This happened a year ago on a camping trip with my dad in late July early August.
I am a marine stationed in the United States. Me and several friends decided to go camping at a local Indian reservation camp ground for a three days to get away from the base and relax. We drove about 2 hours to this place and were greeted by very friendly native Americans.
One of them walked up to us and right away we noticed the man had an eye patch on his left eye. He asked if we were military and we said yes. He told us that he was in the army during Vietnam. After short conversation with him we proceeded and found a camping spot a little off the side of the road.
Only way to get up the step hill was with 4 wheel drive which we had.
So, this happened about a year ago, and I only witnessed about a portion of what occurred. The rest is from accounts by my friends. The asinine and illegal things we did in this story, I will not take accountability for. God, I love anonymity. Anyway, we’re a bunch of college students that have always had an affinity for road-trips. I like to think it’s a mode of escapism. As college goes, our bank accounts stopped accommodating trips around the east coast, so we took up camping instead. My best friend owns this land a few hours east of Scranton, Pennsylvania. We all elected to take this big camping trip by the end of the summer, and spent it preparing. We divided ourselves into two cars, split tents, food, drinks, ect among us. As we neared the spot, our GPS went out, so we relied on physical maps we brought with us. After an hour, we arrived at the site just about at dusk. We all unloaded our stuff, set up our tents, and built a nice bonfire: we delegated bonfire duty to one person and by God, he kept it lit the whole stay. The first night was fun. I got over the creepy ambiance of being in the middle of nowhere after 5 or 6 beers. We exchanged stories, pranked each other, and went to sleep. The second day, a group of my friends decided they were going to make the two hour drive to some hick town in order to get more firewood and snacks. I was in the group that stayed behind. According to them, they got lost in the morning fog, and ended up at the local store sometime after sunrise. After purchasing their stuff, they encountered a raggedy old man in the parking lot. Archetypal hillbilly: as hick as you can get on the eastern seaboard. He asks for a cigarette, they oblige, and then begins to berate them with questions. Stuff like, “What’s your name,” “Where are you from,” “What’re you doing here?” To the latter question, he is very interested. He asks where we’re camping and if he can stop by. They laugh it off, but he continues pushing. He says he’ll “hang out” with us, and doesn’t drop the subject, even as they’re reentering the car. By this point, they’re all too high to notice the guy hopping into his beaten-up, white pickup. In fact, they don’t think they’re being followed until they leave the paved roads and see him follow them onto the dirt trails leading back to the campsite. I attribute this to the drugs they were on, but they kept going back to the campsite. They said that they had no room to turn around and nowhere to go, but hey. Leading this guy back wasn’t good. Anyway, this whole time, I’m sitting at the fire, smoking, and have no idea what’s going on because of the absence of cell service. So, I see them rush back, hours late, and I say, “Where are the snacks, man? C’mon, where’s my breakfast?” They make a jumbled recounting of this guy that followed them miles back. At first, I think it’s another prank, but the fear plastered on their faces is palpable. They say he parked the car about forty feet behind theirs and watched them get out. I get the rest of us together, and we all decide to confront this guy. So, it turns out, he was coming first. We’re walking the twenty minute walk to the cars, and we see this dirty, old man in the clearing: holding a hunting rifle. We weren’t going to try and make a break for it or see what the guy wanted, so we decided to loop back around to the camp, and then try and make a wide arc to avoid him. So, we get back to the camp in half the time it took us to walk to the clearing and begin frantically packing our essentials in a high stupor. As we’re about to turn around and go, my friend points at that the bonfire is giving off a lot of smoke on account of all the leaves we used for kindling. So, it’s assumed that the guy can figure out exactly where we are. We stop our packing process immediately, and dip into the trees, running with reckless abandon to cover as much ground as possible. As we’re reaching the car, we hear gunshots in the direction of the camp. We get into our cars and floor it out of there. We reach a police station in the same town after making the same 2 hour drive to that town. We submit our report, even though we were clearly under the influence. They hold us at the station and send a car out to investigate. We’re sitting around, freaking out – more over the consequences of going to the cops high than the maniac, honestly. It’s late in the afternoon before the car returns and tell us what they found. The tents were both torn down and had shell casings and bullet holes in them. Aside from the food wrappers, they said barely anything was left behind. From our own accounting, the guy took our weed, our keg of beer, but also my friend’s wallet. We tell the police the latter, and he says they’ll continue to search around, but they didn’t find any cars around. We end up going home early, and my friend cancels his debit, gets a new ID, and we all haven’t heard anything since. Of course, the knowledge is still haunting that this psychopath knows who he is and, roughly, where he lives. I’m sure nothing will come of it. Nothing has, and it’s been a year. But I have no idea what this guy’s intentions with us were. What if he did catch us out there in the woods? What would he have done? We haven’t been back to that camping site since, but we do plan on returning this summer. It’s June, we’re going back in August: no drugs this time. We’re going to see what came of this, if the case is even still open. Regardless, I’ll update this as soon as we do.
It was a random weekend in 2016. Two of my friends and I decided to go camping. We were all 16-17 at the time. I’m from a small town in Iowa so there’s really not much to do. So, camping was our best option to have some fun without our parents.
