National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 52

Episode Date: August 1, 2024

Today’s stories include trail ghosts, hellish roadtrips, Everest summits, bigfoot kidnappings, foaming pants and being comfortably uncomfortable. 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!Smalls: For 50% off your first order, head to Smalls.com/NPAD and use code NPAD.BetterHelp: National Park After Dark is sponsored by BetterHelp. Get 10% off. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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

knowing everything runs smoothly in the background. It's completely shifted the way we work. Create your own AI agent in minutes on Monday.com. Expedia and Visit Scotland invite you to come step into centuries of history that await in Scotland Castle steeped in legend walk along cobblestone streets

come share the warmth of stories passed down through generations this is a place with a past that is fully present today and all yours to explore plan your Scottish escape today at Expedia.com slash Visit Scotland

Hello everyone and welcome back to National Park After Dark. We have a trail tales episode for you today with a little bit of a change up. I hope you like my voice because that's all you'll be hearing today. Cassie is with us. She is just feeling under the weather. Her voice is just really affected and she can't speak for more than a couple sentences at a time. So I will be the voice of every single trail tale today. Yeah, I'm just sitting back and sipping on tea and Danielle's going to tell me all the stories. I got a bunch for you, so I'll begin. The first story is titled. I just feel like, cozy up. Let me tell you some stories. I'm like, I don't know why you're sitting so close to the camera. You could just kick back. I know. That's such a good point. I don't even need the mic near me.

Get comfortable. Settle in. Okay. All right. The first is titled Ghosts of the Oregon Trail. Hi, ladies. My name is Jenna. Please share my name. I will pee my pants. And I love your show. I've been slowly working my way through episodes with any spare moment that I can, and I have to give Ash Kelly from Morbid my shout out for getting me into your show. I was born and raised in Montpelier, Idaho, the very same town that Butch Cassidy and his gang robbed, and the county where Bob Meeks was tried for his crimes. The city used to put on a reenactment of the robbery every year, with guns and horses and the sheriff riding off on a bicycle,

which truly happened in the original robbery. However, the town used to be known as Clover Creek and was a major stop along the Oregon and California Trail. It's about seven miles after Big Hill, which was a steep descent that was very treacherous and required lots of rope holding the wagons back as they rolled downhill. Once the pioneers reached the Clover Creek campsite, they would rest for three days, make repairs on their wagons, and trade at the local trading posts. There's lots of rich history in the small town, including a small museum at the OG Bank, so if you're ever in Jackson Hole, I highly recommend making the two and a half hour detour drive to visit. My stories take place at the National Oregon California Trail Center, which is a non-profit living history museum that offers guided tours, local history, raffles,

yummy cinnamon rolls, and wonderful art to browse. The facility is based in the year 1852, so everyone who works there will speak, dress, and act Like they are from 1852. That's fun. I worked as a tour guide from 12 years old until I moved away for college at 18. Okay, that really does say 12 years old. You worked officially at 12 years old. That's child labor laws.

Being totally just run right over. But that's okay. Let's also skimp right on over that. So I have lots of fun stories under my belt. But the ones I'm going to write about are my most memorable ghost. encounters. In order to tell my stories, I have to briefly describe the layout of the building. The main floor is where the tours take place. It starts in Independence, Missouri, where you gather your supplies and wagon, walk through the mercantile, and learn what it takes to start along the

trail. Your wagon master will then put you on a simulated wagon ride, it's all inside, that will quote unquote take you all the way to Clover Creek where my part of the tour began. I would tell you several facts about wagons, oxen, and some fun campfire stories. Also on the main floor is an auditorium where plays, meetings, conferences, etc., all take place. The top floor is the kitchen and dining area for tour buses, as well as the green room for the auditorium. The basement was the Daughters of the Pioneers Exhibit, which mostly consisted of local history and random antique items. There are three spirits that roam the building. The first is the little girl in the purple dress.

She's around age five and wears a little House on the Prairie like purple dress and bonnet. We would often hear her singing on the auditorium stage. She also loved to tug the skirts of our dresses. I was giving a tour once when I felt a little tug on the waist of my dress. I thought I had caught my dress on one of the fake trees that I was standing in front of, so I tugged it away and kept on going with the tour. It kept getting tugged, but I wasn't caught on anything. It seriously felt like a small child just trying to get my attention.

My co-worker also had this experience, and she saw her hiding in the fake trees watching her speak to a tour group. She tended to gravitate towards the women as I feel she passed on the trail and missed her mom. That's really sad. The second spirit is a trickster by the name of Mickey. No idea if that was his real name, but that's what we called him. He loved to move the chef's metal cart around in the kitchen when no one was up there. It would cling along the tile floor and hit stuff. We would just yell up, cut it out Mickey, and he'd usually stop.

He also loved to turn the lights back on after you had walked all the way downstairs from turning them off. They were on the top floor by the creepy green room. One time, my co-worker was the wagon master during the first half of the guided tour. He got to the area right before you get on to the wagons where a map of the trail sat to show guests where they would be going. He got to where the map was supposed to be, but it was gone. He kept going and just improvised, like the amazing guide that he was. And now I must preface this by saying there's a very large, heavy wooden barn door that separates the wagons from the first half of the tour. My co-worker pulled open the door and found the map lying on the floor.

