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10 Appalachian Trail Encounters That Still Haunt Hikers | Horror Stories · Appalachian Horror | Horror Stories

• 0:00
  Speaker 1: Welcome back to Park Ranger Files.
• 0:02
  Speaker 2: Today I've compiled 10 firsthand stories from hikers, hunters, and
• 0:06
  Speaker 2: outdoor enthusiasts who experienced something on or near the Appalachian
• 0:10
  Speaker 2: Trail that they'll never forget, no matter how hard they try.
• 0:14
  Speaker 1: Before we begin, if you're enjoying these stories, please hit
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  Speaker 1: that subscribe button.
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  Speaker 2: I'm trying to reach 1,000 subscribers before my birthday next month,
• 0:22
  Speaker 2: and your support means everything. Drop a like if this
• 0:26
  Speaker 2: content gives you the chills, and leave a comment to
• 0:29
  Speaker 2: Have you ever experienced something unexplainable in the wilderness?
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  Speaker 1: I read every single comment.
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  Speaker 2: Now, let's head into the mountains.
• 0:38
  Speaker 1: Story one.
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  Speaker 2: I'm a software developer from Boston, spent most of my
• 0:41
  Speaker 2: life in front of screens. In 2018, I decided I
• 0:45
  Speaker 2: needed a change, needed to disconnect. My therapist had been
• 0:49
  Speaker 2: suggesting I get outside more, so I planned a week-long
• 0:51
  Speaker 2: solo hike on a section of the Appalachian Trail in Virginia.
• 0:55
  Speaker 2: I'd done day hikes before, but nothing like this. I
• 0:58
  Speaker 2: started at Rockfish Gap on a Monday morning in early October.
• 1:02
  Speaker 2: The weather was perfect, cool and crisp, with brilliant fall
• 1:06
  Speaker 2: colors everywhere. The first two days were exactly what I needed.
• 1:10
  Speaker 1: Peaceful. Therapeutic.
• 1:12
  Speaker 2: I saw maybe a dozen other hikers exchange pleasantries and
• 1:15
  Speaker 2: camped at designated sites both nights. On the third day,
• 1:19
  Speaker 2: things changed. I woke up around dawn to the sound
• 1:22
  Speaker 2: of footsteps circling my tent. Not animal footsteps. These were
• 1:26
  Speaker 2: deliberate bipedal and heavy. I froze in my sleeping bag listening.
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  Speaker 2: The steps would pause every few seconds, like whatever it
• 1:33
  Speaker 2: was stopped to examine my tent from different angles.
• 1:36
  Speaker 1: Hello?
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  Speaker 2: I called out, my voice shaking more than I wanted
• 1:39
  Speaker 2: to admit. The footsteps stopped immediately. Complete silence. I waited
• 1:46
  Speaker 2: five minutes before unzipping my tent and looking outside and nothing.
• 1:50
  Speaker 1: No one.
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  Speaker 2: But I noticed something odd. There were no footprints in
• 1:54
  Speaker 2: the dirt around my tent anymore. even though the ground
• 1:57
  Speaker 2: was soft enough that my own prints from the.
• 1:59
  Speaker 1: Night before were clearly visible.
• 2:01
  Speaker 2: I convinced myself I'd imagined it, maybe heard a deer
• 2:04
  Speaker 2: or my mind playing tricks in that half-awake state. I
• 2:08
  Speaker 2: packed up and continued north on the trail. Around midday,
• 2:11
  Speaker 2: I stopped at a rocky outcropping to eat lunch and
• 2:13
  Speaker 2: check my map. The view was incredible, rolling mountains as
• 2:17
  Speaker 2: far as I could see. I sat there for maybe
• 2:19
  Speaker 2: 20 minutes, enjoying the solitude. That's when I noticed someone
• 2:24
  Speaker 2: standing in the trees about 50 yards down the trail
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  Speaker 2: I'd just come from. It was a figure, human-shaped, but
• 2:30
  Speaker 2: something was wrong with the proportions. Too tall, maybe seven feet,
• 2:34
  Speaker 2: and the limbs seemed too long. It was partially obscured
• 2:37
  Speaker 2: by trees, but I could make out what looked like
• 2:40
  Speaker 2: dark clothing or maybe just dark skin.
• 2:43
  Speaker 1: It wasn't moving, just standing there. Hey, I shouted, waving.
• 2:47
  Speaker 1: You okay? No response.
• 2:50
  Speaker 2: The figure remained perfectly still, A chill ran through me
• 2:53
  Speaker 2: that had nothing to do with the temperature. I quickly
• 2:56
  Speaker 2: packed my lunch, shouldered my pack, and started hiking.
• 3:00
  Speaker 1: Fast.
• 3:01
  Speaker 2: I didn't look back for the first 10 minutes, but
• 3:04
  Speaker 2: when I finally did, I saw the figure again, closer now,
• 3:07
  Speaker 2: maybe 30 yards behind me.
• 3:09
  Speaker 1: Standing in the middle of the trail, my heart was pounding.
• 3:13
  Speaker 2: I broke into a jog, which is difficult with a
• 3:14
  Speaker 2: 40-pound pack, but adrenaline is a hell of a motivator.
• 3:19
  Speaker 2: The trail was rocky and uneven, and I nearly twisted
• 3:21
  Speaker 2: my ankle twice. Every time I looked back, the figure
• 3:25
  Speaker 2: was there, always the same distance behind me, never seeming
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  Speaker 2: to hurry, but somehow keeping pace.
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  Speaker 1: This went on for over an hour. I was exhausted,
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  Speaker 1: drenched in sweat, and genuinely terrified.
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  Speaker 2: Finally, I came around a bend and saw two hikers
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  Speaker 2: coming toward me, a couple in their fifties with matching gear.
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  Speaker 1: Thank God, I gasped, looking behind me. The figure was gone.
• 3:47
  Speaker 2: The couple looked concerned and asked if I was alright.
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  Speaker 2: I tried to explain about being followed, but When we
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  Speaker 2: walked back down the trail, there was nothing and no
• 3:55
  Speaker 2: one there. They were kind enough, suggested maybe I'd seen
• 3:59
  Speaker 2: a bear standing upright or a tree stump that looked
• 4:02
  Speaker 2: human-shaped in the shadows. But I know what I saw,
• 4:05
  Speaker 2: and I know it was following me. I hiked with
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  Speaker 2: that couple for the rest of the day, and they
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  Speaker 2: let me camp near them that night. I didn't tell them,
• 4:14
  Speaker 2: but I barely slept. Every sound had me bolt upright, expecting.
• 4:19
  Speaker 1: To hear those footsteps again.
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  Speaker 2: The next morning, I made an excuse about needing to
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  Speaker 2: cut my trip short and hike to the nearest road crossing.
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  Speaker 2: I hitched a ride into town and caught a bus
• 4:28
  Speaker 2: back to Boston. I haven't been hiking alone since. And
• 4:32
  Speaker 2: I don't plan to ever again. Story two. I'm 67
• 4:37
  Speaker 2: years old now, but this happened when I was 52,
• 4:40
  Speaker 2: back in 2007. I'd been hiking sections of the Appalachian
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  Speaker 2: Trail for years, usually with my hiking group, but sometimes
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  Speaker 2: alone when I needed time to think.
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  Speaker 1: My husband had passed.
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  Speaker 2: Away the year before, and walking in the mountains was
• 4:53
  Speaker 2: the only thing that helped with the grief. It was
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  Speaker 2: late September, and I decided to do a three-day solo
• 4:58
  Speaker 2: hike through Shenandoah National Park. I'd done this section before,
• 5:02
  Speaker 2: knew it well, and felt comfortable with the terrain. The
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  Speaker 2: first night, I stayed at a shelter, one of those
• 5:08
  Speaker 2: three-sided wooden structures along the trail. There were two other
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  Speaker 2: hikers there, young men in their 20s, doing a through hike.
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  Speaker 2: We chatted briefly, shared some trail mix, and went to
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  Speaker 2: bed early. I woke up sometime after midnight to the
• 5:20
  Speaker 2: sound of voices. At first I thought the young men
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  Speaker 2: were talking, but when I opened my eyes, I could
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  Speaker 2: see them both in their sleeping bags, clearly asleep. The
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  Speaker 2: voices were coming from outside the shelter, from the woods.
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  Speaker 2: They were having a conversation, at least a dozen different voices,
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  Speaker 2: men and women, maybe children too. I couldn't make out
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  Speaker 2: the words, but the cadence was normal, like people at
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  Speaker 2: a dinner party, having multiple overlapping conversations. I sat up listening.
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  Speaker 2: One of the young men stirred and whispered, You hear that? Yeah,
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  Speaker 2: I whispered back. We both listened for several minutes. The
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  Speaker 2: voices continued, never getting louder or softer, never moving closer
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  Speaker 2: or farther away. The other hiker woke up too, and
• 6:03
  Speaker 2: the three of us sat there in the dark, listening
• 6:05
  Speaker 2: to what sounded like a crowd of people talking in
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  Speaker 2: the middle of the forest at 2 a.m.
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  Speaker 1: Should we check it out? One of the young men asked.
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  Speaker 2: Absolutely not, I said firmly. Something about those voices felt wrong.
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  Speaker 2: They were too normal, too casual for the situation. If
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  Speaker 2: there really were people out there, why would they be
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  Speaker 2: wandering through the woods in the middle of the night
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  Speaker 2: having conversations?
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  Speaker 1: We waited.
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  Speaker 2: After about 30 minutes, the voices stopped all at once,
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  Speaker 2: like someone had flipped a switch. The silence that followed
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  Speaker 2: was oppressive, thick. We didn't sleep for the rest of
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  Speaker 2: the night. At first light, we packed up and examined
• 6:43
  Speaker 2: the area around the shelter. There were no footprints, no
• 6:46
  Speaker 2: signs of anyone having been there. No trash, no disturbed vegetation, nothing.
