National Park After Dark - Trail Tales 95: Ghost Grandpas, Faking Injuries & Spooky Flavored Lore

Episode Date: June 4, 2026

Today’s stories include ghost grandpas, tent crushes, trail angels and spooky flavored lore. Outsiders Only bonus stories available for Patreon and Apple Subscribers! For the latest NPAD updates, group travel details, merch and more, follow us on npadpodcast.com and our socials: Instagram: @‌nationalparkafterdarkTikTok: @‌nationalparkafterdark Support the show by becoming an Outsider and receive ad free listening, bonus content and more on Patreon or Apple Podcasts. Want to see our faces? Catch full episodes on our YouTube Page! Thank you to this week’s partners! Ollie: Ollie. Feed the Obsession. Go to Ollie: Healthier, Human-Grade Dog Food Delivery and use code npad to get 70% off your first box!Jones Road Beauty: Use code NPAD at Jones Road Beauty - Clean No-Makeup Makeup to get a Free Gift with your first purchase!#JonesRoadBeauty #ad Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Everyone, welcome back to National Park After Dark. I'm Cassie. And Danielle, and you're listening to Trail Tales, where you guys send us in stories and will you read them? I want to go first. Okay. If I may. Yes, please. If I may. Take the stage.

Okay. My first story is titled, Faking an Injury Got Me Haunted. Do you see now why I wanted to go for it? It just feels like we got to set the tone. Don't fake your injuries. Make them real. Yeah. Okay, hey gals, long time listener and fellow outdoor enthusiast here.

I've been a wilderness guide for over a decade now and I've got tons of wild stories, as you can probably guess, but the one I'm about to tell you takes the cake. New Zealand, Mount aspiring National Park, a really fast ghost, an angry hut warden and humor. So buckle up. I'm excited. New Zealand is really high on my list right now. What is not? And that is the question.

Actually. You have, okay, you have Norway. Norway is very, very high. New Zealand. Yeah. Are you still doing, where is it that all the icebergs break up and then go down the river? Newfoundland. So that's up there too.

Yeah. And that's in May. It's in May and early June. And every year I say I'm going to make it. And every year I don't. They have iceberg alley. And I still haven't made it yet. Next year.

Yeah. Just really start planning now. Yeah. I'm going to make sure that we have no. plans unless they're going to this location. Good luck. Because I feel like we already have plans. I think we already do.

Okay. In 2023, I took my first solo international trip to my dream destination, New Zealand, otherwise known as Middle Earth to us nerds. If you know, you know. I think that's a Lord of the Rings reference, but I couldn't be sure. I don't know. I'm not one of the ones who know you know. Oh, I know.

No, I don't. I bought. I bought myself a camper van and traveled the country for three months. The whole trip was so dope. During my last month there, I was on the South Island completing a multi-day hike on one of the Great Walks, which, oh my God, Google them, they're fucking gorgeous and called great for a reason. The root burn track in Mount Aspiring National Park.

Any dirtbag that has traveled to New Zealand knows the Great Walk back country huts and campsites fill up very quickly, but I didn't let this stop me. I've got a good amount of rogue in me and I was determined to make this happen even without the proper reservation without harm or to the detriment of anyone else of course. I booked my first night at Lower Falls

Hut but what I was really after was the Upper Falls Hut which was two miles farther north into the bush with much better views and of course a waterfall. The names of these huts are quite similar so I planned my hike so that I'd arrive at Upper Falls Hut at dusk and upon arrival the Game Warden would discover that I

accidentally went to the wrong hut having read the reservation wrong. Oops, ha ha. They won't make you hike at night, so I knew they'd find a spot for me or just let me camp on the kitchen floor, which was perfectly fine with me. I wouldn't bother anyone there. Yeah, this is sneaky. Smart but sneaky. I don't know.

I have thoughts about people who break the rules. Me too. I'm here for it. I'm not. Well, this went off without a hitch. I woke up the next morning in a great mood and to Kia, New Zealand's famous and the world's only mountain parrot, displaying their antics, which included making off with a poor hicker shoelaces, launching multiple aggravated assaults against the roof of the hut and then tobogging down said roof. Oof. They are hilarious birds and wonderful to watch.

But then my next problem surfaced in that the bookings for the next hut and campsite along the track were completely booked. I knew I couldn't play the same trick since everything was booked up so I decided to just walk for as far as I could and then turn back in time to make it back to the car park before dusk. I told the hut warden of my plan and told him I would check in with him on my way back

and let him know how far I made it into the trail. I had the absolute best day. Stellar weather and some of the most gorgeous scenery I had ever laid eyes on. I found a little side trail leading to a valley called Valley of the Giants. I was just in heaven, among golden yellow tussock crystal blue water and towering stone giants reflected back perfectly in little valley tarns

and now began the formings of a new plot because if I was going to make it back to my car before dusk, I was going to have to skip this little slice of heaven which was not going to happen. So I said, fuck it and went exploring. By the time I was back on the main trail and heading back towards my car, I knew there was no way I was going to make it before sundown. My solution to this was not something I would recommend anyone do, and I'm not proud of it, but I also don't regret it because of the adventure it allowed me to have. I faked an injury so that I would be able to stay the night again at Upper Falls Hut,

which is sort of sneaky. And they go on to say, which is sort of hilarious, because if you know me, you know how often I genuinely get injured. I knew I couldn't just say, I lost track of time or I misjudged the distance to the hut warden because we had chatted the night before, and he knew I was a guide and that I wouldn't realistically do either of those things, guide senses and all of that.