He came out and asked us, there was a couple of other younger kids working there, if we were just messing with him, which to be fair, we often did. But we were super confused because we were all eating lunch together and no one had been back to that area in at least an hour. There was no breeze that could have moved it since there's no windows, and the barn door is. flushed to the ground so it couldn't have slid under there randomly. Mickey, you little trickster. The last spirit is the one I have the most experience with. I believe we named him Leroy, but I could be wrong, it's been over 10 years. He is a burly cowboy who is very protective and watched over the ladies of the facility.

There is a dirt floor throughout the tour area, which is the actual dirt and campsite remains of the original Clovercriep campsite. Oh, that's an interesting twist. And I remember I would be walking around alone and I would hear footsteps right behind me. I would stop and there would be one or two more shuffling steps before they would stop behind me too. I never felt threatened and could tell he was just watching over me. But my God, was it creepy. One of our tasks was to dust the mercantile when it was slow as it gets dusty with all of the dirt flooring.

I hated doing that. It always creeped me out as there were sound effects of an old town. Imagine horses, waggids rolling, people chatting, sounds of walking, etc. and there was music I was playing. To comfort myself, I would sing. I would sing any time I was off on my own, as I think the spirits liked it, as well as it kept me calm since I spook easily.

I think Leroy liked it the most, because I always felt him hovering around me when I sang. My craziest encounter with him, though, was when I was in my area of the tour waiting for my guests to get onto the wagons. It was a slow day, so I was just sitting in a rocking chair waiting for them to get to me.

I was zoned out when I saw a figure in the corner of my eye. I looked and watched as a shadow emerged out of the wall. The only way I can describe it was a very detailed and textured figure of a tall man, but he was entirely black like a shadow. There was no color to him, but you could see the details of his attire. He wore a cowboy ensemble, chaps, spurs, and a hat. He walked in front of me from left to right at a normal speed and didn't seem to notice that I was there. I could see his chaps swinging and he seemed very solid, minus his colorlessness. I watched him walk around a corner and disappear into a door that didn't lead outside. It led to where my coworker and his group was. I got up and checked to make sure I just didn't see a

real person trespassing in our tour area, but there was no sign of him. And my coworker was very adamant that no one had walked through there. I don't know why, but I definitely feel like that was a residual image of Leroy walking around the campsite, as I didn't feel his presence like I had in other times. Anyways, thank you for reading my ghostly experiences. I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for all that you do for this community, and thank you for keeping us all company during our day. Give your pups an ear scratch for me and enjoy the view.

Sincerely, Jenna. Shadow ghosts are also a big no for me. I was just going to ask out of the three. So there's the little girl in the purple dress, Leroy, and the trickster Mickey. Which one would you prefer? Probably the trickster. At least it's fun.

Really? Yeah. I feel like I would be annoyed by that pretty quickly. I would rather be annoyed than afraid. Okay, yeah. The little girl, even though it does seem sad, I don't want to really be involved with. I don't know. I think the cowboy.

I like a protective cowboy. That's true. That's hot. Anyway. Okay. Second story. Girl, winter is so last season. And now Springs got you looking at pictures of tank tops with hungry eyes.

Your algorithm is feeding you cutoffs. You're thirsty for the same. 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. This next story is titled Road Trip from Hell. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. I have been listening to the podcast for a while and holding off on sharing my story, but I was listening to a Trail Tales episode on my way home from work today.

and got inspired. Of course, I have to say I love the podcast and thank you guys for making my commute more interesting. So, last year, my boyfriend and I moved back to our hometowns on the East Coast after living in Oregon for a while. I went to school in Washington State and have done a few solo cross-country road trips before, and he has done his fair share of them as well. We decided to make a big trip out of this move and drove south down the California coast through the southwest states, down to New Orleans and then up the East Coast until I reached my hometown in Washington, D.C. We loaded up my trusty Honda CRV, which had gotten me across the country three times before, and we were in high spirits. We left in the beginning of October and planned for about two weeks

on the road, stopping at a few national parks on our way. I should add that my boyfriend is a huge outdoorsman. He grew up hiking and camping, has summited Mount Adams, Mount Hood, and Rainier multiple times, goes camping every free weekend he has, etc. I, on the other hand, have been camping a total of once before I met him, and I much prefer to sit in a grassy field with snacks and an art project instead of hiking for hours. But this was a trip for both of us, and I wanted to take stops on our drive that both of us would enjoy.

We left our little town in the Oregon Desert and headed down the coast, stopping first in the redwoods to camp by the ocean. Then we made our way down to Yosemite for a bit of hiking and sightseeing. We had planned on camping somewhere around Yosemite for the night, but we thought we could find a better campsite and kept driving towards Death Valley. Not an original stop on our schedule, but we both wanted to see it. After an hour or so of driving, it started to get extremely dark because there are no street lights out in the middle of nowhere between Yosemite and Death Valley,

a place I now believe to be the Bermuda Triangle of the United States. Nothing good happens here. Oh no. We realized we were going to run out of gas before making it to death. valley where we planned to camp on some public land. So we looked up gas stations and realized the only one we could make it to was in a tiny town in our south, completely out of our way. But we had no choice and had to do it. It was really late at night now and pitch black. We were both getting a little spooked. We talked about scary things and true crime podcasts. And I had mentioned I would never

stop the car at night to help someone on the side of the road no matter the situation, because I, as a young woman, don't trust anyone. Maybe three minutes after I said that, we drove around a bend in the road and saw a convertible parked on the opposite side. There was a man in the driver's seat and another man standing outside, waving at us to stop.

