. The poem spoken in the beginning of Ian's episode brought me to heavy tears, which led my husband and I to use the poem, gone from my sight,

at our wedding to commemorate our friends and family that are now gone from our sight. My father suddenly passed away from a massive heart attack when I was 25 years old, and we will be commemorating his 10 years gone this fall. The story I'm going to tell you is from this past father's day during our summer in Tahoe

while on a hike in Waddle Ranch Preserve. my husband Jorge, my sister-in-law Terry, her daughter, Mariah, and our two kids, Frida and Horito. Right? Yeah, maybe. Okay. Okay, so all of those people were on this hike. I'm sorry, everyone. I'm not trying to laugh.

I'm laughing at myself. I don't know anything. So her sister-in-law, just to get back to where we're at in the story, because there's a lot of people here. So the person who wrote this email, his name is Katie, and her sister-in-law, Terry, her husband, Pepe, had passed away in January of 2022, also due to a heart attack at the age of 40. Father's Day had been historically difficult for me as my dad was a truly amazing human and life without him feels like a piece of my soul is missing. But watching my sister-in-law and my 11-year-old niece spend the day without her husband and her father to celebrate changed my perspective entirely. At least I had 25 years of memories that could never be taken from me.

but Maria was only given eight years with her father, and her younger brother, who was not on the hike, only knew his father for two years before his passing. Needless to say, Father's Day is a tough day for many of us in this story. We decided to go for a hike that day since being outdoors as the way that I feel closest to my dad, almost as if he is the breeze moving with me. We chose to hike Lake Ella right outside of Truckee.

Terry told me that Maria was hoping to see a bear, but I told her that it would be very unlikely because in my 35 years of life, I had only seen four bears in my hundreds of trips to Tahoe. And if we're being honest, I was hoping to not see a bear. She was not faced by my response and still was determined that she would see a bear. This hike is a popular seven-mile loop that my husband and I have walked several times before. The terrain is beautiful and full of variety of wildflowers and butterflies during this time of year. Halfway through the loop, there is a wonderful resting spot to have a snack with a view of the lake. What better way to commemorate Pepe and my father than to hike to a place that I know they would have thoroughly enjoyed to.

On our way back, we were walking along, the kids running ahead of us loudly, laughing and playing, when my husband whispered, look, a bear. I turned my head, thinking he was joking, since Jorge is constantly tricking myself and all of our kids into all sorts of things. Dad jokes are his passion. But, just as he said, up the hill about 20 meters, was indeed a bear, a big black bear. Terry and Maria were in shock Taking photos as we tried to wrangle our kids to come back and see the bear

But it wasn't just one bear It was a mom bear and her cub The bear gazed at us and circled The very large tree stump she was next to Peaked back at us and then went about her business We gazed for a few more moments And then we told Terry and Maria That we needed to continue before the bear got suspicious

And protective of her cub We started to walk quickly down the trail But they were so overjoyed that they couldn't stop looking and taking selfies with the bear in the background. Once we made it down the hill, we all started to laugh, nervous laughing, crying, laughing, and overjoyed laughing. Terry looked at me, her eyes full of tears, and said, That was Pepe and your dad, I'm sure of it.

Maria brought us luck to this day by wishing for a bear, and we got two, on Father's Day. I forgot to explain that Terry is a stoic person, a woman, a few words, and only when she feels compelled to say them. She wastes no time on niceties, but she is authentically herself, And she has always found comfort in speaking with me about her husband, which feels like an honor. I figure it is because I understand the pain of true and sudden loss.

That there is no preparation, that there is no time to prepare, no ability for the mind to wander and hope for a cure. It's just that one moment they're here and the next they are not. Her saying this to me filled my soul. They were joining us for a commemorative hike and watching over us during this horribly difficult day. She began to do a Baye de los osos with her daughter. and was laughing, all the while crying, and it was the most authentically happy I have seen her during the time I have known her. Nature is not a cure for sadness, but I truly believe it can tame it and bring unrelenting joy during times that it seems joy cannot be found. This day, while not

in a national park, is one of the most special moments of my life. I have attached the photos of the bear dance, plus a video of the bears themselves. Please feel free to share them. I want to thank you both for all that you do to connect with your listeners in such a real and raw way. I know I am just one of thousands that feel an immense amount of gratitude for your podcast and for the writers of the trail tales told, similar to mine, that bring comfort to all of us who have lost someone dear to our hearts. Enjoy the view and watch for the signs. They're everywhere.

Katie. I love that story. That was a really special story that you ended on. I know. I see, I'm full of it right now. It was really, really special. And just with nature and being with your life. your family with it and just all of you connecting in such a special way to that moment.

Mm-hmm. It was really, it was really touching. And like dancing when you don't feel like dancing. You know, it's just like the joy that can be found in really difficult days. It's like when the signs come on especially hard days is like so extra special. And it's just not a coincidence that that happened on that day. And there was two of the, you know, I could go on on and on. We all know where I sampled this.

the one knows that you needed it. Yep, that's so true. So true. Well, that's everything that we have. That's what we're going to end with for all of our regular listeners on here. But we do have two extra stories. Mine is titled Ill Prepared in Patagonia. And Danielle has one as well. And we are going to be reading that for anyone subscribed on Apple Podcasts or our Patreon members. So if you're interested, you can head over to Patreon. Apple subscriptions. We're on both of those. Yeah, and mine is titled, No One is Going to Believe Us. So I'm intrigued. I love how you're like, that's it for all you regular people. That's all.

It's like, for you guys, no more. You're cut off. Well, we love you guys too, but for people who are paying and supporting, we, I mean, I know people support in other ways than listening is totally supporting us too. but for everyone who is on our subscriptions, we have a little extra love to give to you. All right. Let's go give some extra love. Thanks everyone for listening. We will see you next week. In the meantime, 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 NPAD podcast.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 notes. For more information on our show, our book recommendations, merch updates, and more. Visit our website at npaddpodcast.com. and please rate, review, and subscribe from wherever you listen to podcasts. You're listening to this podcast, so I know you've got a curious mind. Here's a helpful fact you may not know yet.

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