• 6:52
  Speaker 2: The young men headed north, continuing their through hike. I
• 6:55
  Speaker 2: headed south, planning to hike out early. But that night,
• 6:59
  Speaker 2: camped alone in my tent, I heard the voices again.
• 7:03
  Speaker 2: This time they were closer, right outside my tent. I
• 7:06
  Speaker 2: recognized the same cadence, the same overlapping conversations, but I
• 7:11
  Speaker 2: still couldn't make out any actual words. It was like
• 7:14
  Speaker 2: listening to people speaking in a language that was almost English,
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  Speaker 2: but not quite. I stayed in my tent, barely breathing
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  Speaker 2: until sunrise. The voices continued for hours, surrounding my tent,
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  Speaker 2: never acknowledging my presence, never interacting with me, just talking
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  Speaker 2: amongst themselves. When daylight came, I packed up in record
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  Speaker 2: time and practically ran down the trail. I made it
• 7:35
  Speaker 2: to the parking area by noon and drove straight home.
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  Speaker 2: I've done research since then looking for any explanation.
• 7:42
  Speaker 1: Mass hysteria? Hallucination? Some kind of acoustic phenomenon?
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  Speaker 2: I found stories from other hikers who had experienced similar
• 7:50
  Speaker 2: things in that area.
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  Speaker 1: Voices in the woods with no source.
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  Speaker 2: Some people say it's the spirits of people who died.
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  Speaker 1: In the mountains.
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  Speaker 2: Others think it's something else entirely. Something that mimics human
• 8:01
  Speaker 2: voices for reasons we can't understand.
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  Speaker 1: I don't know what it was.
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  Speaker 2: I just know I'll never camp in that section of
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  Speaker 2: the trail again. Before we continue, I want to ask
• 8:10
  Speaker 2: you something. If you're listening to this right now, you're
• 8:13
  Speaker 2: part of a small community of people who appreciate True
• 8:16
  Speaker 2: wilderness horror stories.
• 8:18
  Speaker 1: Help this channel grow by hitting subscribe.
• 8:21
  Speaker 2: I'm trying to reach 1,000 subscribers before my birthday next month.
• 8:25
  Speaker 2: Share this with friends who love the outdoors or who
• 8:28
  Speaker 2: enjoy a good scare. And drop a comment. What's the
• 8:31
  Speaker 2: scariest experience you've had in nature? Now, let's continue with.
• 8:35
  Speaker 1: Our third story. Story three.
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  Speaker 2: I'm a paramedic in Atlanta, so I'm pretty level-headed when
• 8:41
  Speaker 2: it comes to emergencies and keeping calm under pressure. It's
• 8:45
  Speaker 2: literally my job. But what happened to me on Blood
• 8:47
  Speaker 2: Mountain in Georgia in 2015 still gives me nightmares. I'd
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  Speaker 2: gone up for a weekend camping trip with two buddies
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  Speaker 2: from work, Jake and Connor. Blood Mountain is a popular
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  Speaker 2: spot on the AT, known for the historic stone shelter
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  Speaker 2: at the summit. We planned to hike up Friday afternoon,
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  Speaker 2: camp at the shelter, and hike back down Sunday. Friday
• 9:08
  Speaker 2: evening was normal. The shelter was crowded, maybe 15 people.
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  Speaker 2: So we set up our tents nearby instead of trying
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  Speaker 2: to squeeze inside. We made dinner, had a few beers,
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  Speaker 2: talked with other campers.
• 9:18
  Speaker 1: It was a good time. Around 11 p.m., most people
• 9:21
  Speaker 1: had turned in for the night.
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  Speaker 2: Jake, Connor, and I were still sitting around our small
• 9:26
  Speaker 2: camp stove, talking quietly. The shelter was maybe 30 feet away.
• 9:31
  Speaker 2: We could hear a few people still moving around inside. Then,
• 9:35
  Speaker 2: we heard something moving in the darkness beyond our campsite.
• 9:38
  Speaker 2: Something big, pushing through the underbrush with heavy, deliberate steps.
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  Speaker 1: Bear? Connor whispered. We'd hung our food properly, so.
• 9:48
  Speaker 2: I wasn't too worried. Bears were common in the area.
• 9:51
  Speaker 2: We sat quietly, waiting for it to pass. But it
• 9:54
  Speaker 2: didn't pass. It stopped just beyond the range of our headlamps.
• 9:58
  Speaker 2: And we could hear it breathing. Deep, wheezing breaths that
• 10:02
  Speaker 2: sounded almost human, but not quite. Jake turned on his
• 10:07
  Speaker 2: high-powered flashlight and aimed it into the trees. I've tried
• 10:11
  Speaker 2: to describe what we saw to other people, but words
• 10:14
  Speaker 2: don't really capture it. It was vaguely human-shaped, standing upright
• 10:18
  Speaker 2: on two legs, but it was massive, easily eight or
• 10:21
  Speaker 2: nine feet tall. The body was covered in dark hair
• 10:24
  Speaker 2: or fur, matted and filthy, but the face, the face
• 10:29
  Speaker 2: is what still haunts me. It looked almost human, but
• 10:33
  Speaker 2: the features were elongated, distorted. The eyes reflected the flashlight
• 10:37
  Speaker 2: beam like an animal's glowing yellow-green. The mouth was too wide,
• 10:41
  Speaker 2: stretching almost ear to ear. And even from 30 feet away,
• 10:45
  Speaker 2: we could see the teeth, Too many teeth. All wrong.
• 10:49
  Speaker 2: For maybe five seconds, we all just stared at it.
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  Speaker 1: It stared back. Then it screamed.
• 10:56
  Speaker 2: Not a roar, not a howl, but a scream that
• 10:59
  Speaker 2: sounded like a woman being murdered, mixed with something that
• 11:01
  Speaker 2: shouldn't exist. The sound was so loud, so piercing, that
• 11:05
  Speaker 2: I felt it in my chest. People in the shelter
• 11:08
  Speaker 2: started shouting. Someone yelled, What the hell was that? The
• 11:12
  Speaker 2: thing took a step toward us, and that broke our paralysis.
• 11:15
  Speaker 2: We scrambled for the shelter, not even bothering with our gear.
• 11:18
  Speaker 2: All 15 of us crammed inside, someone pulled the door closed,
• 11:21
  Speaker 2: and we waited. We could hear it moving around outside.
• 11:25
  Speaker 2: It circled the shelter several times, sometimes scratching at the
• 11:29
  Speaker 2: stone walls, sometimes making that horrible wheezing sound. Twice more
• 11:33
  Speaker 2: it screamed, and each time someone in the shelter would
• 11:36
  Speaker 2: start crying or praying. This went on for over three hours. Finally,
• 11:41
  Speaker 2: maybe around 2.30 a.m., the sound stopped. We waited until
• 11:46
  Speaker 2: sunrise before anyone dared to go outside. Our campsite had
• 11:50
  Speaker 2: been destroyed, tents torn apart, gear scattered everywhere. Our packs
• 11:54
  Speaker 2: had been opened, food containers crushed and empty. But here's
• 11:58
  Speaker 2: the thing that really got to me. There were handprints
• 12:01
  Speaker 2: in the dirt around the shelter. Not paw prints, handprints.
• 12:05
  Speaker 2: But they were huge, easily twice the size of mine.
• 12:09
  Speaker 2: And the fingers were too long, the proportions all wrong.
• 12:13
  Speaker 2: We grabbed what we could salvage, and hiked down the
• 12:15
  Speaker 2: mountain without even making breakfast. At the trailhead, we reported
• 12:19
  Speaker 2: what happened to a Forest Service ranger. He looked uncomfortable,
• 12:23
  Speaker 2: said they'd gotten similar reports from Blood Mountain over the years.
• 12:27
  Speaker 1: What do you think it is? I asked him. He
• 12:29
  Speaker 1: shook his head. Above my pay grade.
• 12:33
  Speaker 2: But you're not the first people to come down from
• 12:34
  Speaker 2: that mountain looking like they've seen a ghost. I've looked
• 12:38
  Speaker 2: into it since then. Blood Mountain has a long history
• 12:41
  Speaker 2: of strange sightings, going back to Native American legends.
• 12:45
  Speaker 1: Cherokee stories talk about giants and moon-eyed.
• 12:48
  Speaker 2: People in those mountains. Modern hikers report everything from Bigfoot
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  Speaker 2: sightings to encounters with something that doesn't fit any known category.
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  Speaker 1: I don't know what we saw. Jake and Connor won't
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  Speaker 1: talk about it anymore.
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  Speaker 2: Both of them get visibly uncomfortable when it comes up.
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  Speaker 2: But I know what I saw was real. I know
• 13:05
  Speaker 2: we all saw the same thing. And I know I'll
• 13:07
  Speaker 2: never set foot on Blood Mountain again. Story 4. This
• 13:12
  Speaker 2: happened in May of 2012. I was 31 years old,
• 13:15
  Speaker 2: going through a divorce, and needed to get away from
• 13:17
  Speaker 2: everything for a while. A friend suggested I try hiking.
• 13:21
  Speaker 2: Said it might help clear my head. I'd never been
• 13:23
  Speaker 2: much of an outdoorsy person, but I was willing to
• 13:26
  Speaker 2: try anything. I chose a section of the AT in Tennessee,
• 13:29
  Speaker 2: somewhere between Newfound Gap and Clingmans Dome. My friend Rachel
• 13:33
  Speaker 2: came with me for the first day to make sure
• 13:34
  Speaker 2: I didn't get lost or do something stupid, but she
• 13:37
  Speaker 2: had to get back for work. The plan was for
• 13:40
  Speaker 2: me to continue alone for three more days. The morning
• 13:43
  Speaker 2: Rachel left, I felt confident. The trail was well marked,
• 13:46
  Speaker 2: the weather was beautiful, and I had plenty of supplies.
