The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 071 : The Timberbrook Hiking Trail Video

Episode Date: January 18, 2025

Did Anyone Else Watch The Timberbrook Hiking Trail Video As A Kid?Written by Moe TStarring Romy Evans as The WomanDane Scott as The NarratorTrevor Shand as Tour Guide 1Jeffrey Allen Sneed as Tour Guide 2https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1f744b3/did_anyone_else_watch_the_timberbrook_hiking/ Featuring Stephen Knowles as The Antique Dealer Theme music by The Newton Brothers Additional music byCO.AG ([e-mail]) Vivek AbhishekSUBSCRIBE us on YOUTUBE: https://bit.ly/3qumnPHFollow on Facebook : https://bit.ly/33RWRtPFollow on Instagram : https://bit.ly/2ImU2JV Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

L equals H. Welcome, Fred. Come in. Come in. You've chosen a fine day to wander into my little shop of forgotten treasures. The air is just crisp enough

to make you appreciate the warmth of a mystery. Don't you think? Ah, ha, ha. But what's this? Your attention lingers on a shelf not often noticed. Yes, an unassuming relic of a time.

not so distant, yet far removed from us in spirit. An old VHS tape. This one is stamped with fading letters that appear to read, The Timberbrook Hiking Trail Guide. Harmless enough at first glance, wouldn't you say? Here's where it gets. This tape has a story of its own to tell. So I must ask,

did you by chance ever watch the Timberbrook hiking trailer video as a kid. Before we begin, I want to point out some of the customers whose names have been etched in brass on this beautiful plaque I had made above the front desk. These are some of the members of the inner circle of the antiquarium. We go by the Obsidian Covenant. Recent initiates include Jonathan Lundy, Tim Tweed,

Ivy Jones, Ron Robinson, Tosh Rules, Porable, Tara Hines, Yolanda Peoples, and Stephanie Williams. We are ever appreciative of your devotion to The Order. Go to the Obsidiancovenant.com to receive the sacrament. Now, where were we? Oh yes. Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. Did anyone else watch the Timberbrook hiking trail video as a kid? Writing this from a locked room upstairs at my husband's cabin.

It was supposed to be our two-year anniversary, but now? I'm not sure what the fuck it is. For clarity, I just had a core memory unlock itself in unbelievably vivid fashion, and needed to write down the details in case they might ring a bell for someone else. The details surrounding the watching, kind of fuzzy, but I'll do my best. The details around the tape itself, oddly clear, despite all the time that's elapsed. It was third grade. A field trip to a nature trail.

The 30-minute bus ride, a remnant of a now bygone time, was boring. The wheels on the bus take you somewhere you'd rather not be. We arrived at the lodge-like area near the entrance to the trail. Entering, I recall seeing stations with water and coffee and donuts, presumably just for the grown-ups. And a sign-up sheet, resting on a kind of tall table that all of us had to fill in with name, date, time. It felt like the kind of place where a Smokey the Bear knockoff would give a talk about how fires are bad. add because trees are funable, you morons.

A local visitor center vibe, like, there is plenty to do here, but nothing really meant for someone my age. Sign-ups completed for our class of 30, tall humans around us tiny ones. And I hear the tour guide, slide our teachers speak up. Attention, everybody. Okay, all right, so who's excited to go on this trail? Huh? Muted response from the kids.

Okay, lively bunch. Yeah, fair enough. Off we go. We were shuffled like penguins to a space with rows of carefully arranged seats. A TV perched on a cart, just like the good old days. VHS player tucked into the shelf below. I was queen of back of the line, watching classmates in front grapple with the existential crisis, that is, making sure all your friends sit next to you so you know they actually like you.

That's when I heard a second tour guide, following closely behind, speak. Oof, looks like there might not be enough seats. why don't we take some of you to another room for the video? His bouncer light cutoff applied to the four of us at the end. As he redirected us to the hallway, I distinctly remember noticing that there were more than enough seats for everyone, with the kids in the room meticulously choosing their spots. Our gang of leftovers was brought to a much smaller room.

It looked like an extra big closet. Four chairs already set up inside. I crossed the threshold first and settled in. to one of them. The others followed. A tour guide turned on the TV. Pressed play on the VCR beside, dim the lights, and walked out, closing the door behind him. I then heard a click. It sounded like a door locking, but I wasn't sure. Our dark little nook had two faint sources of light, the brightness of the hallway barely squeezing through a small window. and the blue glare of TV as the presentation commenced.

A disarming, cozy, ambient tune laced with simple synth pads and light flutes met my ears. The title screen appeared. Timberbrook Hiking Trail Guide. Under the title, words broadcasted on a drop of expansive nature trail footage. The following tagline appeared. For a great hiking experience, a transition. into a new title screen. Supplies.

These words rested on a light green background with a picture of a cartoon backpack beside them. The music changed. A transitory bell chime, followed by a breezier and more upbeat arrangement. It dawned on me at the time of watching. 21 years ago today, that the video seemed dated.

