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  1. #1
    Wanna-be hiker trash
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    Default Ghost Stories - Folklore welcomed

    There used to be a member who had a signature line that said something along the lines of "Myth is the smoke of history, ignore the smoke, fan the flames and there you will find the embers of truth." Here I am asking for just that "stories" I love them and want to read them true of false. If you don't believe in ghosts, please pass by, we don't care that you're skeptical (okay fine, we do care, but not for this thread)

    Anyway, it's close to Halloween and I love a good ghost story, so here's the request: I don't care if it's established or unknown, real of fake, perceived or imaginary, if you have a good Appalachian Trail ghost story please share it. These mountains have a lot of history rumor and legend oesn't matter if it's personal experience, folklore, or whatever. Tell it, tell it well (preferably in detail) and you will have my thanks.
    Last edited by Sarcasm the elf; 10-15-2015 at 06:17.
    Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.

  2. #2
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    Nothing too spooky happened to me out on the trail, but I will say my first night in the 100 mile wilderness was a little creepy. My afternoon start had me trying to get to the Wilson Valley lean-to by dark which proved to be difficult for me arriving at the Big Wilson stream crossing right as the light really began to fade. Now maybe it's because I've spent my whole life in socal but it really never struck me how quickly the light goes away once the sun sets until that first night in the wilderness. After fording the river and having to take time to get my boots and socks on I realize that I would have to continue on into the dark which believe it or not after nearly 6 months on the trail I would have to dawn the headlamp while hiking for the first time. Of course as I get moving into the dark I realize that my headlamp batteries are practically dead (wouldn't you think I'd have checked that before stepping in...) but I only have a half mile to the shelter so this shouldn't be to difficult. Well now I start doubting myself as I'm sure that I have already walked the half mile and I haven't heard a peep or seen any sign of a side trail and my headlamp is putting out about as much light as a lighter and all I can think is that I missed the shelter. I finally did find the shelter which was occupied by just a couple of section hikers who were extra quiet but the whole self doubting thing had me a little rattled. I set up camp, gathered water and had dinner and tried my best to enjoy my first evening in the wilderness but I just started thinking of creepy Blair Witch kind of stuff which usually has no effect on me but this night I couldn't get buried in my sleeping bag quick enough, eyes shut tight with my flaps covering my face...I was scared. I know this really isn't a ghost story or anything like that but I am still amazed that after all that time on the trail I let my nerves get the best of me, and not like I was worried about a bear or some wild animal getting me but more like a witch creeping up to my tent and tapping on the walls. I survived the night with no signs of witches or goblins or any super natural activity going on outside my tent, go figure.

    As for a real ghost story...this was back in the late 80's I was driving to Mammoth Lakes(PCT trail town) from San Diego with my sister and her husband and my nephew. It's after midnight and we're driving up the 395 which runs south north along the desert floor with the Sierra Nevada Mountains rising to the west, basically paralleling the PCT passing trail towns along the way. Now there are some long stretches of absolute darkness as you roll through the desert and being that this was almost 30 years ago and a ghost story you have to trust me it was the dark stretch of highway that you only see in horror movies. My brother in law is at the wheel driving a healthy (or unhealthy) 100 mph as there are no cars, dwellings, or lights as far as you can see in any direction. Out of nowhere we pass a figure on the side of the road which can best be described as a ghostly woman wearing an antique style dress like you would see a woman wearing in a western saloon, but there was no color, just shades of ghostly gray. Neither one of us said anything right away until my brother in law looked over at me and asked if I just saw that...and I replied, yes I did. Now again we were flying down the road so it's hard to say exactly what we saw but we both agreed that it was a woman in a raggy dress and she had one arm raised into the air. There was no doubt in our minds that if there ever was a ghost that we had just seen one, and there was not a chance in the world that we were going to turn around and go check. My sister and nephew were both asleep in the back seat so they missed it, but to this day my brother in law who swears he doesn't believe in ghosts has no explanation for what he saw that night.
    So any of you who are planning on the PCT, beware of late night hitches down into the valley floor towards Ridgecrest as I'm sure that woman is still wandering around somewhere out there!