• 13:49
  Speaker 2: I hiked about eight miles that day and set up
• 13:51
  Speaker 2: camp near a small stream. That evening I was filtering
• 13:55
  Speaker 2: water when I saw a woman on the other side
• 13:56
  Speaker 2: of the stream. She was maybe 40 feet away, standing
• 14:00
  Speaker 2: perfectly still watching me. She wore a long white dress
• 14:03
  Speaker 2: that looked like something from a hundred years ago, and
• 14:06
  Speaker 2: her hair was long and dark, hanging loose around her shoulders.
• 14:10
  Speaker 1: Hello? I called out, waving.
• 14:13
  Speaker 2: She didn't respond, didn't move at all, just stared at
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  Speaker 2: me with an expression I couldn't quite read. I felt
• 14:20
  Speaker 2: a little uncomfortable but figured maybe she was another hiker,
• 14:23
  Speaker 2: possibly someone doing a historical costume hike or something.
• 14:27
  Speaker 1: People do weird things on trails.
• 14:29
  Speaker 2: I turned back to filtering my water, and when I
• 14:31
  Speaker 2: looked up again maybe 30 seconds later, she was gone.
• 14:36
  Speaker 2: I scanned the area but didn't see her anywhere. The
• 14:39
  Speaker 2: forest was thick though, so I assumed she'd just walked
• 14:41
  Speaker 2: into the trees. That night, I kept my headlamp close.
• 14:45
  Speaker 2: I'm not sure why, but I felt uneasy. Around midnight,
• 14:49
  Speaker 2: I woke up to the sound of humming. A woman's voice,
• 14:52
  Speaker 2: soft and melodic, humming a tune I didn't recognize. It
• 14:56
  Speaker 2: sounded like it was coming from right outside my tent.
• 15:00
  Speaker 1: Hello? I called out. Is someone there?
• 15:04
  Speaker 2: The humming stopped. I waited for a response, but got nothing.
• 15:08
  Speaker 2: After a few minutes of silence, I convinced myself it
• 15:11
  Speaker 2: had been the wind or my imagination. but I didn't
• 15:13
  Speaker 2: sleep well the rest of the night. The next day,
• 15:16
  Speaker 2: I packed up early and started hiking. I'd gone maybe
• 15:19
  Speaker 2: two miles when I saw her again. The same woman
• 15:21
  Speaker 2: in the white dress, standing on the trail ahead of me,
• 15:24
  Speaker 2: maybe 50 yards away.
• 15:25
  Speaker 1: This time she was facing me directly.
• 15:28
  Speaker 2: I stopped walking. Something about her felt wrong now. The
• 15:32
  Speaker 2: way she stood was too still, too perfect. And even
• 15:36
  Speaker 2: from a distance, I could see that her eyes were
• 15:37
  Speaker 2: completely black. No whites, no color, just black.
• 15:41
  Speaker 1: Excuse me. I said loudly, my voice shaking. You're blocking
• 15:45
  Speaker 1: the trail.
• 15:47
  Speaker 2: She tilted her head to the side in a motion
• 15:48
  Speaker 2: that was too smooth, too fluid, almost mechanical. Then she smiled,
• 15:53
  Speaker 2: and that smile stretched too wide, revealing teeth that were
• 15:57
  Speaker 2: too white, too perfect. I backed up a step, then another.
• 16:02
  Speaker 2: She started walking toward me, still smiling, and her movements
• 16:04
  Speaker 2: were all wrong. She glided more than walked, her feet
• 16:08
  Speaker 2: barely seeming to touch the ground. I turned and ran.
• 16:12
  Speaker 2: just flat out ran back the way I'd come, my
• 16:15
  Speaker 2: pack bouncing painfully against my back. I didn't look behind
• 16:18
  Speaker 2: me for the first few minutes, too terrified of what
• 16:21
  Speaker 2: I might see. When I finally did glance back, she
• 16:24
  Speaker 2: was there, maybe 20 feet behind me, still gliding along
• 16:27
  Speaker 2: the trail, still smiling, her black eyes fixed on me.
• 16:31
  Speaker 2: I ran for over an hour, pushing myself to the
• 16:34
  Speaker 2: point of exhaustion. My lungs burned, my legs screamed, but
• 16:38
  Speaker 2: pure terror kept me moving. Finally, I burst into a
• 16:41
  Speaker 2: clearing where it Two other hikers were taking a break.
• 16:44
  Speaker 2: I must have looked insane, gasping for breath, wild-eyed, sweat-soaked.
• 16:49
  Speaker 2: They asked if I was okay, if I needed help.
• 16:51
  Speaker 2: I looked back down the trail. The woman was gone.
• 16:55
  Speaker 2: I tried to explain what had happened, but even as
• 16:57
  Speaker 2: the words came out of my mouth, I knew how
• 16:59
  Speaker 2: crazy they sounded. The other hikers were kind, suggested I
• 17:03
  Speaker 2: might be dehydrated or experiencing altitude sickness. They shared their
• 17:07
  Speaker 2: water with me and convinced me to hike with them
• 17:09
  Speaker 2: to the next shelter. but that night, camped at the
• 17:12
  Speaker 2: shelter with six other people.
• 17:14
  Speaker 1: I saw her again.
• 17:15
  Speaker 2: She was standing in the trees just beyond our campfire light,
• 17:18
  Speaker 2: barely visible in the darkness, but I could see that
• 17:20
  Speaker 2: white dress and those black eyes. I grabbed a guy
• 17:24
  Speaker 2: next to me and pointed.
• 17:25
  Speaker 1: Do you see her? The woman in white? He looked
• 17:29
  Speaker 1: where I was pointing. I don't see anyone.
• 17:33
  Speaker 2: I stared at her, and she stared back. Then she
• 17:35
  Speaker 2: raised one hand and beckoned to me, that same come
• 17:38
  Speaker 2: here gesture. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to stand
• 17:41
  Speaker 2: up and walk toward her, but I fought it, gripping
• 17:44
  Speaker 2: the edge of my seat so hard my knuckles turned white.
• 17:47
  Speaker 1: I need to leave, I told the group. I need
• 17:49
  Speaker 1: to get off this trail.
• 17:52
  Speaker 2: They thought I was having some kind of breakdown, which
• 17:54
  Speaker 2: I guess I was, but several people agreed to hike
• 17:57
  Speaker 2: out with me at first light, concerned enough about my
• 17:59
  Speaker 2: mental state that they didn't want me to be alone.
• 18:03
  Speaker 2: We left at dawn, and I hiked the eight miles
• 18:05
  Speaker 2: to the nearest road in near silence. Every time I
• 18:08
  Speaker 2: looked into the trees, I thought I saw her, always watching,
• 18:11
  Speaker 2: always smiling. I made it to the parking area and
• 18:14
  Speaker 2: drove straight home, a 12-hour drive that I did in
• 18:17
  Speaker 2: one stretch because I couldn't stand the thought of stopping.
• 18:21
  Speaker 2: I've done research since then, looking for any explanation. The
• 18:25
  Speaker 2: closest thing I found were stories about the White Lady,
• 18:28
  Speaker 2: a ghost or spirit that appears on various sections of
• 18:31
  Speaker 2: the AT. Descriptions vary, but the common elements are the
• 18:35
  Speaker 2: white dress, the unnatural stillness, and the black eyes. Some
• 18:39
  Speaker 2: people say she's a woman who died on the trail
• 18:41
  Speaker 2: and now lures hikers to their deaths. Others think she's
• 18:45
  Speaker 2: something older, something that was in these mountains long before
• 18:48
  Speaker 2: the trail existed. I don't know what she was. I
• 18:52
  Speaker 2: just know that I'll never go hiking alone again. And sometimes,
• 18:55
  Speaker 2: even now, I'll catch a glimpse of white in my
• 18:58
  Speaker 2: peripheral vision, and my heart will stop thinking she's found
• 19:01
  Speaker 2: me again.
• 19:02
  Speaker 1: Story five.
• 19:04
  Speaker 2: I'm generally a skeptical person, I'm an accountant.
• 19:07
  Speaker 1: I deal in numbers and facts.
• 19:09
  Speaker 2: But I can't explain what happened to me and my
• 19:10
  Speaker 2: brother Kevin on the AT in North Carolina in October 2016.
• 19:13
  Speaker 2: We'd planned a five-day hiking trip, just the two of us.
• 19:18
  Speaker 2: Kevin had just finished his master's degree and wanted to
• 19:20
  Speaker 2: celebrate before starting his new job. We'd hiked together plenty
• 19:24
  Speaker 2: of times before, knew what we were doing, had good
• 19:26
  Speaker 2: gear and experience. The first three days were perfect. Good weather,
• 19:30
  Speaker 2: beautiful scenery. We were making great time. On the fourth night,
• 19:35
  Speaker 2: we set up camp in a small clearing about 50
• 19:37
  Speaker 2: yards off the trail. It was a nice spot, flat
• 19:40
  Speaker 2: and surrounded by trees, with a good view of the stars.
• 19:43
  Speaker 2: We made dinner, hung our food properly, and were sitting
• 19:46
  Speaker 2: by our small camp stove talking about Kevin's new job.
• 19:49
  Speaker 1: When we heard the first rock hit the ground.
• 19:52
  Speaker 2: It wasn't close, maybe 30 yards away in the darkness,
• 19:54
  Speaker 2: but we definitely heard it. A distinct thunk of something
• 19:58
  Speaker 2: hitting the forest floor. Probably just a branch falling, Kevin said.
• 20:03
  Speaker 2: Then another rock hit, this one closer, maybe 20 yards away.
• 20:07
  Speaker 1: Then another, then another.
• 20:09
  Speaker 2: We turned on our flashlights and scanned the woods, but
• 20:11
  Speaker 2: didn't see anything. The rocks kept falling all around our campsite,
• 20:16
  Speaker 2: creating a perimeter. They weren't big, fist-sized mostly, but they
• 20:21
  Speaker 2: were definitely rocks, not branches or pine cones. That's weird,
• 20:25
  Speaker 2: I said, which was an understatement. Then we heard something
• 20:29
  Speaker 2: that made my blood run cold.
