Nature Lovers Halloween Special | Forest Mystery Stories
FORESTS, NATURE AND MYSTERIES
Most of us love nature and it’s not hard to notice. In 2017, over 331 million tourists visited America’s national parks. That’s a tremendous number. It’s more than the entire population of the United States. Sure, some of those visitors were foreigners and many others were obviously counted more than once. But the number is still staggeringly high. Adding to that huge number are the myriads of hikers, bikers, hunters and fishermen who take advantage of our national, state, and privately owned forests and waterways to seek out the solitude, challenges and beauty of our wilder lands. Simply put, we are attracted to the raw beauty of God’s creation.
But we also know that nature is not safe. And that’s part of the attraction, right? There are grizzlies in Wyoming and Montana, mountain lions in the West and in Florida, black bears in nearly every state, pythons and crocodiles in Florida, wolves in several states, and water moccasins and alligators throughout the South. Each national park, national forest or forested tract has its dangers. One would think these would be a tourist deterrent, but many agree that the potential of encountering these dangers is the thrill that we look for in outdoor experiences. And because of it, by the millions, we flock to those places.
When I look at pictures of Switzerland, I admit it’s beautiful. But there is, at least for me, a sadness. Switzerland’s beautiful mountains, forested slopes and endless meadows are, unfortunately, fully and almost completely civilized. They’re scrubbed clean. The whole country has less than ten bears, no wolves, no big cats. Of course, if I lived there, that might appeal to me. But it’s not natural.
And in our forests, there are things that cannot be explained. Read any one of David Paulides’ eye-opening and very troubling books of his Missing 411 series and you will think twice about stepping into the wilds. Paulides doesn’t write fiction and his reports of countless real disappearances in the nation’s private and government owned forests will make you think twice about wandering into the woods. And here’s a hint. If you do decide to enter the forest, don’t be last in line and never let your kids get too far away. You ought to have a high caliber, concealed sidearm too. Just saying.
Do you have a scary or weird hunting, fishing, camping, hiking, mountain biking story? A real one? If so, shoot us an email, keep it clean, and if it’s good, we’ll repost it. I’ll start out with two short stories.
1. A young client and I were talking about deer hunting over lunch. He was an avid outdoorsman and hunter, so I asked him if he’d ever seen or heard anything weird in the woods. I ask that question often. Without hesitation, he spoke about routinely seeing odd stick and tree trunk formations in the woods. He spoke of tree limbs in the form of an X crossing game trails. He even found one on the trail he had hiked in on to get to his deer stand. He found it on the way back; it wasn’t there when he walked in. He spoke of four-inch diameter healthy trees broken off at the seven-foot level. There were other things and I believed him; I have seen these things myself while hunting.
But his oddest experience happened when he and his wife went camping not far from Suches, Georgia. It was cold and late in the season and they were out just to enjoy the outdoors. Hunting was not involved. The campground was empty, and he and his wife drove to the back of the campground. They preferred seclusion to being near the road. It wasn’t long before they set up camp, got a fire going and began to ready their dinner. It was dark. They were having a nice evening until they heard something coming off the mountain behind their campsite. He said that whatever it was, it purposefully stomped down the mountain, crunching leaves and snapping sticks as it came directly toward them. It was as if it wanted to be heard. He grabbed his pistol and waited. His wife was terrified.
Whatever it was stopped in the rhododendron thicket by the edge of the campground about forty paces away. There it stopped and started throwing leaves and making huffing and howling noises. It apparently wanted my friend to leave. They got the message and threw their tent and gear in their truck and somehow found the guts to extinguish their fire. They then sped away, out of the campground. They didn’t stop until they got back home to Roswell, Georgia. He assumed I was skeptical, so he finished by telling me that if it was a bear, then it walked on two legs all the way down the mountain. He shook his head and said, “It wasn’t a bear.”
Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. But whatever it was, it sure didn’t act like a bear.
2. This story took place about eight years ago in a private campground nestled in the mountains near Cleveland Georgia. A group of college students and members of a bible-study group decided to go camping for fun. I know several of them. They had selected the site, which was a large, mostly flat field bordered on the south by a creek. The creek was wide and about knee deep in some parts.
The other side of the creek was a steep forested hillside that formed a long ridge-line. The west part of the campground was formed by the right of way of a road. Though the campground was nearly empty, it seemed nice.
Two of the girls arrived early to set up camp. One had grown up camping and had borrowed her parents’ tents. For ease of telling the story and to retain their privacy, I’ll call the first one Reagan and the other Chloe. As they set up, Chloe was new to camping and she tried to help but she ended up snapping the primary support rod to the largest tent in half. Embarrassed and looking to help, she jumped in the car to go buy duct-tape — the college student answer to all things broken.
Reagan remained to keep setting up camp. About three minutes after Chloe left, a large black dog wandered over. Pleased to have a large companion, she leaned down to pet it. He tolerated the affection, but he kept an intent eye on the woods to the south. Reagan thought that was strange.
The dog moved in unison with the girl, only leaving her side twice to go closer to the creek and bark. At first, Reagan thought the dog was just a cute dog, but as the minutes passed, and she watched it gaze into the woods with a human-like glare, all the hair on her arms stood up. She felt something was off. She assembled the tent as fast as she could while praying silently for her friend to hurry up and return.