  3. #3
    GSMNP 900 Miler
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    Hope a GSMNP ghost story is close enough.


    Over a long Veteran's Day weekend, I took my 7yo for a two night hike along Hannah Mountain Trail. We drove thru the night and arrived at the entrance to Cades Cove early enough to be 1st in line to enter the Cove that day. We ate pop-tarts in the car for breakfast while we waited for the park ranger to come unlock the gates at day break. Once in the Cove, we headed for the Visitor's Center for a last pit-stop where we were greeted by a herd of deer. From the Visitor's Center, we drove down Forge Creek Road where we saw a pair of bears still trying to fatten up for the winter. We parked at the trail head for Gregory Bald trail and hiked Parson's Branch Road to get to the Hannah Mountain Trail Head. Only a single car passed us as we walked the 3 miles along Parson's Branch Road, and we soon found ourselves on Hannah Mountain Trail.

    Weather was cool and crisp, the trail was gorgeous with a thick layer of autumn leaves on the ground. Before noon, we reached our campsite for the 1st night, Flint Gap (BC#14). But the campsite is rather small and sits right by the trail. I knew from the online website for permits that no one else had reservations for any of the campsites in the area. So after eating some lunch, we decided to move on and spend the night at Scott Gap (BC#16). Along the way, we passed a day hiker heading back towards the trail head; presumably the person from the car that passed us on Parson's Branch. It would be the only person we would see while in the back country on this trip.

    Arrived at Scott Gap with plenty of time to setup camp, make dinner. Even had enough time to gather some fire wood and build a nice fire to drive away the chill that set in as the sun went down. Soon we retired to our tent where a long need sleep awaited us.

    Some time in the middle of the night, about 3am I estimated, I woke up and heard a strange noise I had never heard in the GSMNP. The sound was distant, but obviously loud at the source, and my mind was racing as I tried to discern the source. It wasn't dog-like, so it couldn't be a coyote. It wasn't hoot-like, so it couldn't be an owl. As I tried to place the sound, only one thing came to mind... Scooby Doo... the ghost sounds from Scooby Doo. For those that have seen the original Scooby Doo cartoons, simply listen in your minds ear that fake ghost 'woooOOOooo' sound, complete with that pitch that rises and falls as the sound is made. That was exactly the sound I was hearing miles deep in the back country. At this, I was clueless and my heart started beating a little faster. Halloween was over more than a week ago, and we were too far away from civilization for this noise to be coming from a 'Haunted House' type attraction. My mind raced with crazy ideas, like a murderous satanic cult holding a post-Halloween ritual deep in the woods, and I was glad I wasn't staying at the camp site where the online reservation system would indicate the whereabouts of a pair of people alone in the woods. I finally decided to just try to calm down, keep reminding myself that "no body knows we're here" and go back to sleep... followed by abandoning plans to spend a 2nd night in these woods until I could learn what the heck was haunting theses woods.

    When I got back home, I called my older brother up (he has spent many more nights in the GSMNP that I) to see if he had any idea what we heard on our camping trip. He immediately said "bobcat". At first, I thought that sounded like a crazy idea. This noise didn't sound anything like a cat. Even Googling 'bobcat' only turned up references to people describing bobcat cries like that of a baby crying or a woman screaming in terror.

    Finally, I came across a YouTube video entitled "Urban Bobcats". The video shows two bobcats in a typical neighborhood vocalizing at each other. Listening to the cats in the video, my mind could easily add some mountain echo and I once again could hear the ghosts that haunt GSMNP.
    Last edited by HooKooDooKu; 10-15-2015 at 13:17.