• 20:31
  Speaker 1: Laughter.
• 20:32
  Speaker 2: Not friendly laughter, but mocking, mean-spirited laughter, coming from the
• 20:37
  Speaker 2: darkness on all sides of our campsite. The rock throwing intensified.
• 20:42
  Speaker 2: Now they were landing closer, some coming within five feet
• 20:45
  Speaker 2: of us. We scrambled into one of our tents, zipping
• 20:48
  Speaker 2: at clothes like that would somehow protect us. For the
• 20:52
  Speaker 2: next four hours, rocks pelted our campsite. Some hit our tent,
• 20:56
  Speaker 2: hard enough that we thought they might tear through the fabric.
• 20:59
  Speaker 2: The laughter continued, sometimes sounding like one voice, sometimes like
• 21:02
  Speaker 2: many voices. They would call out to us, saying things
• 21:05
  Speaker 2: we couldn't quite understand. words that sounded almost like English
• 21:09
  Speaker 2: but weren't. We huddled in that tent, both of us
• 21:13
  Speaker 2: too terrified to speak. Kevin tried calling 911 on his phone,
• 21:18
  Speaker 2: but we had no signal. We considered making a run
• 21:21
  Speaker 2: for it, but the thought of going out there in
• 21:23
  Speaker 2: the darkness while being pelted with rocks and surrounded by
• 21:27
  Speaker 2: whatever was laughing at us seemed worse than staying put.
• 21:31
  Speaker 2: Around 3 a.m., everything stopped. The rocks, the laughter, everything.
• 21:36
  Speaker 2: The silence was almost worse. We waited until first light
• 21:39
  Speaker 2: to emerge from the tent. Our campsite was littered with rocks,
• 21:43
  Speaker 2: dozens of them, all roughly the same size, all clearly
• 21:46
  Speaker 2: thrown with force based on how deep some had embedded in.
• 21:49
  Speaker 1: Their soft ground. But here's what really got to us.
• 21:52
  Speaker 2: When we examined the area, there were no footprints around
• 21:55
  Speaker 2: our campsite except our own. The rocks had been thrown
• 21:58
  Speaker 2: from multiple directions, close range, but there was no evidence
• 22:02
  Speaker 2: of anyone having been there. We packed up in record
• 22:05
  Speaker 2: time and hiked out without breakfast. At the next shelter,
• 22:08
  Speaker 2: maybe five miles down the trail, we met an older
• 22:11
  Speaker 2: couple who'd been hiking the AT on and off for
• 22:13
  Speaker 2: 20 years. You guys look like you've seen a ghost,
• 22:17
  Speaker 2: the woman said. We told them what happened. They exchanged
• 22:21
  Speaker 2: a look that made me think they knew something. Was
• 22:24
  Speaker 2: this near the old Cherokee village site, the man asked.
• 22:27
  Speaker 2: We weren't sure, but we described the location. The couple nodded.
• 22:32
  Speaker 2: Rock throwing, the woman said quietly. It's been reported in
• 22:35
  Speaker 2: this area for decades. No one knows what causes it.
• 22:39
  Speaker 2: Some people think it's kids playing pranks. But there are
• 22:42
  Speaker 2: reports going back to the 1800s, long before this section
• 22:45
  Speaker 2: of trail existed. What do you think it is?
• 22:48
  Speaker 1: Kevin asked. The man shrugged.
• 22:50
  Speaker 2: Could be spirits. Could be something else. These mountains are old,
• 22:55
  Speaker 2: and not everything in them is friendly to humans. We
• 22:59
  Speaker 2: hiked out that day instead of finishing our planned route.
• 23:02
  Speaker 2: Kevin has refused to go hiking with me since then.
• 23:05
  Speaker 2: He says he's too busy with work, but I know
• 23:07
  Speaker 2: the real reason. I've tried to rationalize it. Maybe it
• 23:11
  Speaker 2: was people messing with us, though the lack of footprints
• 23:14
  Speaker 2: makes that hard to believe. Maybe it was some kind
• 23:17
  Speaker 2: of geological phenomenon. Though I've never found any scientific explanation
• 23:22
  Speaker 2: for spontaneous rock throwing.
• 23:25
  Speaker 1: Whatever it was, it was real.
• 23:27
  Speaker 2: We both experienced it, and we have the bruises from
• 23:30
  Speaker 2: being hit by rocks to prove it. I still hike occasionally,
• 23:34
  Speaker 2: but I always check the local history of an area first.
• 23:37
  Speaker 2: And if I hear about rock throwing or unexplained laughter,
• 23:40
  Speaker 2: I find somewhere else to go. This is a good
• 23:43
  Speaker 2: point to pause and ask, are you enjoying these stories?
• 23:46
  Speaker 2: If you want to help this channel reach 1,000 subscribers
• 23:49
  Speaker 2: before my birthday next month.
• 23:51
  Speaker 1: Hit that subscribe button now. Every single subscription helps.
• 23:55
  Speaker 2: And please drop a comment telling me which story has
• 23:57
  Speaker 2: been the scariest so far.
• 23:59
  Speaker 1: I love hearing from you all. Now let's continue with
• 24:02
  Speaker 1: story six. Story six. I'm a nurse.
• 24:06
  Speaker 2: I work night shifts at a hospital in Richmond, Virginia,
• 24:09
  Speaker 2: so I'm used to strange hours and being awake when
• 24:11
  Speaker 2: most people are asleep. But what happened to me in
• 24:13
  Speaker 2: May 2019 on the AT completely defied logic. I'd taken
• 24:19
  Speaker 2: a week off work to do a solo hike, something
• 24:21
  Speaker 2: I'd wanted to do for years. I'm a very organized person,
• 24:26
  Speaker 2: had maps, GPS, all my shelters planned out in advance.
• 24:30
  Speaker 2: I knew exactly where I'd be sleeping each night. Day
• 24:33
  Speaker 2: three of my hike, I was heading toward a shelter
• 24:35
  Speaker 2: called Thunder Hill. According to my map and guidebook, it
• 24:39
  Speaker 2: was 11.3 miles from where I'd camped the night before.
• 24:42
  Speaker 2: I started early, made good time, and by 4 p.m.,
• 24:45
  Speaker 2: I'd hiked what my GPS confirmed was 11.3 miles. But
• 24:49
  Speaker 2: there was no shelter. I checked my GPS again, checked
• 24:53
  Speaker 2: my map. I was definitely in the right location. The
• 24:56
  Speaker 2: trail markers confirmed it. But where Thunder Hill's shelter should
• 24:59
  Speaker 2: have been, there was just forest. I walked back and
• 25:02
  Speaker 2: forth along the trail for 15 minutes, thinking maybe I'd
• 25:06
  Speaker 2: missed a side trail or the shelter was more hidden
• 25:08
  Speaker 2: than I expected.
• 25:10
  Speaker 1: Nothing.
• 25:11
  Speaker 2: The sun was setting, and I didn't have time to
• 25:13
  Speaker 2: hike to the next shelter, which was another seven miles.
• 25:16
  Speaker 2: I'd have to make camp wherever I could find a
• 25:19
  Speaker 2: flat spot. I pushed into the woods off the trail,
• 25:22
  Speaker 2: looking for a suitable camping spot, and.
• 25:23
  Speaker 1: That's when I saw it. A shelter. Not Thunder Hill.
• 25:27
  Speaker 2: Shelter as it appeared in my photos from the guidebook,
• 25:30
  Speaker 2: but a shelter nonetheless.
• 25:32
  Speaker 1: It was old, really old.
• 25:34
  Speaker 2: The wood was weathered gray, and parts of the roof
• 25:37
  Speaker 2: looked like they might collapse at any moment. But it
• 25:39
  Speaker 2: had three walls and a partial roof, better than sleeping
• 25:42
  Speaker 2: fully exposed to the elements. I approached cautiously. The area
• 25:47
  Speaker 2: around it was overgrown, like no one had been there
• 25:49
  Speaker 2: in years. There was no firing, no logbook, none of
• 25:53
  Speaker 2: the usual signs of an active shelter. But I was tired,
• 25:57
  Speaker 2: and it was getting dark, so I decided to stay there.
• 26:00
  Speaker 2: I set up my sleeping bag inside, made a simple
• 26:02
  Speaker 2: dinner on my camp stove, and settled in for the night.
• 26:06
  Speaker 1: Around midnight, I woke up to voices.
• 26:08
  Speaker 2: At first, I thought other hikers had arrived, but when
• 26:11
  Speaker 2: I opened my eyes, I saw people inside the shelter
• 26:13
  Speaker 2: with me, maybe six or seven of them, sitting around
• 26:16
  Speaker 2: a fire that definitely hadn't been there when I went
• 26:19
  Speaker 2: to sleep. They were dressed strangely in what looked like
• 26:23
  Speaker 2: clothes from the 1930s or 40s. Work clothes, simple dresses.
• 26:27
  Speaker 2: They were talking to each other, laughing. passing around a
• 26:30
  Speaker 2: bottle of something. I sat up and they all turned
• 26:33
  Speaker 2: to look at me. That's when I realized I could
• 26:35
  Speaker 2: see through them, just slightly. Transparent like images projected on smoke.
• 26:40
  Speaker 2: One of them, an older man with a weathered face,
• 26:42
  Speaker 2: smiled at me.
• 26:44
  Speaker 1: Lost, are you?
• 26:45
  Speaker 2: I couldn't speak, couldn't move. My brain was trying to
• 26:48
  Speaker 2: process what I was seeing and failing completely. Don't worry,
• 26:52
  Speaker 2: a woman said kindly. Lots of folks get lost in
• 26:55
  Speaker 2: these mountains.
• 26:57
  Speaker 1: This shelter's seen many a weary traveler.
• 27:00
  Speaker 2: What?
• 27:00
  Speaker 1: What is this?
• 27:01
  Speaker 2: I finally managed to ask. The older man took a
• 27:04
  Speaker 2: swig from the bottle.