I looked at my boyfriend and said, hell no, we are not stopping, keep driving. That was the first kind of freaky occurrence in this absolute hell of a night. A little bit after that, we arrived in the quote unquote town where the gas station should have been. The entire town was really,

one street with one restaurant and a couple of houses. We drove past a trailer-type home that looked like a bar. There was an open sign outside, and I could see a few people drinking and hanging out inside. There were a couple of cars parked on the outside of the building, and my boyfriend and I agreed that if the gas station was closed, we would drive back to that bar and ask someone for help. One minute of driving down the street, we come to the gas station, and of course it was closed until the next morning. So we made our way back to the bar, only to find it completely empty. All of the lights were off. There were no cars outside and no one inside. We were both so confused because no more than two minutes prior, it was full of people in cars,

but now it just looked like a regular house with all of the lights turned off. We were both getting more and more spooked and decided to just drive into Death Valley, camp, and find a gas station or someone to help us in the morning. So back on the road we went, telling each other more scary stories and trying to freak each other out in the pitch black night. The road was getting really windy and rocky hills started to pop up around us so we knew we were getting closer to the park. Suddenly, the road turned into a little hill and when we reached the top, we couldn't see what was in front of us because of how steep it was. We came to the top of the hill and just as we were starting to drive downward, my boyfriend slammed on the brakes and the car came to a screeching halt.

We both screamed and through the windshield came face to face with a pack of wild horses. standing in the middle of the road. They were all white with brown specks and white manes. Their eyes honestly looked cloudy and white too, and they just stared at us. We were probably five feet away from slamming into them and wrecking the car, and they just stood there. Eyes deadlocked on us.

Finally, after waiting a while and honking the horn, the pack dispersed and we watched them disappear into the darkness of the night. My boyfriend and I were completely freaked out and started talking about what would have happened if we had hit them, how horrible it would. it would be to kill a wild horse and thanked God that he saw them in the nick of time. Finally, we made it to the outskirts of the park and just needed to find a place to sleep.

Now, for as outdoorsy as my boyfriend is, he also has crippling ADHD and is not a planner. Both of us, actually. So imagine two 20-something-year-olds driving aimlessly around Death Valley in the dead of night, gas almost empty, maps not working because we are in the middle of nowhere. We finally found a little spot and set up camp for the night, which consisted of the of his tent, an air mattress that he brought to make camping more appealing to me, and a couple of blankets. What you should all know about Death Valley is that it is in the desert. And the desert, contrary to what you may think, isn't always hot. In fact, it gets fucking freezing at night. So after

falling asleep to the sounds of owls hooting in the distance, we woke up maybe two hours later freezing our asses off. Shivering, unable to sleep and completely cranky, we packed up the tent at 2 a.m. and started driving to another nearby gas station. carefully, I may add, because we didn't know what terrifyingly ghost pack of wild horses would jump out at us again. After that night, the trip went kind of smoothly for a couple of days. We saw the Grand Canyon, visited Sawaro, though I did fall off a cliff hiking in Sedona and had to ice my butt for a couple days, but things were looking up. So casually said. I know. It's like, okay, so again, we're just going to skimp over that detail. So good, so good. Everything you want for summer is at

Stalk Stores now and up to 60% off. Stock up and save on the brands you love like Vince, Sam Edelman, Frame, and Free People. Join the Nordi Club to unlock exclusive discounts, shop new arrivals first, and more. Plus, buy online and pick up at your favorite rack store for free. Great brands, great prices. That's why you rack. Our next stop was an Airbnb near White Sands National Park, a destination we were both super excited about because of the aliens, obviously. We are both really into aliens, documentaries, podcasts, you name it, and plan to do some alien watching in white sands.

It was about 9 p.m. and we were just about a half an hour away from our Airbnb, which was a cute 60s-themed trailer on the host's property. It was another winding, curvy highway, and we were driving about 60 miles an hour, just trying to make it to the Airbnb before my boyfriend fell asleep at the wheel. I was looking down at my phone when I heard him scream some profanities and felt him slam onto the brakes. looked up and everything that followed happened in about two seconds. A pack of elk, somewhere between 10 and 20, came running from out of nowhere onto the highway directly in front of our car. He tried to swerve to avoid them, but it was like a wall of elk and there was nowhere to go. We hit one straight on and I watched in horror as it bounced off of our windshield and flew behind us. I heard a loud crash and pieces of glass flew everywhere, which we later learned was due to the first