So I knew my excuse had to be something out of my control. I took out my med kit. Oh my God. They're committing to this. I am here for this so much. I took out my med kit and wrapped an ace bandage around my knee, which funnily enough had some fake blood on it from a wilderness first aid course I had taken it.

in the past. That's so bad. It's just so bad. When I was within 0.3 miles of the height, oh my God. Sorry. Okay, I'll spit it out. When I was within 0.3 miles of the hut, I started limping slightly and leading on my trekking poles heavily.

When I got there, some nice folks asked if I was okay, and I felt a little guilty for that, but the warden took one look at me and had absolutely no empathy in his heart for me, which was silently hilarious and also weirdly made me feel sorry for myself, even though I wasn't actually hurt. Maybe I fooled all the tourists, but I'm not sure if I fooled him despite my good acting skills. Either way, I knew he wouldn't force me to walk out with an injury, especially when there was no way I'd make it back to the car park before dark, limping like I was. Another's night sentence on the kitchen floor for me.

Excellent. I chatted with some nice folks over dinner and ended up playing card games with them. I highly recommend staying in huts if you ever go tramping in New Zealand. Everyone is always so nice and friendly, especially the locals, the Kiwis, who would give you the shirt off their backs if you needed it. Eventually, folks trickled out of the kitchen to bed, the automatic lights went off, and I hunkered down in my sleeping bag. Little did I know, my second night on this hut's kitchen floor was about to be a very different experience from the first.

Enter spooky ghost dude. I was in that in-between stage of falling asleep, not fully conscious, but definitely not fully asleep either. In the year since I started practicing magic and on my own form of esoteric witchcraft, I often experience paranormal activity in this in-between stage before sleep. Usually I hear spirits. It doesn't happen often, just once in a blue moon. For me, I can very easily tell the difference between dreams, my mind, and the paranormal. They all have a very distinct feeling, so I know that what I am about to tell you was 100% a ghost and not a dream.

As I lay on my mattress half conscious with my eyes closed, I suddenly was alert and became aware of a sudden, angry and disturbed energy in the room with me. I was laying at the end of a long hallway-like room, laying on my side facing towards the opposite wall, which was maybe about 30 feet away. I didn't need to physically open my eyes to see what my mind's eye saw in response to the sudden disturbance in the room's energy. A dark figure of a man, maybe with a bowler type hat, appeared at the other end of the room. He stood there for a moment and then floated. That's right, glided, not walked or ran by moving his legs. He floated towards me at an extremely alarming speed like he was going to float right into me or through me. His legs never moved and he stayed standing perfectly straight up and down as he did this, which was honestly way creepier than if he would have appeared to run at me normally.

I gasped and as his figure got to me, I returned to a very alert in a wake state. I opened my eyes after a few moments and he wasn't there. But I knew that this event had happened on some level or plain. It had a paranormal vibe, not like a dream. I was uneasy the rest of the night and didn't sleep well. I felt unwelcome like I was invading this entity's space and that he wanted me gone. But the first night I stayed there, it was perfectly normal. No activity at all.

Did this ghost know I lied to stay at the hut? Was it the spirit of a previous hut warden? Did this ghost tip off the living hut warden to my scheme then try to run me out of town in the middle of the night? Either way, I was out early the next morning before any more gain wardens, living or otherwise could give me even more grief, even if I did deserve it. I hope you enjoyed my silly little tale. Thank you for doing what you do and keeping me currently entertained on my second New Zealand road trip that I am currently on two years later.

Full circle, much love and good vibes to you gals. Keep prioritizing side quests in the woods over pissing off hut wardens. But watch your back. Cheers, Tracy. Plot twist. It was the hot warden that whole time. Like, fool me once. Shame on me.

No, you. Fool me twice. I'm going to haunt your ass. Yeah. That's a ghost. Yeah, I think that's so funny. The committing to a fake injury, my brain just wouldn't go there, I guess. It's smart, though, if you need a place to stay and you know otherwise, you're not going to get it.

But it kind of reminded me in high school or elementary school when I, I would fake sick because I didn't want to go to school. And if someone responded and they didn't feel like really bad for me because I was sick, I would, I would cry. It'd be like, you don't care. You don't know that I'm faking it, right? Yeah. And I'd be genuinely hurt that they didn't care that I was sick. I just don't think I could commit to because remember she was like, oh yeah. And then so I like limped my way up there. You got to commit to the bit. I have this bandage on. And then they were playing cards with everyone and stuff. feel like I would just like forget I was supposed to be injured and just get up and walk around like normal.

Yeah. It takes a lot of intention. Yeah. Lying. One lie spirals into a bunch of other lies because you have to follow up with the first lie. But then I would be nervous even if I left early the next morning that I would see people. I want to interact with it for the first like, what does she say, 0.3 miles in. 0.3 miles out she limped too.

