Campers of Reddit, What's The Most Disturbing And Creepy Thing You Have Seen While Camping?

Campers of Reddit, What's The Most Disturbing And Creepy Thing You Have Seen While Camping?

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Campers of Reddit, what's the most disturbing and creepy thing
you saw while camping? Story one. This was around two
thousand six Lamar Valley, Yellowstone National Park. A man and
woman pulled into the turn off where I was parked
and proceeded to walk about fifty feet down the hill
to set up a nice little picnic spread. After laying

(00:20):
out their blanket, I expected them to unload their food,
but no. In the basket were about twenty five various
sized stuffed animals, beanie babies, large stuffed plushies, and so on.
They then proceeded to have a play date with them.
I couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but it
was obviously sensual. I watched them for several minutes before

(00:41):
leaving and spent the remainder of the day fishing around
the park. Around dusk, I returned to my camp site
to find them two sites down for me. Of course,
all the plushies were set up at the picnic table
in front of the fire. Once fully dark, they retreated
to their tent and proceeded to engage in lude acts
with the plushes. I will not repeat everything I overheard,

(01:03):
but I can assure you that I heard one of
them say, push it out like it's your little fuzzy baby.
It will remain with me for the rest of my life.
Their silhouettes in the tent will never leave my mind. Anyway,
I left and drove to another campground halfway across the park.
Before we continue, do us a quick favor. Smash that
like button and subscribe to support our channel. Story two.

(01:25):
I am from the southern Utah area. I am literally
a twenty minute drive from the Arizona border, which is
a hot spot for skin walkers. When we got to
my campsite, there was a deer carcass that had been
thrown all over the site. This freaked me out because
no animal in any southern Utah desert is big or
strong enough to completely attack like this, and the body

(01:48):
was fresh enough that no bugs had reached it yet,
which meant this was likely an active hunting ground. My
camping buddy didn't listen to me, and we stayed the
night without switching spots. Some time after midnight, weird stuff
started happening. There were these strange animal sounds I had
never heard in my entire life. We googled all the
scariest animal noises the next morning and found nothing that

(02:11):
sounded like this. It sounded like someone gasping sharply for
breath for a long time. The sound traveled insanely fast.
One second it was right next to our tent, the
next it was thirty feet away. I was freaked out
of my mind, and my dog was sitting straight up
and didn't budge. She was growling, but didn't make any
other noise. We left the second the sun came up

(02:33):
and never went back to that spot again. I didn't
believe in skin walkers until that night. Story three. I
went on a family camping trip in Austria as a kid.
The campsite was in a forest and my dad picked
a nice spot between some trees. Unfortunately, our tent wouldn't fit,
so we had to move along a bit. That night,
there was a massive storm and I remember my parents

(02:55):
tying the tent to the car and spending most of
the night holding the tent down. In the morning, we
woke up to a bright, sunny day. We opened the
tent to find a two foot thick tree lying across
the spot we originally picked. If our tent had fit
in that spot, we probably would not have lived my
mom cut the trip short. At that point. Story five

(03:17):
I was camping up near Mount Baker in Washington State.
When we arrived at the campground, we looked at the
bulletin board and saw a missing person poster. We thought
nothing of it, as he had been missing for a while.
According to the notice, he went out on a stormy
night and never came back. It also mentioned that he
didn't know how to swim. We went kayaking on the

(03:38):
lake and paddled around for a while. On our way back,
we noticed a strange smell in a certain area of
the lake. It was near the swimming area, which was
roped off with buoys and markers. As we kayaked toward
the spot where we had entered the lake, we noticed
something under one of the buoys. It was the missing
man's body. He was stuck underneath one of the buoys

(03:59):
near the swimming area. There were a bunch of kids
swimming there and apparently no one had noticed. We alerted
the police, who had been looking for him. They closed
the swimming area, I believe, and we left early. There
were also weird noises while we were camping there, and
we could hear rats scurrying around. Story five We went

(04:20):
to an empty campground in the mountains of California. The
weather was bad in January of either twenty sixteen or
twenty seventeen. We were set up near a small river,
cooking a late dinner in the dark. After nightfall, my
old dog, a husky, started absolutely losing his mind. He
was screaming and barking at something beyond our lantern light,

(04:41):
off toward the river. I flipped on my headlamp and
it was a mountain lion. It stared back at me
for a second or two, then turned and I lost
it in the bush. I had something similar happened deep
in the woods of Kentucky. My buddy and I were
hiking to our campsite at night. It was pitch black.
Beyond our lights. My friend said he saw the reflective
trail marker ahead. We both looked again, and it wasn't

(05:04):
a trail marker, but two eyes spread far enough apart
that I knew whatever housed them was huge. Then they
did a quick bobbing move and disappeared. We both had
knives in hand until we made it back. It probably
tracked us long before we saw it. We made a
fire and stayed up late talking and making noise. I
slept for half an hour just after dawn. Story six.