Elk's body whipping around and smashing its legs through the back driver's side window. Oh my god. Another one slammed into my door and my boyfriend started veering off the highway and came to a complete stop. But he didn't see the semi truck in the other lane, not stopping at all. And it came about an inch from hitting into my door. He swerved at the last second to avoid it. And then we made our way safely to the shoulder to assess the damage. Thankfully, my boyfriend and I were fine. I walked away with a couple small cuts from the glass. My car, on the other hand, was in much worse shape. We called 911 and got out of the car just as it started to smoke and waited for the police and a tow truck. They pulled my sad, crushed car with tufts of elk hair stuck to the windshield off

into the night. And my boyfriend and I were standing on the side of the road talking to the police officer who so kindly gave us a ride to our Airbnb because Uber and Lyft and even buses don't exist out there. The next morning, we hitchhite to the closest town and got a rental car and drove to the junkyard that my car was taken to to retrieve our things. Because remember, I was moving my whole life across the country. Oh, my God. So all her stuff is in there. Oh, my God. We pulled up to my car and I immediately started crying. I don't know if you guys are like me, but I get very emotionally attached to my car. Yes. I cried so hard when I bought my forerunner and gave, I don't know. I don't know. I I didn't give away, but sold my Jeep.

Mm-hmm. Like, I had that Jeep for over 10 years, and obviously there's a lot of happy memories with trips just like the one you're describing, minus the near-death experiences in it. You know, it's like you're with your car all the time. It's not just a car. It's the stuff that comes with your car, like the things that you do because you have that car. And where it takes you and all of that.

So I understand that. Plus, all of my belongings were covered in glass shards and the rental car was about half of the size of my car. So we spent an hour picking glass out of our things and deciding what to take with me and what could be left behind when the tow truck driver came walking out of the little office building to say hi to us. We were making small talk and he was asking us how we were doing when I noticed a blue minivan in front of my car that looked to be in terrible shape. The front was entirely crushed and the windshield was completely shattered. It looked like the airbags had deployed and I honestly couldn't imagine the driver of that car walking away alive.

The tow-druck man and my boyfriend kept making friendly conversation when he told us, yeah, you guys are lucky you weren't the couple from this morning, and motioned to the crumpled-up minivan. What happened? I asked. They hit a pack of elk early this morning, the same place on the highway that you guys did. For some reason, a lot of accidents like that happened right on that bend. I asked if they were okay, and the man slowly shook his head before saying, they didn't make it. My heart dropped. My boyfriend and I looked at each other and back at the minivan,

feeling so sad for this couple that hit a pack of elk in the same exact place we did, maybe eight hours later, but we were the ones to walk out alive. We packed up the rental car, got back on the road, wanting to get the fuck out of New Mexico. Before leaving, though, we stopped to pick wildflowers and arranged them into a little bouquet. On our way out of town, we stopped on the highway where both accidents had happened. The elk that we hit was still laying on the shoulder where the policeman had dragged it off the street. We held a little funeral service for the elk, set a few words for the other couple, and left

flowers there before leaving New Mexico for our next adventure. My boyfriend and I still debate to this day, were we unlucky to hit a pack of elk and total my car, or were we lucky that we survived? I definitely think it's the latter. The trip had an almost cursed vibe from the very beginning, and I can't help but feel incredibly grateful that we made it out alive. Here we are, five months later, working and living on the East Coast. I bought a new car, another Honda CRV because she saved my life once. Why would I get anything else? And we are very happy. But I don't think I will be taking any more road trips for at least a

year. I'm sure there are many morals of this story, but if you were to take anything away from it, please let it be this. Buy a Honda CRV. They will save your life. Thanks so much for reading my story, and thanks for entertaining so many people on the podcast. You guys. are awesome, Livy. Use our code NPAD at the CRVE dealership. For 20% off, a life-saving vehicle. That story kind of, or elements of that story kind of reminded me of, this was a couple years now ago, but I remember being in our home office and Ian got a phone call

from his sister, Courtney, and she was like freaking out. And long story short, she was driving where, like, we all. kind of used to live around Golden. And she thought she slammed into an elk because obviously elk are everywhere around there. And like her windshield broke. There was glass in her eyes. Like it was a huge thing. And it turns out she had hit a baby moose.

And she was like so distraught because number one, she was just in a really bad accident. Her car was totaled. And she was like, you know, she could have been way worse off. But she was obviously injured to some degree. And on top of it all, the mom Moose was there, like crying for the baby and the baby had to be put down. I know. It was a whole thing. It was a whole thing.

Don't tell us that story. Oh, my God. Sorry. Yeah. That's so sad. Yeah, but she was so shocked because, I mean, obviously, moose are in that area of Colorado, but they're just so less common than the elk. Yeah, wouldn't be the first thing you thought. Yeah.

But I've never, knock on wood. right now. I have never hit anything like of that size ever. I know of people who have Al did, but he had a, he had one of those big bumpers on the front of his car. Oh, like a big ram bar. Yeah, he was driving up. He was somewhere in Canada driving to Alaska and a blizzard and he hit something and luckily he was okay, but it's just, it's sad. They need to put more of those wildlife highways for crossings, yeah. The Crossings, yeah, the bridges. Oh, no. Stop speaking. Okay. We'll communicate telepathically.