• 27:06
  Speaker 1: This?
• 27:07
  Speaker 2: This is Thunder Hill Shelter, or it was back when
• 27:10
  Speaker 2: it stood. Been gone nigh on fifty years now.
• 27:13
  Speaker 1: I reckon. That's impossible, I whispered.
• 27:17
  Speaker 2: Is it? He gestured around. Yet here you are, sleeping
• 27:21
  Speaker 2: in it. I looked down at my sleeping bag, at
• 27:25
  Speaker 2: the floor beneath me. It looked solid, felt solid. But
• 27:29
  Speaker 2: these people were transparent, ghostly. What happened to you all,
• 27:33
  Speaker 2: I asked. The woman's smile faded. Winter of 38. Storm
• 27:39
  Speaker 2: came through, worse than anyone had seen. We were caught
• 27:42
  Speaker 2: up here, couldn't make it down the mountain. Froze to death,
• 27:45
  Speaker 2: all of us, right here in this shelter. We stay on,
• 27:49
  Speaker 2: the old man said. Keep watch over the mountain, help
• 27:52
  Speaker 2: those who need it. They talked to me for hours,
• 27:55
  Speaker 2: told me stories about the mountain. about the trail before
• 27:58
  Speaker 2: it was officially the Appalachian Trail, about the people who'd
• 28:01
  Speaker 2: passed through over the decades. They were kind, these ghosts,
• 28:05
  Speaker 2: almost comforting in their strange way. As dawn approached, they
• 28:09
  Speaker 2: began to fade. The old man was the last to go.
• 28:13
  Speaker 2: Follow the trail north, he said. You'll find your way.
• 28:16
  Speaker 2: Then he was gone, and I was alone in the
• 28:19
  Speaker 2: ruins of a shelter that officially didn't exist anymore. I
• 28:23
  Speaker 2: packed up and hiked out as the sun rose, A
• 28:25
  Speaker 2: mile up the trail, I found the actual current Thunder
• 28:27
  Speaker 2: Hill Shelter, the one that had been rebuilt in the 1990s.
• 28:32
  Speaker 1: I met a thru-hiker there, making breakfast. I asked him
• 28:35
  Speaker 1: about the old shelter. Oh, yeah, he said. Original Thunder
• 28:39
  Speaker 1: Hill Shelter was down the mountain a ways.
• 28:42
  Speaker 2: Collapsed in the 80s, I think. They built this new
• 28:45
  Speaker 2: one closer to the trail. Why?
• 28:46
  Speaker 1: I didn't tell him why. I just thanked him and
• 28:49
  Speaker 1: continued hiking. Later, I did research.
• 28:53
  Speaker 2: I found records of seven people who died in a
• 28:55
  Speaker 2: winter storm in 1938 near Thunder Hill. Their names matched
• 29:00
  Speaker 2: some of the people I'd met that night. I don't
• 29:04
  Speaker 2: believe in ghosts, at least I didn't. But I know
• 29:07
  Speaker 2: what I experienced was real. I slept in a shelter
• 29:12
  Speaker 2: that no longer exists and talked with people who died
• 29:15
  Speaker 2: 80 years ago. The mountains hold more than we understand,
• 29:18
  Speaker 2: more than science can explain. And sometimes if you're lost enough,
• 29:23
  Speaker 2: you might find yourself in a place that exists between
• 29:25
  Speaker 2: what was and what is.
• 29:27
  Speaker 1: Story seven.
• 29:29
  Speaker 2: I work construction in Pennsylvania, been doing it for 20 years.
• 29:32
  Speaker 2: I'm not scared of much. Not heights, not hard work,
• 29:35
  Speaker 2: not long hours. But after what happened to me on
• 29:38
  Speaker 2: the AT in 2017, I'm scared of one thing. The
• 29:41
  Speaker 2: sound I'd heard in those mountains.
• 29:43
  Speaker 1: It was August, hot as hell.
• 29:45
  Speaker 2: I'd taken a few days off to hike and camp.
• 29:47
  Speaker 2: Needed to get away from the city noise. I drove
• 29:50
  Speaker 2: down to Maryland, started hiking near Harper's Ferry.
• 29:53
  Speaker 1: First day was good, hot but good.
• 29:55
  Speaker 2: I made camp that night near a stream, had a
• 29:57
  Speaker 2: nice dinner and fell asleep listening to the water. Second day,
• 30:01
  Speaker 2: I hiked about 12 miles, pushed myself hard in the heat,
• 30:04
  Speaker 2: made camp in the early evening exhausted but satisfied. That's
• 30:08
  Speaker 2: when I heard it for the first time. It started
• 30:10
  Speaker 2: just after sunset. A sound from deep in the forest,
• 30:13
  Speaker 2: almost like a tree falling, but wrong. It was organic,
• 30:17
  Speaker 2: like something alive making that sound. A deep, resonant booming
• 30:21
  Speaker 2: that I felt in my chest as much as I heard.
• 30:24
  Speaker 2: I sat up listening. The sound came again, closer this time.
• 30:29
  Speaker 2: like a giant drum being struck. Then I heard movement
• 30:32
  Speaker 2: in the trees. Something big moving through the forest, breaking branches.
• 30:37
  Speaker 2: The drumming sound came again, and I realized it was
• 30:40
  Speaker 2: synchronized with the movement. Whatever was making that sound was
• 30:43
  Speaker 2: also moving toward me. I grabbed my flashlight and knife,
• 30:47
  Speaker 2: the only weapon I had. The sound got closer, the
• 30:50
  Speaker 2: drumming getting louder, the trees shaking. I could see branches
• 30:54
  Speaker 2: moving in the darkness, something massive pushing through the forest.
• 30:58
  Speaker 2: Then it stopped, maybe 50 feet from my tent. The
• 31:02
  Speaker 2: silence was worse than the sound. I waited, barely breathing,
• 31:06
  Speaker 2: expecting it to rush my camp at any moment. Instead,
• 31:10
  Speaker 2: I heard breathing. Deep, slow breaths that were too loud
• 31:14
  Speaker 2: to be human. Each exhale was followed by that drumming sound,
• 31:18
  Speaker 2: like whatever it was was beating on its own chest.
• 31:21
  Speaker 1: This went on for hours.
• 31:23
  Speaker 2: It would move around my campsite, never getting closer than
• 31:26
  Speaker 2: 50 feet, but never leaving either.
• 31:29
  Speaker 1: Just circling, drumming, breathing.
• 31:31
  Speaker 2: I didn't sleep at all that night. Just sat in
• 31:34
  Speaker 2: my tent, knife in hand, listening. When dawn finally came,
• 31:38
  Speaker 2: I heard it retreat, moving back into the deep forest
• 31:42
  Speaker 2: with that same branch-breaking sound. I emerged from my tent
• 31:46
  Speaker 2: exhausted and terrified. I should have packed up and left
• 31:49
  Speaker 2: right then, but I was stubborn. Thought maybe it had
• 31:52
  Speaker 2: been a bear or something explainable. I stayed another night.
• 31:56
  Speaker 1: Big mistake.
• 31:57
  Speaker 2: The second night, it came back, but this time it
• 32:00
  Speaker 2: wasn't alone. I heard multiple drumming sounds, at least three
• 32:03
  Speaker 2: different sources, all around my campsite. And this time, they vocalized.
• 32:09
  Speaker 2: Not roars or growls, but sounds almost like words, deep
• 32:13
  Speaker 2: and guttural, like someone trying to speak with a mouth
• 32:16
  Speaker 2: not designed for human speech. They called back and forth
• 32:20
  Speaker 2: to each other, these deep, booming voices in the darkness.
• 32:23
  Speaker 2: Sometimes they would all drum in unison, a sound so powerful,
• 32:27
  Speaker 2: It vibrated my tent. I was convinced I was going
• 32:30
  Speaker 2: to die. Whatever these things were, they had me surrounded.
• 32:34
  Speaker 2: Could have rushed my tent at any moment.
• 32:37
  Speaker 1: But they didn't.
• 32:38
  Speaker 2: They just kept circling, drumming, calling to each other. Around
• 32:42
  Speaker 2: 3 a.m., I heard a new sound. Footsteps approaching my tent.
• 32:47
  Speaker 2: Not the heavy movement of whatever was drumming, but regular
• 32:50
  Speaker 2: human footsteps. Someone walking through my campsite. Then I heard
• 32:54
  Speaker 2: a voice.
• 32:55
  Speaker 1: Human.
• 32:57
  Speaker 2: A man's voice, speaking clearly.
• 32:59
  Speaker 1: Robert, come out, Robert. It knew my name.
• 33:04
  Speaker 2: I hadn't told anyone my name. I was hiking alone.
• 33:07
  Speaker 2: Hadn't registered at any shelter. Hadn't talked to anyone on
• 33:09
  Speaker 2: the trail that day. There was no way anything out
• 33:12
  Speaker 2: there should know who I was. Robert, the voice said again,
• 33:15
  Speaker 2: closer now. We've been waiting for you.
• 33:18
  Speaker 1: Come join us. The drumming stopped.
• 33:22
  Speaker 2: Everything went silent, except for those footsteps circling my tent. No,
• 33:28
  Speaker 2: I said, my voice cracking.
• 33:30
  Speaker 1: Leave me alone. The footsteps stopped right outside my tent.
• 33:35
  Speaker 2: I could see a shadow through the fabric, a human-shaped shadow,
• 33:38
  Speaker 2: but too tall, maybe seven or eight feet. Suit yourself,
• 33:43
  Speaker 2: the voice said, but we'll be here. We're always here
• 33:46
  Speaker 2: in these mountains, and we'll see you again, Robert. Then
• 33:50
  Speaker 2: the shadow moved away, and the drumming started up again,
• 33:53
  Speaker 2: farther away this time, retreating into the forest. I packed
• 33:57
  Speaker 2: up my tent in the darkness by the light of
• 33:59
  Speaker 2: my headlamp and hiked out.