We got to the campsite around [3:00] in the afternoon and we were all set up by [3:30] or 4:00 pm.
A little background about this place there’s a pretty decent sized body of water and then it’s surrounded by 60 feet of rock around the whole thing. When you climb the rock on the over side of the trail there is a wooded area it’s actually really pretty and a lot of young couples would go up to the top of the cliff and do their thing because it was “romantic” up there. it was a popular place to go but this weekend there wasn’t as many people as normal.
I was at a camp out with my youth group once, and we sat around a campfire and some of the others told scary stories. I remember one, but I don’t recall it word for word. But I do remember the basic idea.
Went something like this…..
A young boy was given the task to house sit for a couple who were going away on their honey moon. He had nothing better to do in his spare time, as it was in the Summer, and he didn’t have many friends to hang out with, or things to do.
Hey, its me again, the woodsman, i saw that darkness is looking for campfire stories so guess i could share the story that keeps me from camping out in my woods anymore. This is one of many, many odd things that has happened on this property of mine. I really didn’t realize what i was getting into when i bought this new house in the middle of the woods.
But hey, I’m surviving i guess.
By the time that the events in this story took place, i had already experienced quite a few things on this property. And this was easily the third freakiest thing to happen up to that point, right behind the naked stab victim that cried like a newborn baby and cartwheeled our into the woods, but that’s another tale.
I’m going to start by saying that I’m not exactly sure what me and a few friends experienced fully, but there was definitely something strange with us that night. This story takes place in Fall of 2017 and I was 16. Me and a few friends went to a cabin campout with our Boy Scout Troop. The first night we got there it was the normal routine of unpacking and setting up our things, making sure you set up near one of the power outlets which me and a friend got and shared one of the two in the room. The next morning was fairly normal. Hanging out, talking, playing card games and on the GameCube someone brought with and we played via a projector we brought with.
By the time lunch came around we were out of the water we brought with so I and a few others were tasked with walking approximately a mile maybe a little less to a water pump to fill up the three 5 gallon jugs we had. Now me, being the biggest one out of the group that was sent carried them but I knew that there was no possible way I could carry these things all that back. One sure but physically impossible to do all three or two for that matter. So we looked for something to help us on the way and found a sort of cart by some wooden building on the path there. It had two big wheels, a wooden body and a bar that stuck out the front enough for me to fit in it and push it with the box like thing behind me to pull the water jugs. (It looked like the one I shared in the picture but a little longer and more worn down). We used this and filled up the water which took longer than it should have due to the other kids messing around with the pump. The pump was in front of a shower house with a lone light and near a lake (this will be relevant later). So after that we used this cart to bring the heavy jugs back and went on with our day.
Well by the time might cane around they needed to be filled AGAIN and of course instead of waking up early when it was light, my friend and I were sent to go. So I threw on my coat and some gloves to go out since it was cold and we each took a flashlight. We started walking, me with the cart again to make it easy on us. From the moment I stepped out the door I had the sketchiest feeling ever about being out there. I couldn’t describe it. Like the feeling of being watched and that you know something is going to happen. I tried to calm myself but I kept hearing noises in the distance and seeing movement out of the corners of my eyes.
Before I start talking about the event that happened, there might be many sceptics that do not believe me and I do not care, this is a warning and a story. Another disclaimer before I begin is that I am not very good at storytelling but I’ll try my best here. And the other thing is that I am a Muslim in the UK, this means that I believe in another creation by Allah (God), so this is my thought on what happened to me:
My wife and I were going to Lake District with 8 other friends. This was not the first time that I have gone and it is the last time that I will ever go to Lake District- for those of you who do not know what Lake District is, it is a beautiful area in Scotland that is all mountains, caves and lake. My group consisting of my wife and I and my 8 companions have successfully arrived at Lake District with no difficulty.
As we all settled we were fine and two of my friends (I will be calling them Raj and Ahmad for privacy reasons, and these two people have a huge part in what happen) and I went to the kitchen, as we were the designated cooks for the trip. In the kitchen, everything was fine and neat except there was one of those stereotypical knives that butchers are shown with left on the counter top. We did not say much as we just thought someone went to the kitchen before us and misplaced the knife, so we left the knife as we saw it. After an hour of settling in, we decided to go out on a 2-hour hike.
So me and my girlfriend were gonna go on a camping trip in a local forest near us.
We freed up our schedules just for this trip.
We had gotten all packed up and ready to go hiking in the woods for 3 days.
We drove for about 30 minutes to get to where we would start hiking.
When we arrived it was about 5 o clock at night and the sun was just starting to set so we didnt go very far until we set up a campsite.
My uncles bad camping experience
In the summer of 1978, My uncle was 16 years of age my grandparents had sent him to a church champ. when he arrived at the camp he felt like someone was always watching him.
The camp had a very creepy vibe to it.It was a low budget camp so everything was either broken or old.
He was roommates with a kid named James who was the same age as him. The first night my uncle could not sleep. He made a dumb decision and decided to go for a walk. He had a small flashlight that was giving to him if he needed to use the bathroom at night.