Okay. Just know I'm here. Just not saying anything. Okay. Ready to soundtrack your summer? With Red Bull Summer All Day Play, you choose a playlist that fits your summer vibe the best. Are you a festival fanatic?

A deep end DJ, a road dog, or a trail mixer. Just add a song to your chosen playlist and put your summer on track. Red Bull Summer All Day Play. Red Bull gives you one. Visit red bull.com slash bright summer ahead to learn more. See you this summer. The next story is titled Getting Comfortable with the Unknown, courtesy of a wild hiking adventure. Hi ladies, loving the podcast and wanted to share an adventure I had with my husband during the summer and fall of 2022. I'm going to try and summarize our experience as best as possible.

We had intentions of hiking the PCT beginning early July. One of my goals of through hiking the PCT, spoiler alert, we didn't, was to become better at going with the flow in life. It was a slightly high snow year, and although we are very comfortable in snow, being from northern Manitoba, Canada, what we underestimated was snow at elevation combined with the exposure of the northern Cascades. I am quite scared of heights, so this was our first main challenge. Starting out hiking in the North Cascades on our first day, I broke one of my trekking poles, self-arresting on a snowfield.

We ended up turning around at Rock Pass, deeming it beyond our skill and comfort level before officially going southbound on the trail. After a couple emotional days dealing with the scary exposure and icy slopes, we decided we would head to the small town of Cascade Locks and begin hiking south from there in the Mount Hood National Forest. However, within a couple hours on our first day of hiking, my husband reached down to pet a dog without asking, and he was bit quite badly. The owner was so nice and apologized profusely, but before we could gather information

on the dog's vaccines, he was out of there. We contemplated what to do on the side of the trail while we did our best to clean his wound. We decided it would be best to head back to town and inquire about a rabies vaccine, stitches and antibiotics. We were very overwhelmed to find out the estimated cost of medical care and our travel health coverage would have to be reimbursed to us after paying for the hospital visit up front. Being from Canada and being so close to BC, we decided to head into town and get on a plane to fly to Vancouver early the following morning. me just side note, that's how crazy the cost of health care here. It's like you're going to just like go back to another country to get help because it's going to cost so much for so little. Like you don't even need that much and it's going to cost you. Well, if you're doing rabies

vaccines, I guess, because those can get pricey. Yeah, but they shouldn't be pricey. You know, like it's literally just a vaccine. Why? Why is it cost so much? We're not going to dismantle the U.S. health care system right now because on this podcast on this episode. Yeah, we're not, not today. After a quick and free visit to the Vancouver Hospital, the doctor said my husband didn't need any additional care, great, but also, damn it, because we just flew here for no reason. Since we found ourselves in Vancouver, I decided to see if we could get permits to hike the West Coast Trail in the Pacific Rim National Park. A notoriously difficult permit to get, but low and behold, there was a cancellation and we were able to get permits for two days from then.

After some incredible luck scoring a very last minute shuttle there and loving our West Coast adventure, it was time to try Oregon again. This time started off much more successfully and continued in the Mount Hood National Forest until forest fires pushed us off the trail. By this point, we had entirely given up on our dream of through hiking the PCT and said, fuck it, let's go to California and hike the JMT. Our hike of the John Mayer Trail was so incredible, and I have multiple stories that could be trail tales for another time.

from that section alone. During our hike of the JMT, we had decided that once we were done this section, we were ready to head back to Canada. No offense, but that was enough of the states for us. We summited Whitney, of course, with some unexpected drama, and then got off trail and made our way from the west coast of the U.S. to the east coast of Canada to continue our random hiking adventure. We decided to try our luck at hiking the east coast trail at 336 kilometers. The trail follows the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador and passes through many national historic sites. The day after getting screeched in, we were packing up her backpacks only to discover that our tent, the home that we were living in for the last two months, was completely gone. It must have gotten lost on one of our flights

from the states. Before we got picked up and driven to the trailhead, we stopped at a gear store and picked up a tarp. Have we ever used a tarp before? No. Did we know how to set it up? No. Were there still mosquitoes, yes, but said, hey, let's just give it a try because it was cheap and by this point we were running very low on funds. This particular trail runs through many small communities and we were really lucky that for the first two nights on the trail, we were taken in by a lovely couple. Unfortunately, a couple days into our hike, my husband started to feel quite ill. Let me back up. Getting screeched in is a tradition in Newfoundland. Okay, I was going to say, like, what is getting screeched in like you got there in time like you skirt it in but yeah okay this is going

they're explaining it this is going in a completely different direction do you know before i no i don't well let me tell you getting screeched in is a tradition in newfoundland where you kiss a codfish and take a shot of screech what is screech some sort of like some type of alcohol rough alcohol it's rum oh okay interesting is the fish alive is it dead it's 40% alcohol Yeah, so it's pretty rough. Okay, so you're going to kiss a codfish, unknown if it's alive or dead, and then take a shot of 40 percent. Is it 40 proof? That means 40 proof. Yeah, 40 proof. 40 proof, rum. Great. The night we did it was a record high attendance at the bar as a large group of folks from Florida were there, and I believe they were close to about 50 people. That's 50 people