(05:27):
We went camping on the Mendocino Coast of California in
the eighties or nineties. The first night at the campground,
we heard what sounded like a woman screaming, as if
she were being fatally attacked. It terrified us all awake.
After a sleepless night, we learned that there was a
peacock sanctuary nearby, and that's how they sound. We used

(05:47):
to have a neighborhood peacock, and nobody knew where he
came from, probably some nearby farm, but one day he
just decided our street was his home. The neighbors called
him Agon because his cries were so ugly. He got
an ugly name, but it was so cool having him around.
In the spring, he would often spread out his colorful
tail feathers, and that was really beautiful. My parents had

(06:10):
a whole vase full of his colorful tail feathers. He
was fed by neighbors, but nobody ever retained him in
any way, and he stayed for years, blessing us with
beautiful sights and ugly sounds. I got pretty good at
imitating that cry as a kid. He once spooked my
parents by repeatedly sliding down the roof onto the flat
rooftop terrace next to it with a loud bang. It

(06:32):
took days for my parents to figure it out. Unfortunately,
one day a neighbor didn't see him behind her car
tire man. I liked that bird story. Seven some A
long time ago, my friend and I were camping in
a horse pasture with my friend's horse. It damn near
crushed me when it decided it wanted to be in
the tent too and see what we were doing. This

(06:54):
reminds me of a couple of years ago when some
buddies and I hiked out behind his mom's house and
ate some mushrooms. After tripping all day and drinking a
few beers, we stumbled back to his house and a
horse came up to us pretty aggressively. None of us
knew enough about horses to read their body language, and
we were too tired to run, so we just sort
of edged around it and made it out the other

(07:15):
side of the field. When we got back to his house,
his mom said, Oh, that's just old Floyd. He was
just seeing if you had any beer or pot. That
horse loves drinking beer and smoking. Story eight. As I
was unpacking for a solo camping and quail hunting trip,
two guys walked into my camp to chat. Dirty and

(07:35):
very disheveled, obviously drunk, they asked, you got bullets for
that gun when they saw my shotgun case. After a
few minutes, they turned to walk back to their camp.
I saw that one of them had deep injury on
his scalp, about the size of the palm of my hand.
That night, they drank and threw up. Eventually they passed out.

(07:56):
The next day they were arrested. I was told that
the one with the scalp wound had tried to attack
someone with a roofing axe a couple of days earlier
and got the UNO reverse card played. They were up
there hiding out. Story nine. I went to the forest
with some friends one winter. We were completely unprepared and
ended up sleeping bunched together in a tiny tent in

(08:18):
the snow. I woke up in the middle of the
night hearing grunting noises next to my head. I thought
it was my friend's snoring, but then I realized there
was a giant snout poking the fabric of the tent
on the outside, literally breathing in my face. I barely
kept myself from screaming. Eventually, the bear got bored with
trying to get inside and left. We went outside in

(08:38):
the morning and there were massive paw prints everywhere. The
leftovers of our food were gone. We learned our lesson
the hard way. I was around eight camping with my
dad and uncles when a bear tore open the neighboring
campsite's tent smelling food. After a very panicked thirty seconds,
we all piled in and on my dad's pickup truck

(08:59):
and chased it out of the area. The worst part
was that it started at our sight and they threw
the beer cooler into the river. I spent an hour
harvesting river beers for the adults. On the drive home,
my dad reminded me that since my mom stayed home,
there were never any bears nearby at all. Story ten,
I got lost with no service with my best friend

(09:21):
in the Pike National Forest, Colorado, and managed to find
a dispersed campground in the dead of night. We picked
our dry lot and tramped a couple of yards into
the trees to set up our hammocks for the evening.
After picking a hammock spot and slinging them up, we
decided to take a little stroll around the loop to
stretch and wind down before we turned in. In the

(09:42):
center of the loop was an untamed grove of shrubbery
and small trees. The night was so unnaturally dark that
we had to bust out the headlamps just to get
around safely. As we were finishing up our last lap
around the loop before heading back to the car to
finish settling in, I heard faint rustling coming from the
show shrubbery and turned to look into it. As I did,

(10:03):
I made very intense eye contact with two large, forward
facing eyeballs about fifteen to twenty feet from our spot
on the gravel drive. The longer I stared, the more
the hairs on the back of my neck stood up
as the details came into focus. Rounded ears, apex, eyes,
very feline. It was a freaking mountain lion. I vividly

(10:24):
remember pointing at it and asking Rebecca, what the heck
is that are you? Also seeing that, we immediately started
panic giggling like two teenage girls, talking very loudly and
backing away with linked hands. It never made a move
toward us that we saw. I think it was just observing.
We abandoned everything we had lugged out of the car,

(10:45):
hopped in and didn't leave for the rest of the night.
We actually had a blast sleeping in the car with
the seats folded down into a mega bed and the
windows cracked. It's kind of wild to think that if
we hadn't gone on that walk, we would have just
turned in for the night, all snug in our hammocks.
Who knows what could have happened with a big cat
that close. Packing up our gear in the morning had

(11:07):
me so on edge I psyched myself into thinking we
were being stalked by the cat. Story eleven. One time
there were campers across from us at another site. They
were in their late twenties. They were drinking late into
the night, which usually isn't a problem, but one guy
would let out a loud scream every time he took

(11:28):
a shot, and he wouldn't stop. Around two a m.
Someone finally pulled up on a gaiter and told them
all to shut up. The guy wasn't getting the hint,
and his friends were loudly telling him not to drink
anymore or scream. It got quiet for about ten minutes.
Then from inside my tent, I saw headlights and heard
a car pulling out. I figured someone was taking him

(11:49):
home because he was ruining the fund for everyone. I
was finally starting to doze off when with my eyes closed,
I saw a big blue flash and then heard a
loud noise. There was a sub station down the street,
and I am pretty sure that guy drove himself into
it or something close to it, because it was crazy
bright and loud. I would say I feel sorry for

(12:10):
the guy, but he was the most annoying person I
have ever met. I probably heard his stupid Mario scream
about fifteen times that night. After one a m. Story twelve,
I was at a camp site in rural Buffalo, New York,
when a family of about five showed up and unpacked
at the site next to us. They seemed like nice people.