Well, that's what I'm saying. It's like, how far do you take this for how long? You have to commit if you're going to do it. Until you're out of the country, at least. She probably went to the hospital after just to make sure. Cool. Well, thank you for sharing that. I have my first trail tale of the episode, and mine is titled Sharing a Tent with the Cute Boy at Field Camp.

Yay, finally submitting a trail tale. Thank you, ladies, for all you do and making me jealous each episode. wishing I could do what y'all do. My trail dates back to 2014 when I was in my college capstone class called field camp. As a geology major in the field, field camp is required for all students to graduate. So a couple weeks after I graduated from college, I headed to Colorado to begin my six-week field camp, which would be a traveling camp from Colorado to Utah to Wyoming. Imagine living in tents with about 30 college grads, most unknown to me, only three from my college were at this camp, and a few professors for six weeks, moving from camp to camp in the most remote areas from civilization

to map the geology of the land, hiking and observing the geology by day, drinking around a bonfire with local cowboys at night, and yes, it was dope. We would be out at camp for seven to ten days before packing up and moving to the next location. During the travel days, we would stay at a hotel for a night to shower slash buy provisions and hit the town. It is important to note here, we only got the chance to shower once every seven to ten days. Okay. That's a long time. Noted. I knew this trip was going to be amazing. I was a young, single, 23-year-old recent graduate experiencing some of the most beautiful parts of the U.S. And to make things better, there was a very handsome kid in my field camp who caught my eye on day one. I too also caught his eye and the flirting began from the start.

It didn't take long for late night tent dates. If you get what I mean, wink wink. To paint a picture, every person had to bring their own tent to camp and we would pitch our tents at each site we were studying. As these tent dates turned into nightly occurrences, we wanted to be discreet to the rest of the campers. So we would pitch our tents away from most people to have some privacy. It was great. I felt like I was on my very own smut book. Yeah, it got steamy and thought, wow, this is the best thing ever until it happened. One night, he was sleeping in my tent with me when I woke up from a dream that I was swimming. But in reality, I was just soaking wet from him peeing in his sleep. I got up screaming, throwing him in all other contents of my tent outside at 3 a.m. Again, I don't have any way to clean or wash

anything in my tent. Imagine sleeping bag, pillow, sleeping pad, the tent itself, my clothing for another seven days. I was furious. Everything got soaked and I made him use his one towel he had to clean up what he could. I think I used about two packets of wet wipes trying to clean what I could. Even with the distance from other campers, folks asked what the hell happened the next morning at breakfast, as well as the secret was out that we were sharing tents. Let's just. just say we slept in his tent from then on just in case. All in all, still some of the best experiences of my life looking back as a season 35-year-old geologist now. Though I'm happy to report my life tent date, my husband, does not pee himself in his sleep. I learned my lesson in

my early 20s, LOL. Again, thank you ladies for the podcast and I can attach my resume for when you are ready for a third host, Winky Face. As always, enjoy the view, but watch. shit out for the cute boy who pease the bed after won too many. Ah, there it is. I was like, were you drinking because you must have been, yeah. You had to have been, yeah. There it is. Because if not, super alarming.

Super alarming, yeah. That's like serial killer shit. Yeah. But there is nothing. Pea aside. Peeing the tent aside. There's nothing like a crush. Like a first little crush.

Especially when you're out doing something really exciting. And like the summer camp vibes of summer love. Yeah. Crushes are fun. You know, you kind of have that early flirtation that's going on. And then if it moves past that, it's just new and it's exciting and it's fun. And when you're outdoors, it has like, yeah. The world is yours until they pee in your tent.

They pee all over it. This is not a drill. I foster failed. I have a new little baby and his name is Gator. and I'm fully in my Chihuahua era. Who would have thought I'd be obsessed with a little dog? Not me. But here I am buying him rain jackets with little alligators on them.

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Do you remember where were we? I think I can see it in my mind. I just don't remember what country we were in. I think we were in Egypt. Oh, we were in Egypt. I don't know if you were around at this point in time or not, but we were waiting for a train and we're at the super crowded train station. Maybe it wasn't Egypt. I don't know. You might have to remind me. But we're at the super crowded train station and we were waiting for a train and on a group trip. And I forget who it was, but one of, there was a bunch of

stray cats and stuff around and one of them was super sweet and like just so like cuddly and laying on people's laps and just like being so such a like snuggle bug yeah and then it peed all over somebody's stuff oh and it was a boy cat and you know boy cat pee yeah is really real Pets. Yeah. And it was like, we're like, we have no. We're in a situation where you have to pay to use the restroom, like, for years. There's no.

There's no. Around to clean all your stuff. Yeah. There's not like a restroom that you can go in and, like, have running water and soap to like, it was just like, oh my God. Pea on your stuff. I'm so sorry. Oh, no. Yeah.

Oh, no. I don't know. I don't know if I could. She clearly kept hooking up with that guy. Yeah. I don't know. When you're in your early 20s and you have, there's so much alcohol going around. There is, yeah.