Like, really, really dated. On screen, make sure your backpack has, and then video footage of different items with corresponding captions. Water. Snack. A compass. Shoes to wear. I glanced over at the other kids. They were trying their best to pay attention, albeit with drowsiness, marking their illuminated faces.

A new title card on the CRT in front of us. A hike. Words displayed on the screen with a light blue backdrop this time. This was followed by. A scene of arms linking with text at the bottom of the screen. Pick your buddy. Camera panning over a very clearly defined footpath in the woods. When walking with your buddy, follow the trail ahead of you. Make sure you're in line with the group. Don't stray off course. tips and tricks What followed this title card was a series of cartoon diagrams

looking straight out of an elementary school textbook with a tacky dated screen transition between each image and tip tip number one if you feel like you're lost stop right you are and listen to the sounds around you

you might hear the road or people talking nearby This lengthy bit of texts played across the screen beneath a drawing of a boy, standing in the woods with a hand to his ear, listening with a smile. Tip number two. If you come across a log, step on the log, then off the log. Do not step over it one leg at a time. This tip paired with a progression of images showing a kid, as one would indeed imagine approaching a log. stepping on and then off of it.

Tip number three. If you hurt your... Or have a wound. Words accompanied by the image of a kid holding out their bleeding arm. Then... A strange transition to clips of a real life bleeding arm now. Held out in the forest air. With each successive shot, the arm looks worse.

The bleeding, almost gangrenous effect. on the appendage growing. The stairs. A camera fixed on a lengthy staircase jutting out from somewhere in the woods. Architecture that looked very out of place. Don't take the stairs. Friends.

A fancy new title card over a light red background. The heading over top a display of cute cartoon woodland creatures huddled together, shifting to night footage. with captions underneath of... Squirrels, birds, foxes, sleepwalkers. Slow zoom in on a distant tree in the forest. Someone peeking out from behind the oak. A woman-like figure with black matted hair in a white nightgown.

Midnight. And suddenly, the comforting background music was gone. Amateur camcorder footage now of someone maneuvering. someone maneuvering the woods at night with only a minimal light source illuminating the uneven path. Text coming in, line by line, atop the footage. If you're still here, they'll be looking for you. There are many places you can hide. A transition to a nighttime shot of some trees.

Slightly shaky, but mostly still footage of some leaves on the ground. Still night? An even slower zoom in. on a distant entrance to a passageway or cavern. The dungeon. I felt the chair beneath me and remembered I was in a room with three other kids watching something.

My eyes were glued to the monitor. I didn't feel comfortable looking to my left or to my right. The imagery on screen wasn't resonating in any comfortable way. But the childlike fear in me told me if I stopped watching. It was hard to tell what I was looking at. The visuals on TV looked dark, thick, obscured.

Words that made no sense. But are the best descriptions I can muster. The sort of shapes you'd see with your eyes closed and palms pressed upon them. And I tried to piece together what it was. Text, in the color red this time, appeared to the bottom. The dungeon might be a safe place to hide in for a little while. The text disappeared faster than usual. Slowly the video began to clear.

The footage seemed to be taken in a dark, cluttered room. Tables, shelves, materials, tools, all sorts of items crowding the space. Near the top of the screen. It looked like a window. The sound of heavy breathing. It seemed like the video was recorded by someone crouching in the corner. They might never suspect you would hide in the same place they were planning to bring you to. Just don't stay there for too long.

Appeared on the window. Once again, there was daylight on the screen. Rivers, babbling brooks, and a friendly forest. A reprieve that made my nine-year-old self think about the best way to delete everything I had seen from my brain. My first tango with compartmentalization. Nature, just comforting nature scenes. Nature is beautiful. Take some time to appreciate its wonder

The text lingered for a beautiful while Before cutting to a new title card again The final one As I would find out The Cabin So sorry to have to press pause on the festivities I was just thinking What is a movie without some snacks

I'm just going to head out to the lobby Do the same if you must And I'll be right right back. Leave a message. Just left the shop, and there was a little turn I pointed to the basement. And I went down and said a bunch of cool stuff on the sign.

But I can't seem to find the way out. And everybody keeps playing me. It seems to be further back into the store. Could you come show me the way out or let me out? I'm getting dark. I've been down here for 15 minutes now. Wait, don't... Still with me.

Excellent. Now that our intimate... Mission is over. Let's be kind and rewind a smidge and get right back to it, shall we? Nature is beautiful. Take some time to appreciate its wonder. The text lingered for a beautiful while before cutting to a new title card again, the final one, as I would find out. The cabin. It must have been positioned high on a mountaintop looking down, at an expanse of forest from afar. Daytime at first, but the footage quickly revealed itself to be a time lapse,

trekking minor changes and movements before bringing us to the night. Then, for the third time, the camera began to pan, this time painfully, slow, delving deeper and deeper into the forest. Granular details sharpened as it zoomed in. While I wonder just how far you seemingly telescopic lens could go closer, further, and further until landing on, isolated, in pitch-black darkness. It didn't belong with the rest of the forest.

Lights on in all the rooms. A glare cast out on the dense woods surrounding. Do not go near the cabin. mechanical sounds as the camera pushed in slightly closer with a different clearness as if the lens suddenly changed. If you are near the cabin, do not go inside. Silhouettes of what appeared to be people within the cabin. If you are inside the cabin, do not leave.