(12:31):
We exchanged pleasantries and went about our separate business setting
up camp. The next morning, when we unzipped our tent
and went to prepare breakfast, we realized they were all
still asleep on the ground, no sleeping bags, no tin,
just lying down fully clothed like they had been raptured.
Remember this is Buffalo. Even in the summer, it gets

(12:53):
cold at night. That was spooky, but we decided to
leave them be and get packed up. Once we got
back from a breakfast run, they were up and packing.
Seeing that we were back, the father came over and
introduced himself. He said we seemed like nice people and
wanted to warn us about the imminent collapse of the
US economy. He eyed our car and said it would

(13:14):
be the only type of currency available once the banks
shut down, and that we should be careful since someone
would want it more than our money when China invades.
He pulled out his phone to try to show us
a YouTube video explaining the whole thing. But we somehow
extricated ourselves and booked it. We packed up and left
faster than we ever have before. The disturbing thing wasn't

(13:36):
just what he said. It was how calm and genial
he was while saying it, as if he were talking
about the weather story thirteen. Back in the late nineteen eighties,
I was camping with a friend off the Ortega Highway
in southern California. It was a lovely autumn afternoon. As
we were getting ready to take a long walk. Some
more campers drove in, and as people do ignored, a

(13:59):
whole bunch of empty campsites to park right next to us.
Their stereo went on immediately and loudly. We escaped the
campground for our walk, and after a very nice time,
we started heading back. As we were walking along a
fire road, we heard what sounded like someone sliding down
a rock strewn hill. We rounded the bend and saw
our new neighbors next to a pickup truck. They had

(14:21):
long guns with them, and as we got closer we
realized the sound we heard was them shooting at the
side of a hill in full automachine gun mode, if
you will. They weren't shooting at anything and didn't seem
terribly menacing. We nodded at them as we walked by.
Flash forward to about three am the next morning, and
the sound of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon

(14:43):
was echoing through the little valley where our campground was.
Did I mention it was three am? I like DSOTM
as much as the next aging hippie, but it was
three am. I finally got up, left the tent and
walked into the neighboring space, approaching slowly the automatic rifles
were leaning against the picnic table, and as I walked up,

(15:03):
one of the campers reached for a gun but did
not raise it menacingly. I smiled and asked if they
could turn down their stereo. They didn't seem happy, but
they turned it down. I was just about back to
our tent when they turned it up even louder, not
long before dawn. I believe they treated us to some
lenyard skinnerd We left around eight a m. It's a

(15:24):
pretty little campground, but I've never been back Story fourteen.
I didn't exactly see it, but I heard and felt it.
My dad and I went backpacking in Yosemite National Park
in California and stopped in a valley to camp for
the night. In the middle of the night, I woke
up to the sound of at least a dozen animals

(15:44):
what sounded like deer sprinting right past our tent, followed
by a loud thud behind it, and the forest going
dead silent. I've been camping my whole life and have
never heard silence like that in a forest. Not even
a leaf was blowing in the wind. Something instinctive made
my whole body freeze. I couldn't breathe had goose bumps,

(16:05):
my heart was racing. I was literally petrified as I
lay there frozen. I swear I could hear whatever made
that loud thud start tip toeing around our tent. I
say tip toeing because the steps were so soft and careful.
It felt intentional, like it was investigating our tent, and
I could feel its presence moving around us. After what

(16:25):
felt like a lifetime but was probably only five to
ten minutes, a branch snapped somewhere in the forest, followed
by a loud whoosh of wind, and the forest just
went back to normal. I wanted to say it was
a mountain lion, just curious about our tent or something,
and that's what I told myself the rest of our
trips so I could sleep at night. But the horrible,

(16:45):
horrible pit in my stomach and the fear that washed
over me was unlike anything I've ever felt before or since,
and has me convinced there are things in the forest
far worse than people realize. Story fifteen. About forty years ago,
I went camping with two friends in upstate New York.
One friend said he knew a cool place for camping.

(17:07):
It was already getting dark when we left, and as
was common at the time, we drank the entire way there.
We got to the park pretty blasted. We grabbed our backpacks,
our supply of beer, and a bottle of jack, and
started heading in. We stumbled around, but ended up hiking
for about an hour. Finally we were deep in the
woods and found a nice clearing. We set up the

(17:28):
tent as best we could, started a big fire, and
continued to drink. We got wasted. The next morning, I
heard noises outside the tent. I stuck my head out
and saw a troop of boy scouts surrounding our camp.
Several were raking dirt onto our fire, putting out the embers.
One of the scouts looked at me and said, there's
no camping allowed here. I looked around and there were

(17:50):
tons of people walking by looking at our falling down tent,
beer cans all over, and other debris. We were in
a day park where people come on on weekends to
hike and play with their kids. The worst part was
when I looked to the right at the parking lot
and saw our car about fifty feet away. We thought
we were deep in the woods. We packed up quickly

(18:11):
and took off. Story sixteen. First, my grandmother grew up
in suburban Florida and didn't really have any experience with wildlife.
After she married my grandfather, they went camping in Yellowstone.
They went for a hike and when they came back,
they saw a bear at the campground sniffing around the stakes.
My grandma was going to prepare for dinner. My grandma

(18:33):
ran up to the bear and smacked it on the
nose with the flat side of an axe. Fortunately, the
bear ran off. I have no idea how big the
bear was. It may have been a baby for all
I know, but it still makes for a good story.
She was also a real life Rosy the Riveter during
World War II. My grandma was awesome. Story seventeen. I

(18:55):
camp yearly, and each year our site gets a little
better and more complex. We can wander around in heavy
rain and stay dry with all our tarps and poles,
and we block the view of neighboring sits. The first
and last days are a bit of work, but it's
quite a camp site. On the second day, a couple
seemingly from the city and on their first camp out,

(19:16):
took the site below ours. They had fancy rims and
a stereo that shook the trees, a pop up tent
never staked down, and one of those air mattresses that
was a couple of feet thick. We watched the weather
and prepared accordingly. This couple fought the whole time, so
we didn't warn them about the rain coming, and maybe
a tarp was a good idea. When the rain began