Yeah. What are you going to do? Yeah. Okay. My second story is called Third Man Above Lyle Canyon. Hello. This is a story from a family hike almost 15 years ago when my daughter was 13 and my son was nine. We planned a week-long hike on the PCT.

entering the Agnew Meadows and entering the Tuolmni Meadows where we camped at Thousand Islands, Garnet Lake, and Wow Lake, Woe Lake, among others. You guys really put me to the test with pronunciations. We got pinned down by torrential rain close to the end of our trip and had two days remaining to make it through Donahue Pass and out to the meadows. So we were trekking. Getting towards the evening, we were walking a narrow path in line. Ceyle Canyon above the meadows where the rain had washed parts of the trail away and stepping over gaps was becoming a regular occurrence on this hike. My husband was in the front, then our kids, both with large packs, and then me in the back. My stomach tightened every time my kids stretched

out to step over the muddy cracks. The drop off to our right was getting scarier and scarier in my mind, and obviously with every step, we were all becoming more tired and therefore less sure-footed. I could not wait to get my kids safely off of this trail. Then all of a sudden, I smelled fresh oranges. Such a marvelous fresh sun at this point in a muddy, damp hike. I looked up to my left and saw a beautiful young man crouching next to his backpack on the side of the trail, peeling in orange. As I got in front of him, there was a big crack in the trail. He smiled and offered his hand to study me and my own huge pack as I crossed the muddy rift.

I gladly accepted the assistance and said thank you. He didn't speak, but kept smiling. And I followed my family down the trail. The next time we stopped, I said, Didn't those oranges smell amazing? They all stared at me like I was nuts. What oranges. I described the man peeling oranges back on the trail.

They all insisted that we had not passed anyone on the trail and that there were no oranges. But I saw him, felt his hand in mind when he offered assistance, and I was reassured by his smile. I know he was there, and I know we all got home safe. To this day, I think of that moment whenever I smell fresh oranges. He was there and helped me get through the muddy bits. I absolutely love hiking with my kids and enjoy the magic that hiking brings into our lives.

They still tease me about the mystery orange man to this day. Stay safe, watch the muddy bits, and enjoy the oranges, Amy. Mystery Orange Man, if you're listening, now is the time to speak up. Please do. Now's your time to shine. Yes. I don't know. For three people to not see somebody on the side of the trail doing something obvious, peeling oranges.

I don't know. Could have been a guardian angel out there for you. That's right. Or a guy peeling an orange that's listening to the podcast. That's also beautiful. That's also beautiful. I would love please step to the front. We must see you.

I got to know. All right. My next story is titled Conservation or Arson. You Be the Judge. Hello ladies, I'll start with the general. Y'all are awesome and have kept me company and awake on long eight-hour drives between college in Wyoming and my hometown in Kansas. My trail tale does not take place in a national park, but, as the title suggests, includes being outdoors and practicing some conservation. My husband is a sixth-generation rancher in the Flint Hills of Kansas. Prescribed burning is a huge part of ranch life in this area. Burning helps keep out non-native species, such as red cedar and other trees,

from invading the prairie and has been practiced since Native Americans lived on the prairie. Around here, the regular fire return interval is about one to four years, and burning usually happens in the spring. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing the ranchers figured out from the natives, at least in some capacity, that burning is a great way to keep peasant. pastures healthy. This story is originally from my husband's great-grandfather Bud and shared with his my husband's permission. Back in the days Bud was ranching in the Flint Hills, you could drive for miles and not see another house or human and everyone burned their pastures. Well, he figured he would expedite

the process, so he would chain a tire on the back of his truck, light the tire on fire, and drive around lighting pastures on fire. Then he would unchain the tire and head into town to the local coffee shop where all the ranchers started their mornings. Inevitably, someone would come running in saying, there's a fire out by this place. And all the ranchers would rush out to help, including Bud, who would also loudly exclaim, what dumbass is lighting fires today? This went on for years until one day when Bud was getting a little older and more forgetful.

It was a normal morning in the coffee shop and someone came in saying there was a fire and Bud saying, Who the hell lit a fire today? Well, that day, he had forgotten to unchain the tire before coming into town. So all the ranchers came out of the coffee shop to see a tire on fire chained to Bud's truck. Oh, no. I'm not sure what happened after that, but I'm sure wherever a fire would start under weird circumstances, he probably got some of the blame. There was never any property damage or injury from these fires since it was so rural, so he was not hurting anything, but those invasive cedar trees. So what do you all think? Arson or conservation?

Maybe a little bit of both. Also, wanted to add a disclaimer that in the tall grass prairie, fire is needed frequently. More frequently than anywhere else on earth. My heart goes out to those impacted by the wildfires happening across the country and closer to home in southwest Kansas and Oklahoma recently. please cover the Flint Hills of Kansas and the amazing ranchers who put their lives on the line to ensure that the prairies stay the prairie. The Flint Hills of Kansas and Oklahoma is the largest expanse of intact tallgrass prairie on the continent. This is because of the ranchers and natives understanding what the prairie needs. It is conventional to think trees equal good and fire equals bad, but that is reversed in prairie ecosystems.