Chloe soon returned, duct tape in hand. The black dog then made his way back to the other side of the campground. Reagan wondered if she was “over thinking that entire thing." She kept her concerns to herself and they continued talking until the rest of the crew arrived.
They all decided to set up their tents along the creek where a small patch of forest invaded the field. It was flat and with woods on two sides, their campsite was private and cozy. The only other campers were about two hundred yards away along the creek and next to the road. The creek went under a bridge there and it seemed like a good place to camp.
The owners of the campground lived in a nice home on a hill across the field about five hundred yards to the north. They were pleasant. They were also the owners of seven or eight mixed breed dogs that were kept in a kennel close to their house.
The large black dog and another dog came back and visited during dinner. Reagan was relieved to see the dog again. The campers wondered how those two were the lucky ones that escaped the kennel. After dinner, it started raining, so they all scrambled into tents for the night. The dogs left.
Reagan and Chloe also crawled into their tent. They chatted a bit and finally dozed off. Around 2:45 AM, Reagan woke up quickly; she was afraid. She didn’t know why yet, but she knew something was very wrong. The same eerie feeling she had earlier that day was back, but far worse. She was frozen when she heard Chloe say, “Something is wrong.”
"I know" said Regan. She slowly leaned forward and grabbed a small pocket-knife from her purse. She laid back down and both were as still as they could be.
Then they heard a dog growl and could see the shadow of the same black dog from earlier. He was alone. "I know him" said Regan, relieved he was back. The dog was growling. A low, guttural growl that didn’t seem to end. He positioned himself at the front of the tent door; they could see his shadow which made the dog seem far larger than he actually was.
Then they heard something walking down the long, steep, forested slope on the other side of the creek. It sounded big. When it got to the far bank of the creek it stopped briefly before wading into the creek. They heard the splash. Each step sounded like a rock falling into the creek. It was getting closer. “It’s coming," Reagan whispered.
By this time, the dog shifted to the side of the tent nearest the creek and continued growling and barking. The dog seemed to be keeping it away from the tent. They could hear it walk out of the creek as it stepped into the patch of forest that jutted into the field. The dog stayed focused as the walking thing edged closer toward the back of the tent where it was closest to the woods. "I cannot breathe" said Chloe.
The two girls were terrified. They had no weapons so all they could do was pray. And they did. They prayed for protection and they prayed for the dog. And they waited.
When the thing crossed the creek and slid into the woods behind the tent, the dog came to the back of the tent and continued growling. It always kept itself between the thing and the girls in the tent. By this time, the dogs in the far-off kennels had gotten a whiff of the visitor and they started barking fiercely. Reagan said that it sounded like the dogs were throwing themselves at their fences to get out.
The thing stepped closer to the tent as the dog’s growls grew louder. The two girls watched the shadows on the lining of the tent. She saw the dog standing and facing away from her, growling, with its head low as it stared into the woods. Past the dog and still within the woods, she saw a dark, shadowy form briefly highlighted by the night sky behind it. The shadow was very tall, it had no neck, but it had shoulders. The girls heard it step back into the creek. The dog shifted to the creek side of the tent, growling as the thing walked down the creek, past the tents of the other girls and on toward the other campers near the road. The dog quit growling and after a few moments, it laid down at the tent’s entrance. The dogs in the kennels also quieted down.
The girls breathed sighs of relief, honestly shocked no other girl had woken up. But about fifteen minutes later, the thing was heard again walking back up the creek. They heard the big dog stand. Soon it started growling again. Once again terrified, the girls prayed as the thing got closer. When it came even with the girls’ camp site, it stepped out on the bank of the far side of the creek. Over the growls of the dog, they heard the thing retreat back up the slopes to the ridgeline behind them. The dog quit growling and soon laid back down.
Reagan and Chloe were exhausted, and they soon fell asleep. When they awoke only a few hours later, the sun had not yet risen but the clouds were catching the sun’s first rays. The campground was visible in the gray dawn. Sadly, their miracle guard dog was gone. They looked around their tiny campsite but the dog who bravely protected them had apparently gone back home.
It wasn’t long before the other girls started coming out of their tents. None of them had heard a thing of the prior night’s terrors. They had all slept soundly. Deciding not to share much of their experience, the two girls started to pack up. Their friends asked them to stay longer but they simply said that had to go back to school. It was time to go.
Reagan and Chloe did notice that the other campers, the ones along the creek near the road, were scurrying around their campsite and all but throwing their gear into their car. They were gone before the sun was fully up. While they could have been leaving early for any reason, Reagan said it looked like they were fleeing. I suspect they probably did.
The two girls believe to this day that the black dog was sent by God to protect them from something that was malevolent and very dangerous. Why else did the dog stay there? Why did it seem to be willing to risk its life for people it didn’t know? Why did it only leave when the walking thing left? Those were good questions.
When Reagan finished telling me the story, and without asking, Reagan told me that it could’ve been a very big human, it could’ve been something else, but it was not a bear. This I know: if it was a human or if it was something else that was curious about ten young ladies helplessly sleeping in tents, then that would be far more terrifying than a bear. And like them, I don’t think it was a bear. Not by a long shot.
I have more stories that I’ll reveal later. One of those stories is mine. Until then, Enjoy the Adventure!!