(19:37):
a little after midnight, it was a downpour, and their
camp site came alive with yelling, bickering, and blaming each other.
Within about five minutes. The spot where they had pitched
their tent was full of water and seemed to be
filling from the top as well. Everything was just shoved
into the back of their rusty truck with fancy rims.
I can still see the guy kicking the barely deflated

(19:59):
map into the back seat. I went to bed laughing.
The next day was damp but peaceful until the evening.
A guy in a decent looking pickup truck took the
spot and seemed new to camping, with things still wrapped
from the factory. When we saw he was with what
seemed to be his daughter and parents, we tried to
offer some advice and shared the story from the night before,

(20:21):
pointing out low spots and obvious paths the water had taken.
But this was a guy who thought he knew everything already,
and he was rude. We checked the weather as we
always do, and got some extra firewood because we knew
we'd get another shower. But it didn't rain until around
eight a m. Just in time for coffee. We turned
our chairs and relaxed, clearly enjoying the free show of

(20:44):
angry rushed repacking with our feet up, drinking coffee. I
am not sure which part I enjoyed more. I felt
bad for the little girl, but the grandparents seemed decent.
Story eighteen we were camping in Saint Regis, Montana and
floating down the Clark Fork River. I was about fifteen
years old. We split the family into two rafts. Dad

(21:07):
always misjudged the timing and a five hour float trip
always turned into an eight hour trip. We hit the
water at two pm, so by the last stretch it
was getting dark and cold. We all heard a woman
asking for help, not screaming, but yelling help me, please,
help me. I saw a woman on the side of
the river trying to reach the water with a guy

(21:28):
behind her pushing her into the ground. Her shirt was ripped.
She was chubby, with olive skin and black hair. I
remember she looked about my mom's age, around forty. Her
hair was all messed up on one side and there
were twigs poking out. We kids froze, but my dad
started frantically paddling toward us and through a rope so
we didn't float down the river without them. Then he

(21:50):
got both rafts to the side of the river. By
then we were so far upstream that there was nothing
we could do. We couldn't walk up the bank. It
was wild and overgrown, and we couldn't see or hear
anything anymore. We sat there for a few minutes before
getting back in our rafts. Cell Phones were not widespread yet.
This was the early nineties. Once at the camp site,

(22:12):
my dad drove to town and reported what we saw. That
was it. I think about that lady a few times
a year. Story nineteen. It wasn't so much what I saw,
but what I heard. My brother and I went camping
up the mountain for a couple of nights. The first
night was awesome. We found a nice clearing where we

(22:32):
could safely make a fire and camp out. The second
night started great, but as it got dark, we heard
a bear in the distance. There was a large clear
cut area it was in, so we could hear it
from quite far away, and we weren't too concerned at
the time. Then after the sun went down, we heard
it much closer, close enough to hear its footsteps in

(22:53):
the woods. We were a little freaked out, so we
tossed some rocks and yelled. It didn't seem to make
a difference, and it kept getting closer. Then we heard
more of them, at least three, coming from different directions,
basically surrounding us. One got real close and growled in
the darkness. We all know what a bear sounds like
from movies, but in real life it's much more guttural

(23:15):
and primal. You can feel it in your chest, and
it also has this train whistle like overtone to it.
It was the scariest sound I've ever heard in my life.
We packed everything up like it was an Olympic sport
and got the heck out of there. Thankfully, we had
plenty of light and a trail to follow. Because of
the adrenaline. What took us two days to hike up.

(23:36):
Took us three hours to get back down. I remember
constantly looking back to see if anything was following us.
We found an RV campground near the base of the
mountain and had to steal some water at two in
the morning because we were so dehydrated by the time
we got there. We probably could have just asked for some,
but we were still in primal cave man running from

(23:58):
Predator's mode. Story twenty. I was looking on free roam
for a dispersed campsite near Eugene, Oregon, last year during
a road trip. There weren't many options, but it was
starting to get dark and I had been driving all day,
so I went up a forest access road a couple
of miles to the one site that was closest. It

(24:19):
was a super thick forest. Then out of nowhere, a
narrow driveway opened up to a bush whacked spot with
a fire pit. There was a good amount of garbage
and some shotgun shells lying around. That's not super out
of the ordinary, but something just felt off. I opened
my door and let my chihuahuas jump out. They're usually
pumped to run around and chase each other, but both

(24:41):
immediately stopped as soon as they hit the ground, stared
into the bushes about twenty feet away, and growled. I
thought maybe there was an animal back there, so I
hucked them back into the truck and began setting up
my rooftop tent. My stomach started gurgling and I realized
I had to do my business. I grabbed my shovel
and wipes and started looking for a spot down the road.

(25:03):
The forest was so thick there weren't any good openings,
so I came back to the site and started walking
the perimeter to find a hole to duck into. As
things were becoming urgent, I found an opening right where
my dogs were staring and growling. Just out of sight
in the brush was a mattress with dirty sheets and
a perfectly intact milk carton. I got chills and could

(25:23):
feel that someone else was there, just out of sight.
It was pretty dark at this point, so I quickly
ran back to the road, dug my hole, did my thing,
came back and started packing everything up. There was no
cell service, and for all I knew, there could have
been multiple people in the bushes waiting for me. With
the shotgun shells lying around. We just went into town

(25:45):
and got a hotel. My intuition was screaming at me
not to stay in that place. Story twenty one. I
arrived at a camp site around three pm in the Volverdi,
California area, to camp one night with my boyfriend, who
was black. That detail is important later in twenty twelve.
There was maybe one other family in the whole area,

(26:06):
but they seemed just like us. We set up and
were chilling until around seven p m. When about ten
pickup trucks arrived and maybe thirty people congregated. They were
immediately loud, obnoxious, and too close, but since we were
only staying one night, we tried to ignore it. The
huge group started stacking a big pile of wood to