Unfortunately, this ecosystem is rapidly disappearing due to woody, encroachment from the lack of management like burning, and no one really knows. Most people just drive through Kansas on I-70 and can't wait to get out of the state, not knowing that there is a rapidly disappearing ecosystem in peril. It is easy to marvel at the mountains and just want to get out of the prairie because it's so boring. What I say is, ride a horse through these hills and slow down to see all the creatures that live among the grass and then tell me how boring it is. Enjoy the view, But remember to get off the interstate and support the prairie, sincerely, Natalie. Oh, support the prairie.

Anyone can love the mountains, but it takes a soul to love the prairie. I like that. I don't know. What do you think? I think it's arson. I definitely think it's arson because it's not controlled. I think that his intentions were good. I mean, it feels like he was doing it because probably for his own farming crops and because other people weren't doing it and he knew it was helpful.

I can't believe he did it for years. Yeah. Like every year when a fire breaks out and someone's lighting fires. But he had a good cover. I mean, he's just sipping coffee. He's like, oh, who are these rascals? Lighten fires. Let's go get them, boys.

It could be. Yeah. Oh, no. That's funny. I'm glad no one got hurt or anything. And I mean, it definitely sounds like it sounds like if it was arson with good intentions. Yeah, which is rare. Yeah.

Thanks, bud. Yeah, an unsung hero. All righty, next up, we've got Ghost Grandpa, Woman in White, and Family Lour. Hey, you wonderful humans. As always, I'll start this by throwing flowers at y'all's feet. Your hands down my favorite podcasters, congrats on the Webby, nobody deserved it more.

Thank you. Today I'll be entering the call for family lore, but make it spooky flavored. Basically, my family lore is the family farm in the Kentucky Appalachian foothills. My kids are the seventh generation to grow up here, and although it's been divided up through time and is now smaller than it used to be,

it's still our little family compound, and we hold it very dear. Before my grandfather received the land in the 1860s, it was a plantation. Not our family, yes, they had slaves, so is that family's name even really worth mentioning? The family saw the Confederacy was losing the war, moved south, and...

And thus the union claimed the land, and then my grandpa received it for his service. To the union, thank God. Our farm saw skirmishes as soldiers marched to and from the Battle of Mill Springs. It's rumored there's actually a mass Confederate grave on the farm property, but we have never wanted to dig and confirm out of respect. Going back even further in time before it was settled as a plantation, the land was hunted on by Cherokee, Shawnee, and Chickasaw tribes. We found various interesting artifacts while farming over the years, arrowheads, a cannonball, old keys, even a slave collar.

We also have two small family cemeteries here. Basically, I'm trying to paint to y'all that our little patch of heaven has seen a lot of history that we are aware of. It sounds like somewhere that you need to go out with your metal detector. Oh, don't even get me started. It's metal detecting season. Is it? Yeah. I didn't know there were seasons.

Well, it's, I mean, here at least, because the ground is soft enough that I can actually dig. Yeah. You know, and it's warm enough. Everyone's out looking for their treasure. I'm ready. I was at the beach the other day. It was one of the last days that I could bring leash dogs on to this particular beach because they kind of cut that off during the peak summertime. But anyway, I was out there and I saw like three or four people metal detecting.

And I'm like, oh. my people it is time it is time I'm 32 and I have personally lived here since I was three as such I have three decades worth of ghost stories I could keep y'all here for hours telling you about how old ancestors

gift me marbles during times of grief shadowy ghost children orbs floating flashlights soldiers talking about battle plans the two confederate comrades that walk the hill boot stomping ghost cannons the ghost we've affectionate named Elmore, who beats on all of our doors in the spring and fall, disembodied whistles,

the hanging barn, a haunted machete we gave back to the forest, or even present-day ghosts, specifically two women who sadly passed in separate car crashes. But alas, time is limited. So today, I'll just tell you of ghost grandpa and the woman in white. You're hoarding all the ghosts, I feel like. Your house is my nightmare. I would not sleep. I would be scared.

So ghost grandpa. For years since at least when my grandpa was young, everyone would see an old man with a long beard and pre-1900's clothing. He never bothered anyone, but rather watched everyone with curious interest. My grandpa's first encounter with him was one night when the dogs all began barking. He looked out the window and saw this beardy man walking around the yard looking at my grandpa's old collector vehicles. Grandpa turned around to grab his gun to scare the man off,

turned back, the man looked at him, and then vanished as if he was never there. Years later, when my parents moved into my grandpa's house, they also began to see him. My dad would wake up feeling like he was being watched, and as soon as his eyes opened, the man would be standing over him staring, less menacing and more studiously.

Staring is staring when you're in a bed sleeping. Even if it's, with a studious, you know, air too. Unless it's like my mom looking over me to make sure I'm okay, I do not want someone staring at me while I'm sleeping. When my dad would sit up, the man would vanish. My mom would often also wake up around three to four in the morning to someone sitting down at her feet on the bed.