  4. #4
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    Not really a ghost story, per se, but late in my Boy Scout career, I was the Senior Patrol Leader and my father was one of the adult leaders. The troop was on a camping trip and one evening everyone was gathered around the campfire telling stories. About 20 yards away through the woods we could see one of the troop's cooking fire circles. That group had not done a good job of extinguishing their cooking fire and every now and then the wind would blow up the fire for a few seconds before going out again. A number of the scouts noticed this and my father noticed that they noticed it, so he got up and said "I see you all have noticed the fire up there lighting up periodically. Well there is a scientific explanation for this". It was well known in the troop that my father was a research scientist for the USDA, so they expected this kind of campfire story from him. He started out with a technical explanation of the science of fire, but the story gradually morphed to a discussion of invisible aliens, kidnapped scouts, and late night cremations. I just rolled my eyes and thought "you've got to be kidding". But later that night, about every hour for the whole night I was awaken by a sobbing Tenderfoot at my tent door scared to death of being cremated by invisible aliens. I don't think I will ever forgive my father for that lost night's sleep.

  5. #5

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    Not ghost, but according to Cherokee folklore, little people live in area of Appalachia, in places such as western N. Carolina https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojUrLjYZZAU

  6. #6

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    My brother/hiking partner (Stick) and I (AT Section Hikers, always SoBo) were staying at the Punchbowl Shelter, one night in July of 2013. I'd been dealing with cluster headaches for a couple of weeks and had not had a good night sleep during that time (Note: trust me, you have no idea how nasty those headaches can be). We had a third hiker, a really nice guy in camp with us. We spent a relaxing few hours to eating, jaw-jacking, and relaxing. Hiker midnight arrives. We're all three in sleeping bags in the shelter. Stick and the third hiker (Matt, ? trail name) are asleep a few hours later when splitting headache #99 hits me like a bot of lightening. Exhausted I wake up, sit upright and swing my legs over the edge of the shelter. I'm alternately bending over, holding my head and then stretching my neck by looking up. In my delirium (remember, 2-3 weeks on almost no sleep), I look up an little Ottie Cline Powell is walking around the edge of the pond towards me, alive and well and getting closer and closer. And since he's been dead since 1891 or so, when he died of exposure about 2 miles away on the mountain that looms over the shelter, I'm about to scream out loud. I look down at my sleeping companions, and when I look back, little Ottie is gone. Next morning, we hike up Bluff Mn and see his memorial. I know it was a function of sleep deprivation and imagination -- I had read about it just recently -- but it was scary and haunting.

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    I met the 'Spirit of' Ottie at the Punchbowl 'haunted' shelter of the AT. Funny thing he is a angel and not a ghost haunting it as we commonly hear it, he takes care of children there usually by directing the hearts of adults who are open to the care of children as how it is best to be done, this extends to the animal kingdom as a adult bird was directed to a certain spot to help her chicks. But yes a supernatural being is there, ghost or not.

  8. #8
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    Quote Originally Posted by HooKooDooKu View Post
    Hope a GSMNP ghost story is close enough.


    Over a long Veteran's Day weekend, I toop awaited us.....I once again could hear the ghosts that haunt GSMNP.
    Great story. If anyone ever puts together an anthology of short AT stories, that one would be a wonderful addition.

  9. #9

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    Don't have a story, but there's a couple of places close to the AT in Connecticut that have long fascinated me. First, the old mental hospital at Wingdale. Wow. First time I drove by it, probably 30 years ago, my eyes were big as tennis balls. Been past it hundreds of times since, same general feeling. That place is creepy. AT crosses Rte 22 just a short distance away.

    The other -- and I haven't really been able to explore this, because word is you'll be arrested if you even try -- but Dudleytown, near Cornwall. Some say it is a genuine ghost town, and there are many eerie tales of the place. Old AT used to run by here, new trail is across the river a few miles away.

    Just thought I'd mention these.