(26:27):
make a huge bonfire, and we noticed they were all men,
white men, and most of them were bald. Then a
younger guy came over to us and offered us a beer.
How nice. He said, hey, sorry if we're loud, but
here's a peace offering. Then, just before he turned back
to his group, he said, you and that N word
better get out of here before dark. It was an

(26:48):
aryan brotherhood meet up. We got out of there so fast.
Story twenty two. I was with a group of about
eight people. We were in a very isolated location, not
a formal campground. We always preferred to hike in and
get as far away from other people as possible. Around
nine or ten, it was pitch black and the woods
were silent with no wind. We were all pretty buzzed

(27:11):
off whiskey at this point when out of nowhere, a
dude with a hunting rifle on his back stepped into
the firelight. He wasn't wearing a shirt and basically looked
homeless with a kind of blank stare on his face.
Keep in mind we were in the Rockies at around
ten thousand feet, so it was not warm, and he
wasn't wearing a shirt. The fact that we didn't hear

(27:32):
him meant he had definitely snuck up on us. We
went silent and just stared at him. He looked around,
didn't say a word, and backed into the darkness. We
slept in shifts that night and kept the fire blazing.
We could hear him moving around our camp until sunrise,
when I guess he gave up. We got out of

(27:52):
there at first light and I reported it to the
park Service. Story twenty three, A friend and I were
hiking on the appalach trail in Georgia right after we
graduated high school. We were on the trail for three
or four days backpacking. One night at one of the shelters,
we met an older couple, probably in their late thirties

(28:12):
or forties, camping at the same shelter for the night.
The sun was going down, and we made a fire
and started talking to them. Their story made no sense.
Long story short. They were hiking from Virginia down to
Florida because their car broke down. Then they started telling
us crazy stories about how they used to catch cats,
harm them and put them on the hood of their

(28:34):
car like an ornament. I immediately had a feeling they
were fugitives or predators or something. Lucky for me and
my buddy, we could hold our own and I made
sure they caught a glimpse of my pistol. After that,
they were creeps. Also, one time I was camping at
sand Rock in Alabama and heard a whole group or
cult of at least ten people chanting in one of

(28:54):
the caves there in the middle of the night. They
were speaking in tongues or some kind of gibberish. Story
twenty four. I am not a camper, but my family
owned a campground for ten years. It was privately owned,
and we were prideful. In other words, we didn't have
enough money to pay people, so we did all the
caretaking ourselves. On July fifth, my dad asked me to

(29:15):
clean the bath houses. I took care of the front
bath house first, which was in surprisingly good shape for
a party weekend, nothing out of the ordinary. Then I
went to the back bath house. Upon opening the door
to the men's side, I was greeted by a smell
I will never forget. In front of me was a
trail of poop and vomit leading from the stalls to

(29:35):
the showers. As my eyes tracked the trail, I found
a man passed out face down in the showers. He
was covered head to toe in poop and vomit. I
legitimately thought he wasn't alive and poked him in the
leg with the broom I had. Thankfully, he groaned and
moved slightly. At thirteen years old, I realized my dad

(29:56):
did not pay me enough to deal with this and
ran to Mommy, who then made my dad clean it up.
Story twenty five. I have a regular off grid spot
in my favorite mountain range. We took off to go
to some hot springs and hiking. During our trip down
the road, we were waved down by a family looking
for someone. They told us the car parked at the

(30:16):
beginning of the trail belonged to their son, who had
traveled several states to come to the very spot we camped.
We came back after our day to search and rescue
teams and police searching the area, as the individual had
been missing for over a week. The police wouldn't let
us go back to our site for several hours. Finally
we were allowed to return and cook dinner. The evening

(30:38):
and night were very ominous, with bells jingling on the
search dog's collars and people yelling the man's name. The
next morning, we woke up to a helicopter. The camp
site is fifty yards away from a five hundred foot
cliff that overlooks the valley. It turned out the guy jumped.
They found him at the bottom of the cliff. It
was very sad watching the family morn as we packed

(31:00):
our gear up. Since that day, I haven't camped there.
Story twenty six. My dad, my two brothers, and I
went camping next to a river on a farm owned
by our neighbor. We spent the day fishing and swimming.
The water level was a bit lower than normal, so
we caught a lot of fish. We went to sleep
and woke up the next morning at five am to

(31:22):
the most disgusting smell. We crawled out of the tent
and my dad shone his flashlight at the river. There,
about forty feet in front of us was a dead horse,
upside down, stuck on a rock. You can imagine the
horror of this sight at five a m. My poor
dad had to swim up to the horse and spent
what seemed like an eternity pushing it off the rocks

(31:42):
with a stick. The first time we camped there with
my dad, we first stopped at the store to buy
a gazebo for some shade. We set it up, and
the moment we stepped back to admire our handiwork, a
gust of wind lifted the gazebo and bent the frame.
To say my dad was pissed is an understatement. I
went the rest of the weekend under this crooked structure

(32:02):
and threw it away afterward. During one camping trip, we
pitched the three room tent. My youngest brother shared a
room with my dad since he was still small. It
was a nice tent. Every room had its own door
and zipper in the middle. It had a lounge type space.
That night, it started raining and we had forgotten the
canvas that stretched over the tent. Some water came in

(32:26):
and made the lounge wet, but our rooms were fine.
Halfway through the night, my eldest brother's screams awakened us,
help help, I am drowning. My dad peeked out of
his room and said, then, freaking sit up. I laughed
so hard my tummy ached. My brother woke up lying
in a pool of water and immediately panicked, not realizing

(32:47):
he could literally just sit up and be okay. Those
were fun times. I missed them. Story twenty seven. I've
camped quite a bit all over the US, and I
have seen and experienced some things that might seemed disturbing
to some but not to me. The most significant was
when I was camping outside Great Sand Dunes National Park