She could see an impression as if someone's weight was there, but would see no one. Knowing it had to be the man, she would tell him, it's not time for me to wake up, so go somewhere else. At which point, the weight on the bed would usually disappear, and if it didn't, she would go to sleep on the couch and leave my dad to his supervised sleep alone. One day, when my mom was on ancestry working on my dad's side of the family, she yelled, y'all, come here, it's him. Surely enough, it was my sixth great-grandpa, son of the one who originally got the farm. Turns out he liked the place so much he never left, and now he just visits all of us to.

see how his farm and the people on it are doing and what all has changed. He's family. That's cool that you recognized. You recognized a photo of him. From what you're seeing in an apparition. Yeah, that's crazy. This podcast is sponsored by Harvest hosts, and I'm really excited to talk about them because I used Harvest Hosts recently on my cross-country road trip from Vermont all the way to Idaho.

And it made the drive so much more fun. When you're covering that many miles, finding overnight RV spots can either feel like part of the adventure or just another stressful thing to figure out at the end of a long day. Harvest hosts made finding a place to stay along our road trip so easy. With a Harvest Host membership, you get unlimited overnight RV stays with no camping fees at over 9,500 locations across the U.S. and Canada. Instead of staying somewhere boring and expensive, we got to stop at really unique places throughout the trip. We stayed near farms, scenic ranches, and some incredibly peaceful spots with amazing views that we never would have found on our own. The mapping tool was probably one of my favorite parts because it made planning so easy. You can filter by attraction type, RV size, and your route, so it takes a lot of the stress out of road tripping.

The hosts were welcoming, the locations felt really safe and they were well reviewed, and it turned overnight stops into actual experiences instead of just a place to park and sleep. I also love that Harvest Host helps you discover small businesses and places you'd otherwise drive right past. It made the trip feel way more memorable from Vermont, Idaho, and everywhere between. Head to Harvesthost.com and use code NPAD30 for 30% off a Harvesthost membership. Once again, that's Harvesthost.com for 30% off and make sure you use our promo code NPAD30 so they know that we sent you. Are you one of those media strategy people clicking through slides, scrolling spreadsheets, Yes? Good. This is for you. Because on Spotify, there's an audience that's different, locked in, loyal, invested. They're called fans.

Fans don't just listen to music. They feel seen by it, like it belongs to them. So when your brand shows up on Spotify, that's who you're talking to. And you're right next to artists like me, Lizzo. So, are you ready to talk to fans? Spotify advertising. You're among fans. For now, in my opinion, the scariest soul on the farm, my grandpa would have said there was way more terrifying ones, but she's the only one they ever bothered. The woman in white. When I was in middle school, Christmas morning around 3 a.m., one of the only white Christmases we had had in the past decade or so, our game camera that hung in the woods on the power line caught a photo. Two shots before, the photos were of seemingly nothing but a snowy forest. The third, a woman, stared back at us. Total jump scare. She wore a white Victorian-style dress with a lace collar.

Her skin was white as paper. Her brown shoulder-length hair was matted with mud and twigs. She had a huge, deep gash running from her right ear down to her chin, and she had no eyes. Oh, no. Just black, vacant sockets. And we were terrified. As you should be. On a game camera, too, it's like, it's so nice, it's snowy and like, oh, look at the wilderness

and the animals and cute. And then it's just like Victorian woman with no eyes. Fuck that. One of my biggest fears is that I'm going to turn, like I'm going to put my truck in reverse. Oh, yeah. And the camera's going to pop up and there's going to be someone. Something like really scary person just in my camera, yeah. For years, I would never go out at night in the winter.

Fast forward to about nine years ago, my then three-year-old nephew looked out of the window at my parents' home and said, Who's that lady? She don't have no eyes. Three-year-old? God. It's even worse. There's something about children seeing ghosts that just... We all blankly looked at each other and then said, what lady? He said, she's right there looking in the window.

She has a... And she has a... Boo-boo. Remember the gash? Yes. I have goof bumps right now. Oh my gosh. After insisting to no avail that nothing was there, my sister-in-law asked if the woman scared him, to which my nephew just said, no, she's just hurt. We didn't see her again after that until five years ago, nor have we saw her since. I had just had my second miscarriage and was outside having a cry where my oldest wouldn't see me and felt like I was being watched. I thought maybe it was my husband coming to check on me,

but when I looked up, it wasn't him, I saw on the back porch. Instead, at the corner of our house, the woman in white was leaning around to watch me. I always thought I'd be so terrified if I saw her that I would genuinely pass out. Instead, in my madwoman state, I ran after her. And when I got there, she was completely gone. The way the fences run, there's no way a person could have escaped off somewhere without me seeing them run away.

It was as if she had simply vanished. I felt like she was honestly there to check on me and to see what was wrong. I felt peace rather than fear. The photo on the game camera was lost to a computer virus long ago. I know how that sounds, and yes, we were devastated to lose that proof. Flippin LimeWire downloads. My mom was pissed. Uh, okay.

That explains it we believe you know. It explains it all. When I was growing up, I always accepted that these were just ghosts. As I got older, I was conflicted and thought, if our loved ones go to heaven or elsewhere, how can they be here? If that's so, then are these souls reoccurring energy from bad experiences like memories? What are they?