  10. #10
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    Late at night, way out on a lonely old road, Johnny and Francie were out in a parked car, doing what young teenage boys and girls normally do when they're out in parked cars, late at night, on lonely old roads.
    Finally, it got so late, they knew they'd better wrap it up and head for home. So, with great reluctance, Johnny started the car. After only about 50 feet, that old Chevy started sputtering - and that's when he realized he had been so preoccupied with the possibilities of the evening, he had forgotten all about the fact that it needed gas - and now, 1:30 in the morning, 4 miles from anything, on that dark, mid-November night, and they were out.
    Johnny told Francie to lie down in the car, and keep her head down until he returned. Then he got a gallon can out of the trunk and headed off.
    An hour went by. Two hours went by. Francie stayed down, shivering from the cold, shivering more from the fear.
    All of a sudden a bright light shined thru the driver's window. "Hello in there!", the voice loudly shouted. "Don't look up!" "Don't look up!" But Francie could see the cop looking in the window. And she did sit up.
    And there, on the hood of the car......

  11. #11
    Wanna-be hiker trash
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    Quote Originally Posted by jefals View Post
    Late at night, way out on a lonely old road, Johnny and Francie were out in a parked car, doing what young teenage boys and girls normally do when they're out in parked cars, late at night, on lonely old roads.
    Finally, it got so late, they knew they'd better wrap it up and head for home. So, with great reluctance, Johnny started the car. After only about 50 feet, that old Chevy started sputtering - and that's when he realized he had been so preoccupied with the possibilities of the evening, he had forgotten all about the fact that it needed gas - and now, 1:30 in the morning, 4 miles from anything, on that dark, mid-November night, and they were out.
    Johnny told Francie to lie down in the car, and keep her head down until he returned. Then he got a gallon can out of the trunk and headed off.
    An hour went by. Two hours went by. Francie stayed down, shivering from the cold, shivering more from the fear.
    All of a sudden a bright light shined thru the driver's window. "Hello in there!", the voice loudly shouted. "Don't look up!" "Don't look up!" But Francie could see the cop looking in the window. And she did sit up.
    And there, on the hood of the car......
    ...

    Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.

  12. #12
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    Aw drat! I didn't know you'd already heard it!

    (really....., it was supposed to be Johnny's severed head! but, I DIDN'T WANNA SCARE YA!!!!!!

  13. #13

    Default Betsy @ Mizpah Spring Hut

    The story of Betsy as told to me, and a group of about 10 13 year olds, by a member of the hut croo:

    Years ago a mother, father and their young daughter Betsy (about 6 years old) were camping near the Mizpah Spring Hut. A storm blew in, temperatures dropped and heavy rain caused a flash flood. Betsy fell into a raging stream and was whisked away. Someone ran into the hut and called for help, perhaps one of Betsy's parents. A search ensued, and sadly, Betsy's cold, dead body was found half a mile down the mountain side in the stream bed.

    Croo members carried Betsy's lifeless little corpse back to the hut, and placed it in a body bag, and put on a table in the cold cold storage area under the hut, to be brought down to Crawford Notch the next day. That night the wind howled with the last remnants of the storm, and Betsy's parents thought it sounded a bit like little Betsy's voice murmuring for their help.

    In the morning the croo went down into the basement to retrieve the body bag and start the sad journey down the Crawford Path. When they walked into the room, they were surprised to see that the body bag was no longer on the table, it was on the other side of the room. When the bag was opened, they discovered that it had been clawed at and scratched - and material from the body bag was under Betsy's fingernails.

    Eventually, everyone came to realize that Betsy had not drowned in the flood, but had been hypothermic and unconscious. During the night, she warmed up and became conscious enough to try and call for help while clawing at the body bag. Slowly, she suffocated and died in the early hours of the morning.

    In the room where the croo sleeps there are a series of bunks. In one specific bed, said to have belonged to the croo member who zipped the body bag closed, people who now sleep there awake late at night, unable to breathe. It is as if someone is pushing the air out of their chest. Now, no croo member will sleep in that bed which is said to be haunted by the ghost of Betsy.


    After hearing this story, several of the kids, including my daughter, had a hard time getting to sleep that night. Once my daughter dosed off, I went back to the hut's library area to get my water battle. As I returned to my bed, I passed by the door to the croo's room and saw that someone was sleeping on the floor below an empty bunk.