(33:07):
in southwest Colorado with a friend. It was probably between
ten pm and one am in late November twenty nineteen.
My friend was tending to the fire and I was
staring up at the sky marveling at how the view
of space was about the best I've seen in my life.
I saw what appeared to be a satellite moving across
the sky. I've spent most of my life in light

(33:30):
polluted areas, so even seeing a satellite was a pretty
big deal to me. I was following it across the
sky while my friend arranged logs in the fire. Suddenly,
as it was right overhead, a beam of light shone
down from it. For about half a second. I would
have dismissed it as my brain playing tricks on me
if it weren't for my friends saying what the heck

(33:50):
was that the beam of light was so strong that
my friend could see it despite looking directly into the fire.
It basically lit up our entire camp area. I explained
to him that I was observing this satellite and that
a beam of light just came out of it out
of nowhere. We were both perplexed, but not really bothered,
as we had experienced some strange things together before. We

(34:13):
both believe there is intelligent life out there, but I
am skeptical of anything I can prove, even if I
see it with my own eyes, I will always try
to come up with logical explanations unless I am quite
literally shaking hands with an alien. The best I could
come up with for that instance was that the satellite
at that height was still able to catch rays of

(34:34):
the sun and that it was at the perfect angle
to reflect them directly at us. Even if that's the case,
it has to be a rare occurrence. So it was
a cool experience. We slept well, carried on with the trip,
and didn't talk about it much after that. Two more
things that were kind of disturbing. We're hearing howling coyotes
near Bridgeport, California, howling back at them, then hearing them

(34:57):
go quiet, only to hear howling a few hundred feet
minutes later. I regretted howling back and slept in the
car that night. Probably the most disturbing was in Tuskegee
National Forest in Alabama. I arrived at my camp site
late and was setting everything up with a head lamp on.
I saw reflections that looked like rain drops or dew everywhere.

(35:18):
I didn't think much of it at first, despite everything
being dry. When I finally decided to investigate, I found
out every single one was a spider. What I thought
were reflections from dew were actually reflections of their eyes.
They literally surrounded me on the ground in the trees everywhere.
I quickly loaded all my stuff into the tent and

(35:39):
didn't leave the entire night. Story twenty eight. Once upon
a time Last summer, my brother and I went camping
at a well known woodland spot in the Peak District, UK.
The site has some stone circles which I think have
pagan significance. We arrived one summer's day ate some mushrooms.
As we set up the camp site and began to trip.

(36:00):
We chilled for a few hours watching the trees dance.
At some point, a guy and his dog appeared a
little way from us. There are usually several groups camping
in this forest, so it's not unusual to see people
walking about, but we were set back away from any
paths and this guy was just circling around the same area.
I was still tripping at this point, but something was

(36:21):
definitely off about him. He kept shouting to himself and
throwing water and lying starfish on the ground for about
ten minutes before getting up again. I figured maybe he
was tripping too and just off his nut. On a
little solo adventure, a couple more hours passed. We were
coming down from the trip, so we built a fire.
The guy came over. He was well built and wearing

(36:43):
military style clothes with a military backpack. He asked for
some firewood, as there wasn't much around, and we let him.
Then he asked if he could join us for a
beer and a spliff. We reluctantly agreed, and he sat
down by the fire. What follows is a thirty minute
exchange with what I can most accurately describe as a
paranoid schizophrenic. He told us people always come up to him,

(37:06):
saying he's the one, then asked if that's why we
were here. He believed the government was tracking him through Facebook,
said he found microchips in his trouser legs and exclaimed
they're even in my toothpaste. You could see he was
having half a conversation in his head and kept randomly
shouting it's just so embarrassing. When my brother asked what

(37:27):
was embarrassing, he just mumbled nothing. I asked how he'd
gotten there. He turned to me and said, is that
a joke? Aggressively, then acted normally afterward. All this while
our dog was growling at him and his dog was
literally having time of his life on my leg. I
tried to push him off, but he kept jumping up,
and the man made no effort to control him. The

(37:48):
whole thing culminated with him asking do you mind if
I smoke a bit of powder? Before we could say no,
that pipe was in his mouth. To be fair to him,
he actually mellowed out a bit once he smoked. He
hung around for maybe ten minutes longer, then got up
and declared, well, I've said my bit, so I will
get out of your way, and went about fifty meters

(38:09):
away to build a huge fire that was basically touching
the branches above. The moment he left, my brother was
in the tent packing up. We both silently agreed it
was time to leave and bounced as quickly as we could.
I am pretty sure it was the evening of a
blood moon. The moon was massive, and there were loads
of people around in the forest, including a group dressed
in white druid clothes and some folks with what looked

(38:31):
like ghost busting equipment scanning the rocks. We walked straight
out of the forest, fully expecting the crackhead to chase us,
and got in the car. When I suggested going to
another spot. My brother said, screw that, I am going home.
So that's what we did. Story twenty nine. We were
camping for four days in an area of the Red

(38:52):
Feather Lakes, deep into the woods, twenty miles down a
dirt road, with no one else in sight. We arrived
during the day and I didn't notice anything unusual. We
had enough supplies for maybe six days for our group,
my wife and I, my brother in law, my three
nephews aged five, six, and eight, and our dogs. Day

(39:12):
one was amazing, hiking, fishing, stargazing, and s'mores. The dogs
loved roaming around. The Next day was just as great,
with lots of activities, yard games like cornhole and board
games with the boys. Around six pm, however, the mood
shifted with the dogs. Suddenly they were very on edge,