that kiss the same fish. So when my husband, yeah, let's live. Yeah, let's. hope. So when my husband started to feel sick, our first thought was, oh, shit, it's probably COVID. Because we were in such a remote area. The only accommodations available were small bed and breakfast and no one would take us in because this was still when COVID was quite scary. Oh, you thought it was COVID, not the fish kissing ordeal. Or, anyway, got COVID from the fish. Oh. Because of all the people who kissed it. Okay. There we go. Thank you. This left us in one of the more depressing scenario. which had us sleeping in an abandoned RV park with no water and no bathroom and nowhere to rig up our shitty tarp. My husband was terribly fevered and we spent the night sleeping on our sleeping pad on a gravel patch with our bug nets for relief from the mosquitoes. This experience was only heightened when I had to dig an emergency cat hole and walk through tons of stinging nettles in the process. Ouch. The following day, a lovely man who just got over COVID so he didn't feel horribly guilty being in his vehicle.

gave us a ride to a small provincial park and on the way called his friend who owned a small store where we were able to buy an actual tent. We were able to stay in the provincial campground for a couple days in a tent for my husband to recoup. We didn't hike the entire East Coast Trail, not even close. We did, however, end up renting a car eventually and touring through Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Quebec. Then we flew to Alberta to visit my husband's brothers. While there, we decided to bookend our hiking adventure with a trip to the mountains. Unfortunately, there were no rental cars available, literally anywhere. That is how we discovered that you can rent a U-Haul van and Van Lifeit in Banff National Park for a couple days for very affordable prices.

Yep, get a U-Haul. That's a brilliant idea. All things said and done, our trip couldn't have gone further from our original plan, but I definitely had so many incredible experiences and was able to see so many beautiful places from it. I also got something else I wanted, my ability to go with the flow. I hope to share more details from this adventure in a future trail tale. In the meantime, keep being you. Shawna, listener from the prairies of Canada.

Your poor husband. I know. He gets bit by a dog, then he's sick. From a fish. From a fish. A COVID fish, yeah. This episode is brought to you by Prime. Obsession is in session.

And this summer, Prime originals have everything you want. Steamy romances, irresistible love stories, and the book to screen favorites you've already read twice. Off campus, L, every year after, the love hypothesis, Sterling Point, and more. Slow burns, second chances, chemistry you can feel through the screen. Your next obsession is waiting. Watch only on Prime.

Okay, my next story, I feel like I've been talking for so long. Oh my God. I've been talking for so long. Wow. I hope I never have to do a solo podcast. podcast again. This is awful. Okay. You're doing really good. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Um, the next story is titled, A Visit from Charlie, question mark. Cassie and Danielle, to be frank, I have always been thankful that I have never had a trail tale to share. I prefer an uneventful,

peaceful experience in nature. Well, that sure did change last week. For my 30th birthday, my husband and I embarked on our first through hike. As through hike novices and India, natives, we decided to tackle a trail close to home. The Tacomsa Trail is located in southwestern Indiana. It spans 42 miles from Morgan Monroe State Forest to Brown County Forest. The entire first day and night we saw no one on the trail. On the second day, we ran into a solo hiker who had claimed one of the shelters along the way. We had planned on staying at a shelter further south, so we continued on without seeing another soul. The lack of hikers did not surprise us. This is Indiana, after all, not the Appalachian Trail.

Our night to destination was Charlie's shelter. Built in honor of a hiker who volunteered his time maintaining local trails, it's essentially an empty wood cabin with a porch and double doors that shut. I don't know much about Charlie. The note at the shelter said, He died while working on a trail. He died doing what he loved. How profound.

My husband and I talked about how lucky we would be to die doing what we loved. I joked and said, mine would say she died doing what she loved. loved, sitting on her couch eating Mexican takeout. We settled in, setting up our pads and sleeping bags. We were exhausted and ready to crash right away. However, we left the doors wide open because we didn't want to lock out anyone that may have been planning on crashing there as well. Shortly before 9 p.m. we called it. We locked the doors and passed out immediately. Roughly an hour later, I woke up to the sound of footsteps approaching. By this time, it was completely dark. My first thought

was, how odd? The trail had been so desolate. Also, this point. Poor hiker must have miscalculated and has been hiking in the dark. I waited for the footsteps to approach and knock on the shelter doors, but no knock came. Instead, I laid there and listened as the footsteps began walking around the shelter. I heard the person dragging things around outside. I thought, what are they dragging around out there in the dark and why? There were plenty of tree stumps for sitting, a fire pit, and a picnic table all outside of the shelter. So maybe that's what they were arranging?

I woke up my husband and whispered, Do you hear that? He confirmed that he did, but his head was throbbing, aka, please let me try and sleep. Eventually, the exhaustion grew stronger than my curiosity, and I fell back asleep. Fast forward three hours to 12.30 a.m. I am abruptly awoken by those distinct footsteps again.