    The story can be found in an edition of Appalachia from the early 70s - a copy is in the Mizpah hut's library.

  14. #14
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    AT ghost stories ... let's see, which ghosts are supposed to haunt the A-T?

    Doc Benton! He haunts Moosilauke. http://newenglandfolklore.blogspot.c...on-doctor.html - the broken link to the 'student newspaper' in the article should be http://thedartmouth.com/2008/05/09/t...gend-the-lodj/ . A lesser-known ghost, Daniel Welch, is said to haunt the Great Gorge south of South Peak, and is occasionally seen on the carriage road between the Hurricane Trail and the Snapper Trail. http://www.cowhampshireblog.com/2007...t-moosilaukee/

    Farther south, there's Claudius Smith.

    Claudius Smith is most often reported at his Den on the Tuxedo-Mount Ivy trail in Harriman. (I don't know, I've slept in the Den and never met him.) The story of his life is eerie enough - the infamous Cowboy of the Ramapo, a notorious Tory and horse thief. Horse Stable Mountain was one of his hideouts, the eponymous Den in Harriman was another.

    He's been spotted riding in the park on foggy nights, using the ancient roads - such as Johnsontown Road and what's now the 1777 Trail, so look for him near Elk Pen, near Island Pond, in Beechy Bottom, and between West Mountain and Bear Mountain. He wears a blue broadcloath overcoat with silver buttons. An important detail if you're telling the story - these things are improv theatre after all - is that if he's not barefoot, it's an impostor. Smith goes barefoot: contemporary accounts tell that Claudius Smith kicked off his boots before he was hanged, because "My mother said that I would die like a Troopers horse, with my shoes on. I want to make her out the liar that she is."

    There's also a tale of a carving knife that incites its owner to murderous deeds. Smith had been buried in a shallow, unmarked grave just outside the Presbyterian churchyard in Goshen. A resident who walked with a crutch discovered the grave by accident by having the crutch penetrate it - and the lame man died from the fall. The bones were taken up and stored in the cellar of a shop nearby. A blacksmith in Goshen had an order for a carving knife. Lacking a suitable piece of antler for a handle, he stole a thighbone and fashioned a handle out of it. Poetic justice for the murderer? But Smith had his revenge: the wife of the good burgher who purchased the knife found herself one night standing in horror with the knife in her hand over the bloody corpse of her six-year-old daughter. She died in a madhouse south of Middletown.

    His skull is bricked into the wall above the main entrance of the Orange County courthouse in Goshen. Apparently doors have been slamming there since the nineteenth century, with no wind to propel them.

    There is material for a dozen good Claudius Smith ghost stories at http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb....ct&fiction.htm
    I always know where I am. I'm right here.

  15. #15

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    I've told this before, but will tell it again for anyone that missed it.

    In 2007 I was at Watauga Lake Shelter, as hiker midnight approached and everyone retreated to their sleeping bags, the night was uneventful; at least for most of us. The next morning two separate hikers (that didn't know one another) reported seeing floating orbs/balls of light dancing around in front of the shelter -- I was camping in my tent behind the shelter, so I did't see crap. The two hikers were very animated in their descriptions and basically just wondering what the hell it was -- The conversation basically started like this:

    Hiker #1 - I saw some strange lights floating around in front of the shelter last night.
    Hiker #2 - (In a very surprised voice) Yeah, hey I saw that too!! What the hell was that...!
    Hiker #1 - I don't know, I've never seen anything like that before.
    Hiker #2 - Me neither, for a second I thought I was dreaming, but after rubbing my eyes it was still there.


    And they went on for a little more.... What it was, I guess we will never know. Someone mentioned them possibly seeing lightning bugs...They laughed that off as a possibility...

  16. #16
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    Quote Originally Posted by Sarcasm the elf View Post
    ...