(39:33):
patrolling the edge of our camp with hackles raised, occasionally
growling toward the woods. We didn't think much of it
at first. We had hiked deep into the forest, surrounded
by trees in every direction for miles. There was a
hill nearby about seven hundred feet higher that would get
us above the tree line for stargazing, with views in
every direction. No other lights or campfires were visible. We

(39:56):
figured the dogs were detecting wildlife, maybe a cure Us
black bear or even a mountain lion. They were big dogs,
we were armed, and we kept the kids close, so
it didn't seem like a serious issue. That night, we
adults stayed up around the camp fire until about one
a m. I kept feeling like something was watching us.
I was more on edge than usual and were avid

(40:18):
campers with plenty of experience and run ins with bears
and other wildlife in the woods, but this felt different.
When we finally went to bed, I don't think I
slept more than half an hour at a time, and
kept hearing the occasional snap of branches somewhere in the woods.
The next day, nothing seemed off about the camp, though
my brother suspected something had happened to our water. We

(40:40):
had five or six five gallon jugs with pull out spigots.
Two were in my truck, one in our tent, one
in his car, and the remaining two appeared drained. It
could have been the boys or a leak, though we
decided to pack it in after lunch on day three.
We didn't want to end the trip early, but everything
just felt so strange. The boys were sad, and we

(41:01):
kept going back and forth about whether we were being paranoid,
but the dogs were definitely on edge, running around and
sniffing frantically during our hike that day. After lunch, we
started packing up our gear, two tents, games, food, and
so on. It took a while, especially with three little
boys running around like crazy, and we weren't in a rush.
By the time we were all loaded up, we decided

(41:24):
to heat up a quick dinner. The boys had one
last request. They wanted to go snipe hunting. We still
had about an hour of daylight left, so we were
fine with it. We went off into the forest and
did the classic snipe hunt routine. My brother in law
led us in the front, guiding a wide circle that
would end back at camp. My wife stayed in the
middle with the boys and I trailed behind. At the rear.

(41:47):
I would pick up small rocks and sticks, and when
the boys weren't looking, I would toss one to make
them jump. The other two adults would then say, oh,
my gosh, I think the snipe went this way. It
was good fun. As the sun was setting, not quite
dark yet, and we were nearing camp. A rock the
size of two fists came flying in and barely missed

(42:08):
one of my nephews. The adults looked back at me
like I was crazy, and I said that wasn't me.
Then another rock came flying and hit me square in
the back. We didn't ask any questions. Time to go.
Each adult grabbed a kid and we booked it back
to our cars. The woods seemed to move behind us
as we reached the cars, bushes shaking, tree branches, cracking

(42:30):
and popping. We were all loaded up. I think if
we left anything behind, sorry to the forest Service. We
had about twenty miles of dirt road back to concrete.
About a quarter of a mile into our drive, the
road suddenly became littered with bones and animal carcasses, beheaded
deer and raccoon bodies. Some looked fresh, others were just bones.

(42:52):
We swerved left and right, trying to avoid hitting any
of the more recently dead animals. It's hard to believe,
but this one on for nearly a full mile. Finally
we made it through and the road was clear For
the next couple of miles. We reached a clearing and
saw a green bus pulled off near another camp site.
For some reason, I decided to stop and see if

(43:14):
anyone was there to warn them something was wrong. My
brother kept going down the road with my nephews, and
my wife stayed in the car. I approached the green bus.
As I got closer, I saw the bus was run down,
flat tires, newspapers covering the windows, and peeling paint. There
was a large fire pit about twenty by twenty feet

(43:34):
and pretty deep. Inside was an immense pile of bones, moose, antlers,
femurs of all sizes, and rib cages. It looked like
bones from around forty animals. Looking around, I noticed strange
symbols on the bus and tied to trees with string,
along with a few smaller hanging animals. I quickly turned
back to the truck, told my wife nope, and we

(43:56):
sped down the road to catch up with my brother.
The whole stop lasted maybe a minute. I don't know
if it was poachers, cultists, or a mix of both,
maybe some kind of weird wickens or resourceful attics. In
the end, I am glad we never found out story.
Thirty after we had been camping for a few days,
a couple arrived at the spot next to ours. They

(44:18):
spent about two hours unpacking and setting up camp, then
practiced knife throwing and cracking a whip. One of them
accidentally cut off a finger, and the other asked if
we could watch their camp site until they returned. We agreed.
For about three hours, drunk off our butts, we played
Indiana Jones trying to swing from a broken tree branch
with the whip. They never came back, so we informed

(44:40):
the park ranger to look after their belongings. Story thirty one,
My sons and I went camping in a very remote
spot deep in the Idaho woods. We took a two
mile hike even farther into the forest and came across
a perfect circle about five feet in diameter, made completely
of bones, with a smaller circle of bones inside it,
and a deer skull placed directly in the middle. On

(45:02):
the way back, we looped around and found ourselves in
front of a dense group of birch trees that gave
off a very dark vibe. My sons and I all
got goosebumps. We bypassed the birches and eventually made it
back to camp. I believe ninety percent of the creepy
paranormal supernatural stories you hear about the woods have rational explanations,

(45:23):
including mine. But even though the ring of bones was strange,
it was the dark, ominous feeling from the birches that
really unsettled me. I've never been in direct danger, but
a few times the hairs on the back of my
neck have stood up shortly after I've seen a bear,
a mountain lion, and a pack of coyotes nearby. I
always listen to that feeling and go on high alert.