This time, there was no dragging, but rather the sound of sticks and branches breaking, almost like someone was going around gathering kindling for a fire. Once again, I thought, how odd is this hiker? Starting up a fire past midnight, I laid there, figuring I would hear the crackling of a fire soon. As I waited, exhaustion once again overcame me, and again, before I knew it, I fell asleep. I woke up to my 7 a.m. alarm, and I quietly snuck out of the shelter, hoping to catch a glimpse of this rowdy visitor. I expected to see a tent, a smoldering fire, or some new stump configuration. Imagine my surprise, when there was absolutely no evidence that there was had been a visitor. I was flabbergasted. What was all of that dragging? Did this hiker really managed to stay up all night and quietly pack up and leave before we even woke up? My husband woke up and confirmed he heard the same noises last night, but was too tired to investigate or overthink it. As the third and final day of hiking progressed, I couldn't shake what

had happened. The remaining miles brought continued desolation with no sign of the mysterious night owl. As we neared completion, it dawned on me. That was Charlie. Charlie was known to maintain the local trails. Why wouldn't he be working hard to maintain his own shelter for through hikers like us? His presence wasn't threatening or ominous. Rather, it felt like a man at work. I attached a photo of our setup at Charlie's shelter. I took four pictures total the entire trip to conserve battery life,

but something compelled me to take a photo of our setup. Maybe that was Charlie too. I emailed the volunteer group who built and named the shelter, politely requesting more information about Charlie and more of his life story. I haven't heard back yet, but I will let you know if I do, Ellen. What a fun story. A pleasant one. Very pleasant.

And I would be very interested if you receive any word back because clearly we really love learning about the history behind places. Hence why we began this show. So I would like to have some follow-up information on Charlie if you come across it. All right, we're keeping it going. This next story is titled My Step-Uncle's Everest Climb in Hi Cassie and Danielle. Thanks so much for the wonderful podcast. I've been obsessively listening for a while now and you're both incredible storytellers. As a nervous Nelly, I really appreciate all

the safety tips you and your listeners share. I wanted to share with you both the story of my step-uncle, Ed Webster. Ed has now passed, but I used to see him during the major family holidays where he'd be regaling someone with some tale of history or adventure. I was too young, awkward and introverted to really appreciate the opportunity to talk to Ed, but I do remember his giant smile and missing fingertips. While I'll try my best to summarize the high points, I cannot recommend enough his book, Snow in the Kingdom, my storm years on Everest, enough for the full picture, literally there are so many beautiful pictures of Ed's climbing adventures. He goes into a ton of detail into the history of the mountain, the culture, and how an expedition works. He also shares his own tragedy. He also shares his own

tragic climbing stories, one of which was how he watched his girlfriend, Lauren, fall 100 feet to her death. Ed made it down the climb to sit with her as she died. Ed soothed his grief and honored her adventurous spirit throughout his future climbs. That's really tragic. Ed spent much of his time rock climbing in Colorado and New Hampshire, I just have to say. It's always Colorado, New Hampshire, Pacific Northwest, or New England, I should say. They're hotspots. They are outdoor activities. And he was part of three Everest expeditions, twice as a climber, once as a photographer. The 1988 expedition in particular was pretty historic in the world of mountain climbing.

The four-man team of climbers consisted of Ed, Stephen Ventibals, who was a veteran alpinus, Paul Tier, an ice climbing specialist, and Robert Anderson, who nearly summited in 1985 and survived an avalanche. That team performed the first ascent of the Tibetan side of Everest, without bottled oxygen or Sherpa assistance. And while they studied numerous images and maps, they had no idea the difficulty level of the mountain prior to starting the climb.

Long story short, Stephen ended up being the first Brit to summit Everest without bottled oxygen on this expedition, with Ed and Robert reaching the south summit, 300 feet from the summit. After using a leftover tent to spend the night at 8,300 meters, approximately 27,224 feet, Ed and Robert began the path down when Stephen caught up after spending the night alone, higher up on the mountain, without a tent, after completing his summit. After reforming their trio, Robert survived an avalanche but lost his ice axe and hammer.

Stephen also lost his own ice axe right after trying to use the results of the avalanche to speed up his descent. Ed paved the calm, determined path back to camp after over 24 hours. in the death zone during a total whiteout. After they reached the camp at 7,300 feet, the group hung dangerously on the edge of death with their exhaustion and the morning's warmth of the sun, tempting the group into constant sleep and eventual death. At a pivotal moment, Ed led the charge out of camp saying,

get up, get moving, or die, to his teammates. After reaching their highest points in the climb, three and a half days later, without food, they made it down. They all survived, albeit with missing digits. Ed lost eight fingertips, taking out his camera at 27,000 feet at nearly negative 30 degrees to take a stunning photo of the sunrise hitting Everest. Worth it. Just kidding. I don't want to lose any fingertips.

I know, but such a cool photo. Especially back then when you can't just Google them. Right. Yeah. It's much more, like, unique. And harder to find. There is definitely so much more to the story and to these people. They've all written various books about their journey, which I'll link.

There's also a video of Ed speaking about the expedition, complete with his many photos. Anyways, thanks so much for all that you do and for the opportunity to share his story, Sydney. And we'll go ahead and link Ed's book and the other links that she provided from the others in the show description of this episode. if you're interested in learning more about that expedition and Sydney's uncle. Very cool. I love expedition stories and to know like our listeners are attached to such a big one. It's really cool. Yeah.