I can't explain everything, but after losing my mom, yes, she is also buried on the farm now. I can now say I truly believe we do go to heaven when we die, but I also believe God lets us visit the people and places we love and visit often. I currently coexist with the dead as much as the living, it seems. Enjoy the view, but watch your back. You never know what soul may be watching you curiously, Amber. She's just hurt Cassie. Like, you know, it feels like with twigs in her hair and mud and all of that and a big gash,

and no eyes, this is going to be dark. But I feel like perhaps she in life got into some sort of accident, whether she got lost or she sustained some sort of life-threatening injury and she perished in the woods surrounding the farm. And then maybe like, you know, birds go after the eyeballs of things. So maybe she got her eyes eaten out of her head. I don't know why you would want to appear that way or if you have control of how you appear to others in the afterlife, it feels startling. I don't know.

I feel like if in the afterlife I can decide. Oh, what are you going to? What I'm going to appear? I can't wait for this. I think I would try to be scary. I just have never been intimidating in my life. So why can't I be intimidating in my afterlife? Forever, though.

Do I have to choose one form forever? For heels like for can I change? I feel like you could have the. power to change, but I just feel like when people usually say, I've been seeing the same apparition for 25 years. It's like they're always appearing the same. Yeah. I don't know. I feel like there's more than just like your appearance, you know, in the afterlife. Oh, yeah, for sure. Like, I feel like probably other souls and stuff wouldn't be seeing my appearance. I feel like that's a human experience. So. So you would want to project intimidation to

to humans. To humans. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. That's fine. It's so fun. It would be fun. I was looking at some of our YouTube comments the other day, which is very unlike me. I usually do not venture. Did you see the one where someone said that they thought I would do well in prison? Yes. Because I have been. I was going to say that.

I was like, oh, my God. Thank you. I have been riding that high for days. They literally said, I've personally been to prison. And I can say with authority that Cassie would do well. And I appreciate that so much. You know, part of me always thought maybe I would do okay too. And to have that confirmation, it feels good.

Yeah, ride that high. Yeah, I am. No, I would be a badass ghost and I would thrive in prison. Because you would be, was there reasoning? Because you would make friends with everyone. Yeah, they said because I seem like I wouldn't have bad things to say about people and that I would. I could handle a lot of different personalities at the same time. Which I think is true.

I am a drama, yeah. Yeah. I'm adaptable. The multiple personality thing is kind of your thing. Yeah. I'm multi-dimensional. Yeah. And we can just send the episode on that.

You haven't. Right. Right. Okay. My next story is titled Trail Angels and Horses in Utah. Hi, Cassie and Danielle. I discovered your podcast on a road trip to Glacier National Park in 2021 with my boyfriend. And we, of course, had to listen to Night of the Grizzlies while on our

way. After that first episode, I was hooked. You are both such great storytellers. We sadly, thankfully, did not encounter any grizzlies on that trip, but we made sure to take extra precautions because of that story. Danielle, I was so sorry to hear of Ian's passing. Your memorial show for him made both myself and my boyfriend turn into puddles. Thank you for offering us a glimpse into who he was. I know sometimes it can be hard to share intimate details. It's easy to be selfish. and keep them to yourself, but you continue to honor him in such a beautiful and brave way. Many of your stories about Ian and the signs that you find from both him and your dad have helped me navigate through my grief after losing my mom in January of 2023.

Because of your stories, I started asking my mom for direct signs, especially if I was out in nature. My mom had pancreatic cancer, and during one of her hospital stays, we made a plan. Once she finished her treatment, we would go to Utah together and see The Mighty Five. She had never been out west, so we spent so much time daydreaming about that trip. It became a beautiful escape for us, something hopeful to hold on to. As her condition worsened and treatment options ran out, that dream became even more important to us. The idea of going to Utah was one of the only things that still gave me a sense of hope. After she passed, I made it my mission to.

go. I planned everything out, mapped our route, and in October of 2023, my boyfriend and I packed our HRV and headed west. My mom had always loved horses, so before the trip, I asked for a sign. I wanted to see horses. Not just any horses, though. I didn't want to pass a farm and spot them on the side of the road. I specifically asked to see them out in nature, and I was really hoping for wild horses. Since we were camping and staying in more off-the-beaten path places, I figured that even if I didn't see them in parks, maybe I'd come across them near where we were staying. We started at Arches National Park, no horses.

Then Canyonlands, still none. At Capitol Reef, I felt especially hopeful with all that open land and orchards, but again, nothing. Our fourth stop was Zion National Park. I knew there were horse stables there, but we didn't plan to go near them. we were focused on hiking instead. Our plan was to hike the Emerald Pools and then head towards Scout Lookout. You will absolutely not catch me doing Angels Landing. We made our way through the upper and middle pools and ended at the lower Emerald Pools.

I know at some point we'd have to turn around and retrace our steps because one of the bridges along the usual exit route was closed. My boyfriend hadn't seen the signs though and kept going. And for some reason, I didn't say anything, even though I knew exactly. exactly what was ahead. Eventually, the trail leveled out and the area beyond the falls was absolutely beautiful. Little streams winding through the lush greenery along the Virgin River. I was really enjoying the break from the elevation game. It had been a busy day in the park, but we'd finally reached a quiet stretch where we hadn't seen anyone else for a while, in hindsight, probably because everyone else had seen the signs and turned around. Whoops.