(45:45):
It's strange how your brain can pick up on danger
without you consciously realizing it. Once I was riding my
motorcycle on a twisty back road surrounded by dense trees
so you couldn't see what was coming ahead. Suddenly I
got a strong feeling that something was wrong. I slowed
way down and stopped just before a narrow one lane
stretch of road. Shortly after, a car came the other way,

(46:08):
and as soon as it passed me, the uneasy feeling disappeared.
Would I have had an accident if I had kept going.
There's no way to know, but I am glad I
listened to that voice. Story thirty two. A buddy of
mine and I were paddling the Buffalo River in Arkansas.
For reasons neither interesting nor relevant. We had to pull

(46:28):
off and camp for the night next to a field
in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the night,
we were awakened by ATVs not too far away. They
got closer and closer until they were at our campsite.
They started doing laps around our tent and yelling all
kinds of things. It was exactly how you would imagine
it would go in a movie, right before the psycho
rednecks do terrible things to the protagonists. Also, I am

(46:51):
from a redneck place where this was a completely plausible
scenario ending with me and my buddy bleeding at least
a little. So we just lay there and hoped for
the best, and fortunately they quickly got bored and left.
Story thirty three. We camped by a lake in July
and a rabbit came up and just hung out at
our camp. At first, we thought it was something terrifying

(47:13):
sneaking up on us, like a bear or a mountain lion,
until this cute little bunny popped out of the underbrush.
It stayed with us for about three hours before we
finally went to bed. The spooky part was wondering what
could be out there that made this wild rabbit want
to stay so close to humans. I kept my glock
with me for bathroom breaks. Story thirty four. We went

(47:35):
off for a grouse hunt during our camping trip, but
things weren't going well. We hadn't seen any signs of
birds or any animals at all. We didn't even hear
a squirrel. The night before had been different. We thought
we heard a low cry, but dismissed it and stoked
our fire. While searching for grouse, we came across a
fresh bear cub carcass, badly chewed and looking pretty rough.

(47:58):
Story thirty five. It was a bachelor party and we
decided to go camping in North Florida. Somehow, it turned
out to be the coldest time of the year, with
temperatures in the thirties and forties. It was so hard
to leave the camp fire to go to bed because
any time away from the fire was freezing. I lucked
out with an air mattress, but the other guys weren't

(48:19):
so lucky. On day two, we were all hung over
making breakfast. I was trying to take a nap in
the car when I saw snowflakes falling on the windshield
snowflakes in Florida at eight in the morning. About an
hour later, a van pulled into the camp site next
to us. It immediately hit a stump and blew attire.
A family with two kids jumped out and started to

(48:41):
set up. We looked at the two little girls and
wondered how they would make it through a night like
the one we just had. The family looked pretty unprepared.
Our suspicions were confirmed when the wife came over asking
for a lighter and said her stupid husband forgot to
pack anything to make a fire. Oh man, here we go.
Fast forward to about midnight or one a m. When

(49:03):
I heard crying, and a few minutes later the van
was running. I figured the family had shoved the girls
into the warm van. Makes sense, so I went back
to sleep. The next morning, the camp site was abandoned.
The van and family were gone. I think they just
left all their stuff and went home or to a
hotel after just half a day of camping. Poor family

(49:25):
story thirty six. I love to camp, and I rarely
camp where there are people for obvious reasons. The last
time I was in an actual campground was at a
reservoir north of Phoenix. I had the place all to myself.
A group of college girls showed up and they all
got very drunk. One of them, a cute brunette, dropped

(49:45):
her phone in the outhouse toilet. She was absolutely wasted
and devastated by the loss of her phone. She wouldn't
let anyone use the toilet, bawling her eyes out. I
felt so bad for her. I had a rake in
my truck. I am always a prepared camper, being the
only dead sober camper in sight, and a gentleman, I
sacrificed my rake for her sanity. I fished her phone

(50:09):
out of the toilet and god knows what else. Her
phone still worked. She grabbed it and immediately checked her
social media. She gave me a big, wet, sloppy, drunk
kiss and hug. I bid the obligatory You're most welcome,
and returned to my camp site. I sanitized my hands,
washed them, and sanitized them again. I threw my rake

(50:30):
in the fire, changed my clothes, and tossed the ones
infected with whatever vermin lives in a Phoenix outhouse into
the garbage before going to bed, what's the plus side
of their loud party keeping me awake? I heard all
about how I was the hero for rescuing her phone.
I smiled to myself, thinking it was just a phone story.

(50:51):
Thirty seven About five years ago, I was camping in
a remote site in one of the Carolinas with a
few others. We all stayed in the same tent. Every night,
around ten thirty to eleven, a sudden wall of wind
like one hundred miles per hour would hit the tent
and blow it to the ground. Out of fear, I
grabbed my buddies and prepared for the worst, but after

(51:12):
about a minute, the wind stopped. This happened for three nights,
like a ritual. On the last night, we tried to
catch it but missed. I still think about it to
this day. It felt otherworldly. There might be some explanations
involving air cooling and such, but it was something else.
It was not a person. I am almost one hundred

(51:33):
percent sure of that story. Thirty eight. I went Hammock
camping with some friends in Wisconsin. We had to make
last minute changes to our original plan of camping in
Door County and looked up the closest campsite near us.
We found one called Shady Acres, and despite the name,
we decided to see if they would take us on
short notice. We arrived around two in the afternoon and

(51:55):
were greeted by the owner, a middle aged man drinking
a fore loco. At the campsites interesting, but what else
would we expect. We had a relatively uneventful night and
noticed some fellow campers next to us, but thought nothing
of it. In the morning, we were greeted by one
of the other campers. He said his name was Terry.

(52:16):
Terry was also middle aged, shirtless, had a big beer belly,
and had clown make up tattoos on his face. He
broke the ice by telling a horribly racist joke and
then told us that he and eleven other friends were
currently homeless in camping there. He asked if we had
any food to spare, and since we were packing up
to leave, we gave him everything we had left. We

(52:38):
had no idea there were that many people at the
other site. They also had a small camper which was
blocked by the trees. That was a very weird place
and I will never forget Terry. Thank you for watching.
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