All right. My last. Let me look at our recording. Have we been recording for two hours? Oh, no. It's been less than one. It feels like a lot longer. But this is the last story.

But then surprise. I have two more to share for Patreon. Apple subscription subscribers? Subscribers. Outsiders. Okay, so this last one is titled Bigfoot Kidnapping. Cool. Hi, ladies, I of course have to start out by mentioning how much I love your podcast.

I discovered your pod during the last semester of my doctorate and listening to both of you talk made me feel so motivated and less alone. To start, I have always been super into cryptids. When I was a kid, I would write theories about the Lochness monster. My dad and I still always keep an eye out for Bigfoot when we go camping, and I tried to convince my friends to all dress up as Mothman last Halloween. So when I finished my first semester of grad school, my partner thought it would be a nice gesture to take me to the Cryptozoology

and Paranormal Museum in Littleton, North Carolina. It is only about an hour and a half from where we live, and we thought it would be a super fun day trip. It supposedly opened late in the day, so after stopping for an early dinner, we drove up and followed the Bigfoot sign cutouts right into someone's literal home. There was Bigfoot paraphernalia everywhere, and it was clearly the right place, but the museum just happened to be in the ground floor of the owner's house. This combined with the fact that

there was literally no one else there, it was dimly lit, and it was eerily quiet, immediately made me want to bolt. However, my partner seemed interested, and it was early in the relationship, So we were still playing chicken and the I'm cool with it if you are stage. I hate that stage. I'm over that stage. If I'm not cool with something, I'm going to say it. So we stayed and poked around. I won't say much about the collection except to say that I am not convinced by its validity.

I don't know. It sounds super convincing to me. That's a low blow. It's like I won't say anything about it, but it's fake. We did a quick lap and we were just about to leave. when the owner bounded downstairs, completely unfazed by two strangers in his home, and begins to tell us all about his life. Again, I won't say much, but I doubt his validity as well.

Ouch. Damn. Now, as a woman, an irrational person, I don't quite feel safe in the home of a random, kind of creepy older man, so I was desperate to get out of there. So when he told us that he would be moving his museum to a new location, and he was actually headed over there now if we wanted to. follow him, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to flee. However, to my utter shock, my partner who was driving the car, followed him to a terrifying rundown building.

Oh, no. Again, not sure about you, but I have always been told you do not follow a strange man to another location. But remember, the relationship chicken, so I couldn't break first. I slipped my tiny pocket knife into my pocket and hesitantly followed this man on the most terrifying backroom tour you could ever imagine. I kept waiting to see blood spatter or corpses. I don't want to ruin the story, but thankfully we didn't get murdered. After my partner and I left, we sat in silence for about 30 minutes on the drive back before finally having a what-the-fuck moment and started crying, laughing about how absurd the entire experience was. He does acknowledge that he should have driven away, but I guess the thirst for Bigfoot knowledge was too strong. Thanks for reading, if you do.

and remember to enjoy the view but never follow a stranger to a second location, except maybe if they have proof of Bigfoot there. How would have you have ever known? Maybe you didn't go. And now you know that the validity was questionable at best. And also you know that your instincts are probably correct. Yeah. So, I mean, the guy was enthusiastic about his Bigfoot collection

and wanted to share it with the world. and the world just happened to be you too and no one else. In a strange location and a rundown building. Right. It's like, yeah, come here. Come into my... Have you seen those memes? And it's like, me, I would never get into a stranger's van.

And then it's like a van with like... I saw one the other day and it had like puppies and a charcutery board and like wine. And it was someone jumping in the van. It's like that but Bigfoot version. It's like, I would never go into a stranger's house except if there's a, Bigfoot memorabilia on the verse four. Well, I'm glad you made it out okay. And you can laugh about it now.

All right. That's it. Thanks for hanging with me. I'm so glad I don't do a solo podcast. And I'm sure you are too. You did great. You did great. I loved hearing all your stories.

Well, I have two more. So everybody who is an outsider, I'll see you soon. Sorry, we. Cassie's here too. I'm also here, but we'll not be contributing. We'll see you soon. Everyone else. Please enjoy the view. You have to say it. But watch you're back.

Bye, everyone. Bye. Thank you so much for joining us again this week. If you have a trail tale or story suggestion, send us an email at Stories at npadpodcast.com. Follow us on Instagram and Facebook at National Park After Dark and on Twitter at NPAD podcast. Join our outsiders-only community on Patreon or Apple subscription. 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 npadpodcast.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. Drivers who switch and save with Progressives save over $900 on average. Pop over to Progressive.com, answer some questions, and you'll get a quick quote with discounts

that are easy to come by. In fact, 99% of their auto customers earn at least one discount. Visit Progressive.com and see if you can enjoy a little cash back. Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. National average 12-month savings of $946 by new customers surveyed, who saved with Progressive progressive between June 2024 and May 2025. Potential savings will vary. Ambition comes in all shapes and sizes. At First Citizens Bank, we roll with your goals because we're built for what you're building. Fit for your ambition for Citizens Bank.