As we continued, we came to the spot where the bridge was, in fact, close. The river was far too wide to cross. While we stood there debating whether to turn around or keep going, a woman suddenly appeared behind us seemingly out of nowhere. We hadn't seen or heard anyone on the trail in a while, so her presence completely caught us off guard. She looked just as unsure as we felt and explained that she hadn't seen the closure signs either. The three of us ended up standing there together, studying the map,

and trying to figure out the quickest way out. We found a side trail that climbed back up towards the upper emerald pools, but it was brutally steep, basically straight up, and I was in no shape to take that on, especially since we were already running low on water and had originally planned to refill earlier in the hike. After making it a short way up, a man came down towards us, no water, no pack, just regular tennis shoes, and told us we'd be better off turning around and continuing along the main trail that we had been on. He explained that if we followed it down the canyon, it would eventually connect to the Cayenta Trail and lead us out towards the Grata area near one of the shuttle stops. I remember questioning whether we should really trust advice from a man hiking without even a water bottle, but in the end we decided to go for it.

We turned around, headed back down, and followed the trail he pointed us towards, though by then he had completely disappeared. Not long after, we started noticing horse tracks, and then, very clearly, horse poop. That's when it hit me. We were on a horse trail leading towards the stables. The woman we'd been hiking with picked up her pace and moved ahead of us, eventually disappearing from view, and soon after, we started hearing voices echoing through the canyon. Then we heard it. The sound of horses coming straight towards us. We stepped off to the side of the trail just as a group of rides. came into view. One after another, they passed by, smiling, waving, and saying hello,

like we were exactly where we were meant to be. I remember just standing there, taking it in, it felt surreal. We kept going, and then another group of horses came through, and again we stepped aside as they passed more smiles, more waves. It felt like the trail had suddenly come alive in the most unexpected way. Not long after the horses passed, we came across something else. Wild turkeys moving through the area. It stopped me in my tracks. The last appointment I ever took my mom to, a turkey had suddenly flown right over our car. I remember being completely shocked. I had never seen a turkey fly before and almost hit it, but my mom just sat there, calm and unbothered with a soft smile on her face. Seeing them again out there on the trail felt like a quiet, familiar echo of that moment. At the time, I didn't fully see it for what it was.

I had asked for wild horses. I had imagined spotting them out in the middle of nowhere, maybe while camping or driving some quiet back road. This wasn't what I expected. But looking back now, I know that was my mom. It feels like she gently rerouted us, adding that unexpected detour so I could have that moment. And the woman we met, we never saw her again. I can't help but feel like she was some kind of trail angel. someone who appeared exactly when we needed her, guiding us forward when we weren't sure what to do.

The rest of the trail was absolutely stunning. Aside from those two groups of horses in our two brief conversations, we didn't see another person. It felt like we had the whole stretch of the park to ourselves. Eventually, we made it out, found the shuttle stop, refilled our water, and ended the day watching one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen. In the spring of 2024, my brother ended up purchased. a horse from a rescue in Florida. The horse had originally been rescued out west, part of a group of a wild, malnourished horses roaming in Utah. When they're picked up, they're branded with identification numbers, and by tracing that number, my brother learned that this horse had come from

Utah and had been gathered in October, the same exact month I was out there, asking for a sign in the form of a wild horse. What's even more meaningful is that this horse turned out to to be exactly what my brother had been searching for, the perfect fit for him. It's hard not to feel like in some way she didn't just answer me at that moment on the trail. She kept answering long after we came home. I just want to thank you both for all the work you put into these podcasts. I've learned so much about the national parks and after every episode I find myself adding a new one to my list. Danielle, thank you especially for inspiring me to ask my mom for signs.

Because of that, we were led on such an unexpected adventure and got to experience a side of Zion that we never would have seen otherwise. I'll include a photo of the horses and the turkeys. It's a moment I'll never forget. Truly, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Oh, so nice. Yeah. I totally agree. I think you got your signs that you were looking for.

The turkey was the cherry on top. Yeah. It was like just in case you're questioning this a little bit, here's the turkey. Yeah. I loved that. Well, thank you everyone for sharing all of your stories, as always. And for anyone that may be new around these parts, we do bonus stories for subscribers on Patreon and Apple. So we each will share one additional story in an extended episode that is available for those

subscribers and mine is titled Mountain Lion Prank Gone Wrong. Oh, Mountain Lion Prank. Okay. I'm picturing people in Mountain Lion costumes. Mine is titled Haunted Rocking Chairs Ghost Grandpa. Another ghost grandpa. Yep. We're on a theme. We are on a theme. All right, everyone, we will see you next week. In the meantime, enjoy the view. But watch you're back. Bye. Bye. We hope you learn something new and have another location to put on your list. If you want more MPAD content, make sure to follow along with our adventures on all socials at National Park After Dark. For more stories just like this one, with the added bonus of exclusive content, you can join us on Patreon or Apple subscriptions. If you prefer to watch our episodes, head over to our YouTube channel.

And if you're enjoying the show, please take a moment to rate, review, and subscribe on your favorite listening platform.