    Not fair! I just burst out loud laughing ... I'm not supposed to be on the internet! Good thing the boss is at lunch!!!
    "Life is pure adventure, and the sooner we realize that, the quicker we will be
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  17. #17

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    I was hiking by myself in the Pecos wilderness looking for Katherine Lake to camp for a few nights. The elevation was surprisingly straight up as my map did not indicate that and they usually do and the heat was more wicked that day than usual. I still had 2 liters of water left but realized the distance on the map I had was off by several miles. (I was correct, later I bought a two more maps and both had several more miles added to the course I was on). Anyway, since the miles were off I found myself on the trail and it getting darker and my water getting less and less as I tried to get closer to my destination. Now I am a pretty level headed person and have hiked many times low on water and in the dark but for whatever reason I had some feelings of being unsettled that night and I could not shake the feelings of eerieness as I kept plodding on hoping to get to the lake soon. I knew if I got close I would be able to see it even at night as the moonlight here is very bright and then I could tent down for the night and hike early the next morning to it and retrieve more water.
    But until then I had to keep hiking, and just when I was close enough to see the lake I also could hear music. The relief that flooded through me upon hearing signs of civilization was astounding and I felt myself hike a little faster to get to the music and people. Just as I rounded the corner to approach the campsite I heard the music turn down a little and a guy say to others that they needed to find some women (not the word he used but you get the idea).
    It was then that I got a good look at their camp to compare the image of so called civilization I had in my head to what I was really running into. There before my very tired eyes were a group of about eight to ten males, very drunk, all shirtless and partying like the dudes from the show Animal House. Two were having a beer can crushing contest on their foreheads, four more were using what looked to be a Marijuana bong and the rest were elaborating on what they would do if they found some women. Trust me when I say no woman I know would of willingly participated in what they were hoping to do. It was pretty clear this civilization was not exactly as civilized as a lone woman hiking would want to enter into by herself.
    I decided my best bet was to try to find another way around to the lake or back track a little and make camp for the night hoping tomorrow would find the party hardy boys either going home or sobered up a bit. As I started to slowly back up hoping to not draw attention to my presence I overheard one of the boys tell the others they needed to walk around the lake looking for chics and as they discussed it they decided to split up, two would walk around the lake and two would hike up the path a bit to see if they could find some. Unfortunately for me up the path a bit was towards me. Never in my life had my poor tired little body get such a surge of adrenaline. It is amazing what fear can do for you energy wise. I ran as fast as I could down the very path I had so tiredly walked down minutes before. I ran as if I was in a marathon shooting game for first place at the finish line. I went back at least a mile and then decided another mile and a half would be safer.
    Finally coming upon a nice meadow spot far from the drunk party boys I stopped to tent for the night. I hung up my food bag like a good hiker having seen a small bear earlier in the day, I set my tent up, barely ate any supper since I was near exhaustion at this point and pretty scared from what could of been a very nasty situation and crawled into my sleeping bag for the night.
    You would of thought I would of fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but no, instead I let my nerves get the better of me. Every little sound I was certain were the partying boys and the more sounds day I heard the more my heart beat faster. Soon I decided I was being silly, after all according to my watch I had been in the tent for at least two hours scaring my silly self to death, surely if they were coming this far down the path they would be here by now. Having realized that, I started calming down and sleep soon overtook me.
    Sometime later I awoke to hear a noise outside my tent. Now I have no idea why but whenever I am by myself in the wilderness every noise outside my tent sounds huge and that night, it sounded very huge. Hoping that it was not some thing bad and confident it was not the guys from earlier because I was pretty sure they could not walk without jabbering as drunk as they were I felt my safest course of action was to unsheath my knife and ready my bear spray and just wait it quietly out. I believed that the noise was most likely a raccoon and my imagination was making the sound bigger than what it really was....I was wrong.
    Just as I convinced myself the noise was nothing that could me do any damage I heard the sound move closer. I buried myself in my sleeping bag further as I saw the garage tent flap start to move. I realized something was partly under the tent so I peered my eyes closer to try and make out what I was seeing, still unable to figure it out I turned on my head lamp and shined it on the ground to see one very large cat paw. Then I heard the distinctive growl. I quickly shut my light off, pulled my knife and spray closer and shrunk my body into my bag as best as I could. Then I prayed, I prayed to God, to Jesus and to saints, I said the Hail Mary and sang in my head church songs intermixed them with some more of the Lord'said prayer and Hail Mary's....anything to keep myself from screaming. I knew that paw, I had seen them before, not that exact paw, but one like it and I knew it meant mountain lions. Now most people are scared of bears or snakes, but me, I am scared of a mountain lion. I have seen one tear a person up before. I know I may be able to defend myself against a bear, at least enough to live, but I also knew there was no way I could defend myself against a big cat.
    Considering the day I had up to that point I felt beaten. I knew I did not have enough strength or energy to take on such a large animal and all I really wanted right there and then was to go home and sleep for two days in my bed safe and sound. So I laid there, quiet as a bug in a rug with my large knife and spray that probably would of not done much good, but still I stayed, very very quiet, praying.
    Eventually the cat left, what seemed like hours later and the sun rose shining as bright as could be. I admit, at this point of sheer exhaustion, no sleep, spending the entire night scared and very little water I hiked back towards my car. I did not stick to the trail, I bushwhacked onto private property and filtered some fresh water from a stream. By nightfall I was home back in my bed trying to shed the feelings of fear and uneasiness I had lingering from my two close calls. I did report the cat to the rangers, they said they had another report from a group of guys, apparently the cat made an appearance at their party and I reported them partying as well. I still to this day have no idea why I had bad feelings all day, but I do know I am glad I decided to go home. Sometimes you just have to know when to call it a bust. Not exactly a ghost story but let me tell you, had you been there, you would of seen just how scared this girl was that night.
    Life is not about finding yourself, it's about creating yourself.