• 34:01
  Speaker 1: I didn't care that it was 4 a.m.
• 34:03
  Speaker 2: Didn't care that hiking in the dark was dangerous. I
• 34:06
  Speaker 2: needed to get off that mountain. I made it to
• 34:09
  Speaker 2: a road crossing by dawn and hitched a ride to
• 34:11
  Speaker 2: the nearest town. The guy who picked me up asked
• 34:14
  Speaker 2: if I was okay. Said I looked like I'd seen
• 34:16
  Speaker 2: a ghost. Worse than a ghost, I told him. I've
• 34:20
  Speaker 2: never been back to that section of trail. and I've
• 34:23
  Speaker 2: spent hours online trying to find any explanation for what
• 34:27
  Speaker 2: I heard. Some people talk about wood knocks, sounds that
• 34:30
  Speaker 2: Bigfoot researchers claim are made by Sasquatch. But this was different,
• 34:34
  Speaker 2: more rhythmic, more deliberate. And the voice knowing my name?
• 34:39
  Speaker 2: I've got no explanation for that at all. Whatever is
• 34:42
  Speaker 2: in those mountains, it's intelligent, it's territorial, and it knows
• 34:46
  Speaker 2: things it shouldn't know. That's scarier than any animal could
• 34:50
  Speaker 2: ever be. Story 8. I'm a veterinarian in Asheville, North Carolina.
• 34:56
  Speaker 2: I've spent my entire adult life working with animals, so
• 34:59
  Speaker 2: I know animal behavior pretty well.
• 35:01
  Speaker 1: I know what's normal and what isn't.
• 35:03
  Speaker 2: What I saw on the Appalachian Trail in September 2020 was.
• 35:06
  Speaker 1: Not normal by any standard.
• 35:08
  Speaker 2: I'd gone up for a long weekend, planning to do
• 35:10
  Speaker 2: about 30 miles over three days. It was just after
• 35:13
  Speaker 2: the pandemic lockdowns had started to ease, and I desperately
• 35:17
  Speaker 2: needed to get out of the city and clear my head.
• 35:20
  Speaker 2: The trail was less crowded than usual, which I appreciated.
• 35:23
  Speaker 1: The first day was uneventful.
• 35:25
  Speaker 2: I hiked about 12 miles and set up camp at
• 35:27
  Speaker 2: a designated site. There were two other tents there, but
• 35:31
  Speaker 2: I didn't interact much with the other campers, just exchanged
• 35:34
  Speaker 2: polite nods. That night around 2 a.m., I woke up
• 35:38
  Speaker 2: to the sound of screaming. Not human screaming, animal screaming.
• 35:42
  Speaker 2: It sounded like a rabbit being killed by a predator,
• 35:44
  Speaker 2: high-pitched and terrified. As a vet, I'd heard that sound before,
• 35:48
  Speaker 2: but this was prolonged, going on for almost a full minute.
• 35:52
  Speaker 2: Then it stopped abruptly and I heard something else. Movement
• 35:57
  Speaker 2: around the campsite, but not like any animal I knew.
• 36:00
  Speaker 2: It was a scraping, dragging sound, like something pulling itself
• 36:04
  Speaker 2: across the ground. I grabbed my flashlight and looked out
• 36:07
  Speaker 2: through the mesh of my tent. What I saw made
• 36:10
  Speaker 2: no sense. There were three of them, moving through the
• 36:13
  Speaker 2: campsite on all fours, but they weren't animals. They were humanoid, naked.
• 36:19
  Speaker 2: with pale skin that was almost luminescent in the darkness.
• 36:23
  Speaker 2: Their limbs were too long, especially their arms, and they
• 36:26
  Speaker 2: moved in this disturbing jerky way, like insects almost. They
• 36:31
  Speaker 2: were rummaging through the other camper's gear, their heads turning
• 36:34
  Speaker 2: in sharp, bird-like movements. I couldn't see their faces clearly
• 36:38
  Speaker 2: from where I was, but I could see they had hair,
• 36:42
  Speaker 2: long and stringy, hanging down. I watched.
• 36:45
  Speaker 1: I watched.
• 36:46
  Speaker 2: Frozen as one of them found a food bag that
• 36:48
  Speaker 2: hadn't been hung properly. It tore into it with its hands,
• 36:52
  Speaker 2: which I now saw had extremely long fingers, almost twice
• 36:56
  Speaker 2: the length of normal human fingers. It stuffed food into
• 36:59
  Speaker 2: its mouth, eating frantically. The other two were doing the
• 37:02
  Speaker 2: same at the other campsite. None of them made any
• 37:05
  Speaker 2: sound except for the scraping of their bodies against the
• 37:08
  Speaker 2: ground and the tearing of packaging. Then one of them
• 37:11
  Speaker 2: stopped and turned its head directly toward my tent. I
• 37:15
  Speaker 2: still couldn't see its face, but I knew it was
• 37:17
  Speaker 2: looking at me. It started moving toward me. That same jerky,
• 37:21
  Speaker 2: insect-like crawl, arms and legs moving in an unnatural rhythm.
• 37:26
  Speaker 2: My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
• 37:29
  Speaker 2: I switched off my flashlight and pressed myself against the
• 37:31
  Speaker 2: far side of my tent, as if that would help.
• 37:34
  Speaker 2: I heard it right outside my tent, heard its breathing,
• 37:36
  Speaker 2: wet and raspy. Then I heard sniffing, like it was
• 37:39
  Speaker 2: smelling me through the fabric. For what felt like hours,
• 37:43
  Speaker 2: but was probably only a minute, It stayed there.
• 37:46
  Speaker 1: Then I heard one of the other campers shout, Hey!
• 37:49
  Speaker 1: What the hell? The thing outside my tent retreated quickly.
• 37:54
  Speaker 2: I heard all three of them moving away, that scraping
• 37:57
  Speaker 2: sound fading into the forest. I didn't come out of
• 38:00
  Speaker 2: my tent until full daylight. When I did, the other
• 38:02
  Speaker 2: two campers were already up, examining their destroyed campsites. Food
• 38:07
  Speaker 2: wrappers everywhere, packs torn open, gear scattered.
• 38:11
  Speaker 1: Did you see them? One of them asked me, a
• 38:13
  Speaker 1: woman in her 40s. Yeah, I said quietly. What were they?
• 38:19
  Speaker 1: I don't know, she said, and she looked genuinely terrified.
• 38:22
  Speaker 1: I saw one up close when I shouted. Its face,
• 38:25
  Speaker 1: it didn't have a nose, just slits.
• 38:28
  Speaker 2: And its eyes were huge, black, like a shark's eyes.
• 38:31
  Speaker 2: When it smiled at me, it had teeth like needles.
• 38:34
  Speaker 2: Rows and rows of them. The other camper, a young guy,
• 38:37
  Speaker 2: maybe 25, was packing up his gear with shaking hands.
• 38:41
  Speaker 1: I'm done.
• 38:42
  Speaker 2: I'm getting off this trail right now.
• 38:44
  Speaker 1: We all agreed. The three of us hiked out together,
• 38:47
  Speaker 1: not even stopping for breakfast.
• 38:50
  Speaker 2: At the trailhead, we reported what we'd seen to a
• 38:52
  Speaker 2: forest service ranger. He listened to our story with an
• 38:56
  Speaker 2: expression I couldn't quite read. When we finished, he sighed.
• 39:00
  Speaker 1: You're not the first people to report seeing those things,
• 39:03
  Speaker 1: he said. We call them the crawlers.
• 39:05
  Speaker 2: There have been sightings up and down the AT for
• 39:07
  Speaker 2: the past few years, mostly at night, mostly at campsites.
• 39:12
  Speaker 1: What are they, I asked. He shrugged. Nobody knows.
• 39:16
  Speaker 2: Some kind of primate, maybe, or people with some kind
• 39:18
  Speaker 2: of condition. We've had teams try to track them, set
• 39:22
  Speaker 2: up cameras, but we've never caught one or gotten clear footage.
• 39:25
  Speaker 1: What do they want? The other woman asked. Food, mostly.
• 39:30
  Speaker 2: The ranger said. They seem to scavenge from campsites. We
• 39:33
  Speaker 2: haven't had any reports of them attacking people, but we
• 39:36
  Speaker 2: advise campers to hang their food properly and keep their
• 39:39
  Speaker 2: distance if they see one. That wasn't good enough for me.
• 39:42
  Speaker 2: I never went back to that section of trail. In fact,
• 39:46
  Speaker 2: I haven't done any overnight camping on the AT since then.
• 39:49
  Speaker 2: I've done research, found online forums where people discuss similar sightings.
• 39:54
  Speaker 2: Some people think they're feral humans, people who've lived in
• 39:57
  Speaker 2: the wilderness so long they've devolved. Others think they're something
• 40:01
  Speaker 2: else entirely, maybe even extraterrestrial. I don't know what they are,
• 40:06
  Speaker 2: but I know what I saw, and I know they
• 40:08
  Speaker 2: were something that shouldn't exist.
• 40:11
  Speaker 1: The way they moved, the way they looked, it was
• 40:14
  Speaker 1: all wrong.
• 40:15
  Speaker 2: And the thought that they're still out there, crawling through
• 40:18
  Speaker 2: campsites at night, Makes my skin crawl. If you're planning
• 40:22
  Speaker 2: to hike the AT, especially in the North Carolina section,
• 40:26
  Speaker 2: hang your food. Keep a light on at night. And
• 40:29
  Speaker 2: if you hear that scraping sound, stay in your tent
• 40:32
  Speaker 2: and pray they pass you by.
• 40:34
  Speaker 1: Story nine.
• 40:36
  Speaker 2: I teach high school history in Maryland and I like
• 40:38
  Speaker 2: to spend my summers hiking. It keeps me in shape
• 40:41
  Speaker 2: and gives me time to think about the lesson plans
• 40:44
  Speaker 2: for the upcoming year. In July 2018, I was doing
• 40:48
  Speaker 2: a week-long solo hike on the AT through Pennsylvania.