It will be too late. And then starting to pull back away. and away and away from the cabin as... Who are nourishment to them. Timberbrook hiking trail guide for a hiking experience. Then the tape stopped. And it was just our smudged reflections on the TV now.

We sat in the still of the dark. No one moved an inch. The shared telepathic agreement we all seemed to fall under was pretend everything is okay. If none of us were ever scared, then we wouldn't give the game away. If it looked like we were all right, then we were all right. Right. The tour guide returned. He was hunky-dory as normal. All right, looks like you're all done. Ready to hike? A muted response from us, kids. He motioned for us to follow, and so he did. I'm not sure if it was a trick of sound

or hallucination, but I remember the guide whispering. Only to me it seemed. Best of luck. As we joined the larger group, whether this potential remark was tinge with sarcasm or sincerity, I wasn't sure the hike happened. It was mundane, barely any elevation. It wasn't a particularly dynamic path,

more like a trudge through some level open forest with an almost industrial-looking path leading the way through. Like any in-depth video guide on the how of maneuvering this was completely pointless. There was no way anyone could have gotten lost, and it looked nothing like the video we'd watched. Only one thing caught my eye on the trail. The insignias that had been carved deep into the trees, elaborate scrawls and markings all along the path. Then, it was all over. Quicker than one would have imagined, and I had to wonder if the larger group of 26 students actually saw the same tape that my group did, or if ours was different.

Now, some odd 21 years later, that same question cuts at the front of the line in my mind. As I reconcile with the bizarre childhood experience I'd severed from my head for so many years. It's my two-year anniversary, as I mentioned, at the beginning of this post. My husband pitched renting a cabin for the occasion. Something I enthusiastically jumped at. When it came to romantic gestures, this was more bombastic than anything he'd ever done and anything I'd ever experienced before. Our love story origins are pretty unremembered. remarkable. We actually met as a part of a local hiking group and struck it off immediately. Five years of boyfriend, girlfriend, two years of husband-wife. It's strange to me as I write all of this now that the

traumatic experience of watching the Timberbrook guide didn't subconsciously put me off of hiking forever. As I pushed myself to wonder why, I can't help but find those carved sigils popping up in my head again. Hubby and I drove into the secluded area, and as we got closer, there was a familiarity, a familiarity for the surroundings that I couldn't quite shake. The uneasy gut feeling was manageable at first. Unfortunately, when paired with my husband's increasingly bizarre behavior on the trip, became harder to ignore.

We were supposed to be spending quality time together at the cabin, I thought. Instead, he was quiet, stern, always looking outside, like he was waiting for someone. At night, after what I tried to justify

as just an unbelievably off day for him, I woke up to find he wasn't in bed. I left the room, creaked down the stairs to ground level, to see him sitting on a couch, and staring at the TV. The stairs. Before I even saw what was on screen, the musical chimes and soothing ambient tunes I heard back.

Don't take the stairs. Midnight. He was transfixed. I ran back upstairs and locked the door to the bedroom. After that, I tried to recall anything and everything. I cut about that video. I noted it down in this post. I'm really, really hard. Not to panic.

It's been an hour. I swear, the tape has looped ten times over, judging by the muffled and obscured sounds coming through the wall. It finally stopped only a few minutes ago. He's trying to reason with me. Tell me there's nothing to be concerned about.

That we should go outside. That he wants to show me something, cool, in the woods nearby. Passage in the ground. And he says it. As he says it, I can tell. There are other people standing there with him, trying to stay quiet.

It's only him talking, but still, I can hear their presence. I'm having to keep a part of me. That wants to jump out of the window and run into nowhere at bay. After all, I can see that there are people waiting outside too. Behind the tree. A full crowd. Look a fairy, very much like the members of that same hyacicrum. My husband, dad.

I can hear the tour guy's voice in my head again. More vivid. I'd say it. Sincerely. And. Best of luck. Best of luck. of luck.

Best of luck. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along its sordid history. It does come with our usual warning, however. Absolutely no refunds,

no exchanges, and we won't be held liable for anything that may or may not occur while the object is in your possession. If you've got an artifact with mysterious properties. Perhaps it's accompanied by a history of bizarre and disturbing circumstances.

Maybe you'd be interested in dropping it and its story by the shop to share with other customers. Please reach out to antiquarium shop at gmail.com. A member of our team will be in touch. Till next time, we'll be waiting for you. Whenever you close your eyes, in the space between sleep and dream. During regular business hours, of course, or by appointment, only for you, our best customer. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, Lod071. Did anyone else watch the Timberbrook Hiking Trail video as a kid?

Written by Mo T. Starring Romy Evans. as the woman. Dane Scott as the narrator. Trevor Shand as tour guide one. Jeffrey Allen Sneed as tour guide two. Featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer. Engineering production and sound design by Trevor Shand. Theme music by the Newton Brothers.

Additional music by Coag and Vivek Abyshech. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand. Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Antiquarium Pod. Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.