  18. #18

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    This guy claims to have seen a bigfoot at the beginning of his AT thru-hike, but sounds kind of like a silly story.

    BTW, there is no video, just audio, but there's a still photo of a shelter. It looks a little like Black Gap Shelter...anyone agree? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WS7cuqxLY2k

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    I saw a shadow person at Sweetwater Creek State Park a few years ago. I was out geocaching on a section of trail that was not in use because of a washed out bridge. The remains of the bridge contained a clue to a puzzle geocache, so I was there looking around trying to find it.

    I had the feeling that I was being watched, and when I looked up the hill there was a completely black figure, devoid of any shading or discernable features. That was one of the few times in my life that I was truly frightened.

    At that point, I took off on to the trail that ran by the creek headed toward civilization. The road that the shadow figure was on was at a right angle to the creek. This was in January, so there was really no leaves or foliage. About 40 to 50 yards into the trail, I looked back through the woods and so absolutely nothing.

    I'm absolutely sure that I saw something standing on the road up the hill. I took three or four good looks. If it hadn't spooked me so much, I would have taken time out to take a photo.

    Sent from my SM-T800 using Tapatalk

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    ^^^^^Interesting story, reminds me of a fearful event that use to haunt me, but no more...

    There seems to be something about our emotions, especially fear that some things seem to feed off. I use to (years ago) experience sleep paralysis. (btw, I do believe there's a paranormal and a conventional -- or medical form -- of sleep paralysis, but I'm not really sure what I experienced).

    These bouts I had were of your typical scenario where I could feel a presence and I just couldn't move and it was terrifying, like I was completely vulnerable to whatever was present. However, over time I started to somewhat enjoy these experiences; I'm not exactly sure how conscious I was vs. in a dream-like state, but regardless I was very aware of the situation and knew I was entering into another sleep paralysis episode, but like I said I started focusing on what was preventing me from moving and fight it and I actually liked that feeling from it -- sort of like a jolt of liquid electricity would shoot thru me, that is the best I can describe it.

    I got to the point where I would kind of look forward to these experiences and I ended up only having a couple more and then they just stopped. It's been years and still haven't had one.

    You hear this a lot in the paranormal world about there possibly being entities that feed off our emotions, especially fear and while I don't believe much of what I hear from many of the paranormal types, I do think there is something to that.

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