• 40:51
  Speaker 1: Pennsylvania is known.
• 40:52
  Speaker 2: For its rocky terrain, so I was prepared for difficult hiking.
• 40:56
  Speaker 1: What I wasn't prepared for was what I found on
• 40:58
  Speaker 1: day four.
• 40:59
  Speaker 2: I was about 15 miles into that day's hike, in
• 41:02
  Speaker 2: a section of trail that was particularly isolated.
• 41:05
  Speaker 1: I hadn't seen another hiker in hours.
• 41:07
  Speaker 2: The trail wound through dense forest, and I was moving
• 41:10
  Speaker 2: at a good pace despite the rocks. That's when I
• 41:13
  Speaker 2: saw them, a set of stairs right in the middle
• 41:16
  Speaker 2: of the forest, about 20 feet off the trail.
• 41:19
  Speaker 1: They weren't old wooden steps or natural rock formations.
• 41:23
  Speaker 2: These were carpeted stairs, the kind you'd find in a house,
• 41:26
  Speaker 2: leading up into nothing. Maybe 12 or 15 steps total,
• 41:31
  Speaker 2: complete with wooden railings and burgundy carpet.
• 41:34
  Speaker 1: I stopped and stared. It made no sense.
• 41:36
  Speaker 2: There was no building, no foundation, no structure of any kind.
• 41:40
  Speaker 2: Just stairs, standing in the middle of the forest, leading
• 41:43
  Speaker 2: up to empty air.
• 41:44
  Speaker 1: My first thought was.
• 41:45
  Speaker 2: That it must be some kind of art installation or
• 41:48
  Speaker 2: a weird trail marker. But when I approached it, I
• 41:51
  Speaker 2: saw that it was old. The wood was weathered, the
• 41:53
  Speaker 2: carpet was moldy and rotting, but the stairs themselves were
• 41:57
  Speaker 2: structurally sound, firmly planted in the ground. I walked around them,
• 42:02
  Speaker 2: looking for any explanation. There was no sign of a
• 42:05
  Speaker 2: building having ever been there. No debris, no foundation stones.
• 42:10
  Speaker 1: Just stairs.
• 42:11
  Speaker 2: I'm a rational person, a history teacher. I deal in
• 42:14
  Speaker 2: facts and evidence. But standing there, looking at those stairs,
• 42:18
  Speaker 2: I felt deeply unsettled. Something about them felt wrong, like
• 42:22
  Speaker 2: they didn't belong in this reality. I took out my
• 42:25
  Speaker 2: phone to take a picture, but my battery was dead,
• 42:28
  Speaker 2: even though it had been at 60% charge just 20
• 42:30
  Speaker 2: minutes earlier. I tried my camera, a separate device I
• 42:34
  Speaker 2: carried for trail photos, and it wouldn't turn on either.
• 42:37
  Speaker 2: That's when I heard footsteps on the stairs. There was
• 42:40
  Speaker 2: nobody there, but I clearly heard footsteps like someone walking
• 42:44
  Speaker 2: up the stairs.
• 42:45
  Speaker 1: The old wood creaked with each step.
• 42:48
  Speaker 2: I watched as invisible feet compressed the moldy carpet, leaving
• 42:51
  Speaker 2: temporary impressions that faded as whatever it was moved to
• 42:55
  Speaker 2: the next step. I backed away slowly, not taking my
• 42:58
  Speaker 2: eyes off the stairs. The footsteps reached the top and stopped.
• 43:02
  Speaker 2: Then I heard a door open. The distinct sound of
• 43:05
  Speaker 2: a door handle turning and hinges creaking, even though there
• 43:08
  Speaker 2: was no door.
• 43:09
  Speaker 1: A voice spoke. A woman's voice, faint and distant, like
• 43:13
  Speaker 1: it was coming from very far away. Come upstairs, Thomas.
• 43:16
  Speaker 1: We've been waiting. It knew my name. Just like in
• 43:20
  Speaker 1: Robert's story from earlier, somehow it knew who I was.
• 43:24
  Speaker 1: I ran. I don't think I've ever run that fast
• 43:27
  Speaker 1: in my life.
• 43:28
  Speaker 2: I followed the trail for probably two miles before I
• 43:30
  Speaker 2: felt safe enough to stop. When I finally did stop,
• 43:33
  Speaker 2: gasping for breath, I checked my phone. It was working again.
• 43:37
  Speaker 2: Battery at 58%.
• 43:37
  Speaker 1: My camera worked, too.
• 43:40
  Speaker 2: I tried to retrace my steps to find those stairs
• 43:42
  Speaker 2: again and document them, but I couldn't find them. I
• 43:46
  Speaker 2: spent an hour searching that section of forest, but the
• 43:49
  Speaker 2: stairs were gone. That night at a shelter, I met
• 43:52
  Speaker 2: a thru-hiker named Danny, who'd been on the trail for
• 43:55
  Speaker 2: three months. I casually mentioned finding strange stairs in the woods.
• 44:00
  Speaker 2: His expression changed immediately. You saw the stairs?
• 44:05
  Speaker 1: Yeah, I said. You know about them?
• 44:07
  Speaker 2: He pulled out a worn notebook and showed me sketches
• 44:10
  Speaker 2: he'd made. Stairs, different styles, different locations, all along the AT.
• 44:15
  Speaker 2: He documented 17 different sets of stairs over his three-month hike.
• 44:20
  Speaker 1: They're everywhere, he said. Different types, different conditions.
• 44:24
  Speaker 2: Sometimes they're there, sometimes they're not. I've gone back to
• 44:28
  Speaker 2: places where I've seen them and they're gone. Other hikers
• 44:31
  Speaker 2: have reported the same thing.
• 44:33
  Speaker 1: What are they, I asked.
• 44:35
  Speaker 2: Danny shook his head. Nobody knows, but here's the thing.
• 44:39
  Speaker 2: Every person I've talked to who's actually climbed the stairs,
• 44:41
  Speaker 2: they've disappeared. Never seen again. What do you mean disappeared?
• 44:47
  Speaker 2: I mean gone, he said. There was a woman last month.
• 44:50
  Speaker 2: Told me she was going to climb a set of
• 44:51
  Speaker 2: stairs she'd found, see where they led. She posted about
• 44:54
  Speaker 2: it in a hiking forum. Never heard from again. Her
• 44:57
  Speaker 2: car was still at the trailhead.
• 44:59
  Speaker 1: Her gear was gone, but she vanished. I felt cold.
• 45:03
  Speaker 2: The stairs I found, I heard a voice telling me
• 45:04
  Speaker 2: to come upstairs. Danny's eyes widened. You didn't climb them,
• 45:08
  Speaker 2: did you?
• 45:10
  Speaker 1: No, I said, I ran. He looked relieved.
• 45:13
  Speaker 2: Good, I think those stairs are doorways or portals or something.
• 45:17
  Speaker 2: Doorways is somewhere we're not meant to go. And whatever's
• 45:20
  Speaker 2: on the other side, it wants people to climb up.
• 45:23
  Speaker 2: I finished my hike, but I never forgot about those stairs.
• 45:26
  Speaker 2: I've done research since then, found dozens of reports from
• 45:28
  Speaker 2: forest service workers, hikers, and hunters who've encountered random stairs
• 45:33
  Speaker 2: in forests across America. particularly in national parks and along
• 45:37
  Speaker 2: the AT. Some people think they're remnants of old buildings,
• 45:41
  Speaker 2: but that doesn't explain why there's never any other evidence
• 45:44
  Speaker 2: of structures. Others think they're supernatural, portals to other dimensions
• 45:48
  Speaker 2: or worlds. The Park Service doesn't officially acknowledge them, but
• 45:53
  Speaker 2: some rangers will tell you off the record that they
• 45:55
  Speaker 2: know about the stairs and they advise people never to
• 45:58
  Speaker 2: climb them. I don't know what those stairs are or
• 46:01
  Speaker 2: where they lead. but I know that whatever called my
• 46:04
  Speaker 2: name from the top of those stairs knew who I was,
• 46:07
  Speaker 2: and I'm grateful every day that I didn't climb up
• 46:10
  Speaker 2: to find out what was waiting for me. If you
• 46:12
  Speaker 2: ever see stairs in the middle of the forest, do
• 46:15
  Speaker 2: yourself a favor.
• 46:17
  Speaker 1: Don't climb them.
• 46:18
  Speaker 2: Whatever's at the top isn't worth finding out about. Before
• 46:21
  Speaker 2: I share the final story, I want to remind you
• 46:23
  Speaker 2: one more time. If these stories are giving you chills,
• 46:26
  Speaker 2: if you're enjoying this content, please subscribe to Park Ranger Files.
• 46:30
  Speaker 2: I'm trying to reach 1,000 subscribers before my birthday next month,
• 46:33
  Speaker 2: and I'm so close.
• 46:35
  Speaker 1: Your subscription means everything to me. Hit that like button.
• 46:38
  Speaker 2: Leave a comment about your own experiences or which story
• 46:41
  Speaker 2: scared you the most, and share this video with anyone
• 46:44
  Speaker 2: who loves wilderness horror. Now, let's get to our final story.
• 46:49
  Speaker 2: Story 10. This is the hardest story for me to
• 46:52
  Speaker 2: tell because, unlike the others, this one didn't end when
• 46:56
  Speaker 2: I left the trail. I'm a graphic designer from Charleston,
• 47:00
  Speaker 2: In April 2021, I decided to do a five-day solo hike.
• 47:03
  Speaker 1: On the AT in Virginia.
• 47:05
  Speaker 2: I'd been dealing with a lot of stress at work
• 47:07
  Speaker 2: and thought some time alone in nature would help. The
• 47:10
  Speaker 2: hike started off wonderful. Spring in the mountains is beautiful,
• 47:14
  Speaker 2: everything blooming and green. I felt my stress melting away
• 47:18
  Speaker 2: with every mile. For the first three days, everything was perfect.
• 47:22
  Speaker 2: On the fourth day, I was hiking through a particularly
• 47:25
  Speaker 2: isolated section when I got the distinct feeling I was
• 47:27
  Speaker 2: being watched. You know that prickly sensation on the back
• 47:31
  Speaker 2: of your neck? That was constant for about two hours.
• 47:34
  Speaker 2: I kept turning around, expecting to see another hiker or
• 47:37
  Speaker 2: an animal, but there was never anything there. Still, the
• 47:40
  Speaker 2: feeling persisted. That night, I camped alone near a small creek.
• 47:44
  Speaker 2: I was filtering water when I saw something move in
• 47:47
  Speaker 2: my peripheral vision. When I turned to look, I saw
• 47:50
  Speaker 2: a figure standing in the trees about 40 yards away.
• 47:53
  Speaker 2: It was humanoid, but wrong. Too thin, limbs too long.
• 47:57
  Speaker 2: and it stood completely still in a way that no
• 47:59
  Speaker 2: human could. I couldn't make out any facial features because
• 48:02
  Speaker 2: of the distance and the shadows.
• 48:04
  Speaker 1: But I could feel it staring at me. Hello? I
• 48:07
  Speaker 1: called out.
• 48:09
  Speaker 2: It didn't respond, didn't move, just stood there. I quickly
• 48:13
  Speaker 2: gathered my water and retreated to my tent. I sat
• 48:15
  Speaker 2: inside with my knife in hand listening. After about an
• 48:18
  Speaker 2: hour of silence, I convinced myself I'd imagined it or
• 48:21
  Speaker 2: seen a tree that looked human-shaped in the fading light.
• 48:25
  Speaker 2: But that night, I woke up to scratching sounds on
• 48:27
  Speaker 2: my tent. Long, slow scratches, like fingernails dragging across the fabric.
• 48:33
  Speaker 2: I lay there, paralyzed with fear, as whatever it was circled.
• 48:36
  Speaker 1: My tent, scratching continuously. This went on until dawn.
• 48:41
  Speaker 2: When I finally emerged, exhausted and terrified, there were no
• 48:45
  Speaker 2: marks on my tent, no scratches, no evidence that anything
• 48:47
  Speaker 2: had touched it.
• 48:49
  Speaker 1: But I knew what I'd heard.
• 48:50
  Speaker 2: I packed up and hiked out that morning, cutting my
• 48:52
  Speaker 2: trip short by a day, the whole way to the trailhead,
• 48:56
  Speaker 2: I felt like I was being followed, but every time
• 48:58
  Speaker 2: I turned around, there was nothing there. I got home
• 49:01
  Speaker 2: that evening, relieved to be in my apartment, safe in
• 49:03
  Speaker 2: the city. I took a long shower, made dinner, and
• 49:07
  Speaker 2: tried to convince myself that I'd just spooked myself, that
• 49:10
  Speaker 2: isolation and fear had made me imagine things.
• 49:13
  Speaker 1: But that night, I heard the scratching again.
• 49:16
  Speaker 2: I was in my bed in my third-floor apartment in
• 49:18
  Speaker 2: the middle of Charleston, and I heard the same scratching
• 49:21
  Speaker 2: sound on my bedroom window. Long, slow scratches, deliberate and methodical.
• 49:26
  Speaker 2: I looked at the window and saw a shadow outside.
• 49:29
  Speaker 2: Even though there's no fire escape, no ledge, nothing that
• 49:32
  Speaker 2: should allow anything to be outside my third-floor window. The
• 49:36
  Speaker 2: scratching continued. I grabbed my phone and called 911. But
• 49:40
  Speaker 2: by the time I explained the situation and they sent
• 49:42
  Speaker 2: a car, the scratching had stopped and the shadow was gone.
• 49:46
  Speaker 2: The police found nothing, no evidence of anyone having been
• 49:49
  Speaker 2: outside my window. This has been happening for almost three
• 49:53
  Speaker 2: years now, not every night, but randomly. Sometimes I'll go
• 49:56
  Speaker 2: weeks without hearing it, then it'll start up again. Always
• 50:00
  Speaker 2: the same scratching, always at night, always on a window
• 50:03
  Speaker 2: or door. I've moved twice since then, once to a
• 50:06
  Speaker 2: different apartment and then to a house. It doesn't matter.
• 50:10
  Speaker 2: The scratching follows me. I've had my places blessed by priests,
• 50:14
  Speaker 2: burned sage, tried everything anyone has suggested.
• 50:17
  Speaker 1: Nothing stops it.
• 50:19
  Speaker 2: I've set up cameras, but they never capture anything except
• 50:22
  Speaker 2: shadows that shouldn't be there. Whatever I encountered on that trail,
• 50:25
  Speaker 2: whatever was watching me from the trees, I think I
• 50:27
  Speaker 2: brought it home with me somehow. It attached itself to me,
• 50:30
  Speaker 2: and now it won't let go. I've talked to paranormal investigators, demonologists,
• 50:35
  Speaker 2: everyone I can think of. Most of them say it
• 50:38
  Speaker 2: sounds like an attachment, something that latched onto me in
• 50:41
  Speaker 2: a moment of vulnerability or fear. But no one has
• 50:44
  Speaker 2: been able to help me get rid of it. The
• 50:47
  Speaker 2: worst part is that the scratching is getting more aggressive.
• 50:51
  Speaker 2: At first it was just on windows. Now it scratches
• 50:54
  Speaker 2: on my walls inside my house. Last week I woke
• 50:57
  Speaker 2: up to scratching sounds right next to my bed, so
• 50:59
  Speaker 2: close I could have reached out and touched whatever was
• 51:02
  Speaker 2: making them. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm
• 51:05
  Speaker 2: terrified to sleep, terrified to be alone. I've considered moving
• 51:09
  Speaker 2: across the country, but I don't think the distance matters.
• 51:13
  Speaker 2: This thing has followed me everywhere else. Why would a
• 51:15
  Speaker 2: few thousand miles stop it? I'm telling this story as
• 51:18
  Speaker 2: a warning. Be careful what you encounter in those mountains.
• 51:22
  Speaker 2: Some things don't stay in the wilderness. Some things follow
• 51:25
  Speaker 2: you home. Once they do, you might never be free
• 51:27
  Speaker 2: of them. If anyone listening has any advice or has
• 51:31
  Speaker 2: dealt with something similar, please reach out.
• 51:33
  Speaker 1: I'm desperate. I just want my life back. I just
• 51:36
  Speaker 1: want to sleep without hearing those scratches.
• 51:39
  Speaker 2: The Appalachian Trail is beautiful, but it's also ancient and wild,
• 51:42
  Speaker 2: and there are things in those mountains that we don't understand,
• 51:45
  Speaker 2: things that might look at you and decide you're coming
• 51:48
  Speaker 2: home with them, whether you want to or not. I
• 51:50
  Speaker 2: haven't been hiking since that trip. I probably never will again.
• 51:54
  Speaker 2: The thought of going back into those woods terrifies me,
• 51:57
  Speaker 2: not because of what I might find there, but because
• 52:00
  Speaker 2: of what else I might bring back. Those were ten
• 52:03
  Speaker 2: true accounts from people who encountered something unexplainable on or
• 52:07
  Speaker 2: near the Appalachian Trail. Ten different people and ten different experiences,
• 52:14
  Speaker 2: but all of them united by one thing. The knowledge
• 52:17
  Speaker 2: that there are things in those mountains that don't fit
• 52:20
  Speaker 2: into our understanding of the natural world.
• 52:23
  Speaker 1: Are these stories proof of the supernatural? Of cryptids? Of
• 52:27
  Speaker 1: parallel dimensions bleeding into ours?
• 52:30
  Speaker 2: I can't say for certain, but I know that every
• 52:33
  Speaker 2: single person who shared their story believed what they experienced
• 52:37
  Speaker 2: was real.
• 52:38
  Speaker 1: And that's worth paying attention to. Before you go, I
• 52:41
  Speaker 1: need your help.
• 52:43
  Speaker 2: I'm trying to reach 1,000 subscribers before my birthday next month,
• 52:46
  Speaker 2: and I'm so close I can taste it.
• 52:48
  Speaker 1: If you enjoyed these stories, if they.
• 52:50
  Speaker 2: Gave you chills, if they made you think twice about
• 52:53
  Speaker 2: your next hiking trip, please hit that subscribe button. It's free,
• 52:57
  Speaker 2: it takes two seconds, and it helps this channel grow
• 52:59
  Speaker 2: so I can bring you more content like this. Leave
• 53:02
  Speaker 2: a comment telling me which story scared you the most.
• 53:05
  Speaker 2: Was it the follower? The voices in Shenandoah? the stairs
• 53:09
  Speaker 2: that lead to nowhere, I want to know what resonates
• 53:12
  Speaker 2: with you. And if you have your own experience to share,
• 53:16
  Speaker 2: please tell me about it in the comments or send
• 53:17
  Speaker 2: me a message.
• 53:19
  Speaker 1: Your story could be featured in a future video.
• 53:22
  Speaker 2: Share this video with your friends, especially those who love hiking, camping,
• 53:25
  Speaker 2: or horror stories. Help me build this community of people
• 53:29
  Speaker 2: who appreciate these tales from the wilderness. Thank you for
• 53:33
  Speaker 2: listening to Park Ranger Files. Remember, the mountains are beautiful,
• 53:38
  Speaker 2: but They're also ancient and wild.
• 53:41
  Speaker 1: Respect them. Prepare properly.
• 53:43
  Speaker 2: Never hike alone if you can help it, and always
• 53:46
  Speaker 2: trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it probably is.
• 53:50
  Speaker 2: Stay safe out there. And remember, not all who wander
• 53:53
  Speaker 2: are lost, but some who wander find things they wish
• 53:57
  Speaker 2: they hadn't. Until next time, this is Park Ranger Files,
• 54:02
  Speaker 2: signing off.