Creepy experiences in the backcountry

[RockAndSage]

I observed a visual anomaly in my thermal spotter that gave me the creeps.

I know it wasn't real but since the experience I find my thoughts turning to what it would be like to encounter an entity that is never seen but once you see it it starts interacting with you.

It got me thinking about a realm I call "Thermal World".

There is no moon in thermal world. It's too far away to show a heat signature.

There are no reptiles in thermal world. They are the same temperature as their surroundings.

And so on.

The glitch got my mind turning about other things that are a little off in...Thermal World.

Can you describe exactly what you saw with the anomaly?

 

[bigbassin]

View attachment 754467Not so much “scary” but this was definitely an interesting find in an out of the way area. Thought someone was actually buried underneath until I read it

Not creepy at all, but one of the sadder gravestones I’ve found was just in the middle of nowhere Tennessee. 1 mom and 3 kids under 7 from the 1800s from within a few days of each other. They probably got something that would be no factor today, but couldn’t be treated back then if I had to guess.

We were 15-20 miles from the closest existing town. Maybe they had an old homestead along the creek or were just trying to travel through the mountains.

 

[bigbassin]

I believe both of these are made up for print.

Story 1: No outdoorsman is leaving his/her only firearm in the truck while they sleep in a tent.

If you’re that guy…stay home. You have no business “possessing” a weapon or being alone in nature.

Story 2: Who in their right mind would leave a spot to report moldy leftovers to the cops?! If one did feel the urge to do so, why would you return to the same spot??


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

I’d agree. In the case of No. 1 if I’m firearm drawn scared I promise you I’m getting to my truck and driving off, not just sleeping in the camper top.

 

[ScreamingPotato]

I've been enjoying this thread off and on for a while so I guess I should offer up some stories. I have quite a few more creepy ghost stuff from when I was a kid but I'll start with a couple more recently.

We hunt on the Texas/Mexico border, been hunting there for over 20 years at this point. I hunt solo quite a bit and always love the experience and I tend to camp way out in the middle of nowhere because I have sleep issues and any change in noise patterns wakes me up, once I'm awake it's hours before I get back to sleep. Anyhow truck camping solo I setup my big tent with cot, luxury spacious area. It's dead calm zero wind and absolutely quiet you could hear a pin drop. I awake to the sound of footsteps, they're pretty far away but I can tell they're footsteps of a two-legged critter. I'm on my cot zipped up in a sleeping bag and trying to figure out if I'm awake or dreaming. Footsteps are slow but they're getting closer. I realize I'm awake and come to realize something's up. Footsteps are right behind the tent at this point, sneaking slowly and I'm trying to figure out how to handle things but it's so dead calm even moving in my sleeping bag would tip off this person. I can tell it's only one person so that's good. I've got my 10mm and my Fenix ready but we're talking a couple feet from the tent. At this point there's probably 2-3 minutes with zero movement zero sound, it was an eternity really. I start hearing the steps move slowly again towards my truck then I hear the door handle, dude's trying to open the door of the truck but it's locked... Immediately I rip open my bag and jump up and start unzipping my tent, dude doesn't move he's stationary outside the tent next to my truck. I get the inner unzipped and realize this person knows exactly where I'm exiting the tent and has me dead to rights if he wants me so I pause... I couldn't figure out the next move, probably 15-20 seconds I just stood in the vestibule with this dude a few feet outside of it and he didn't move either. I had my truck keys in a mesh pocket of the tent by the door, somehow got the idea to hit the lock button and beep the horn. So I reached in and hit the button and the horn goes beep beep beep, footsteps take off running. I fly out of the vestibule chasing this guy barefoot in my underwear through West Texas scrub brush for a bit, finally realizing it's a terrible idea I stop and flash the light around for a bit. I hear the steps off in the distance and they stop. Walk back to the tent and mull around for a while and finally end up going back to bed figuring it was just an illegal looking for food or whatever. Couple months later talking to a border patrol friend of mine it came up and I told him the story not thinking much of it. He got a pretty serious look on his face. He said man that was a much more serious situation than you realize, he said out groups come across fully stocked and they have drop points and caches plotted out and supplies ready. He said those were no illegals, that was likely a mule returning back to Mexico after dropping off a load. Apparently those guys are more aggressive because they're headed back to Mexico so don't really care about breaking laws and such.

 

[ScreamingPotato]

There's a beach down here, 60 miles of national seashore with zero civilization. The whole thing is a barrier island and there's stories of the Karankawa Indians slaughtering Spanish sailors when they shipwreck out there. We used to camp out there and shark fish and we'd go way down past where anybody drove mostly. We've had a few unexplained things but one night a buddy and I were out there each solo with our own trucks. We'd park parallel and stretch a tarp between the trucks and sleep in our chairs with the rods out overnight usually soaking stingray baits or half a jack crevelle. One evening, wasn't even really late maybe 11pm I'm grabbing something out of my truck and I hear my buddy say HEY! I get my beer or whatever and I hear HEY! again so I turn and walk over towards his truck. At this point he comes up from around the front of my truck a d asks me what I needed. I said I don't need anything what's up? He said he was checking the lines and heard me call him so he came over. I said I didn't call you, you called me, I heard you say Hey. He said YOU said Hey I didn't say anything. We stare at each other for a split second and both our eyes grow big as we realize what's going on. Both of us grab our handguns and lights and start shining all over, run up over the sand dunes shining everywhere. There was nobody else around..

 

[Buckshotaz]

fly out of the vestibule chasing this guy barefoot in my underwear through West Texas scrub brush for a bit,

Why is the guy warning your underwear?

 

[jcaud]

Been following along for awhile, so figured I’d share my most relevant story. Not necessarily creepy, and not necessarily backcountry, but damn it scared me at the time.

I had just turned 12 the winter before, and gotten my hunter safety certification that summer. I’d been hunting with my old man since I was 4ish, so I knew our farm well and was safe and trusted, and had gotten to where I was occasionally sitting on my on some field edges and such (southern Missouri for reference). Dad would drop me off on the way to his stand, and pick me up on the way to the truck.

One nice November morning, he had finished his morning sit and came to pick me up, so we could head back to the house for a mid day sandwich and a TV show. When we sat down for lunch, dad chose a poorly made tv show called Monsterquest - and today’s subject was the Ozarks Bigfoot (Momo). Momo was a mean fella according to some of the eyewitnesses - he had tormented some cabins and whooped on some hunters from time to time, using the rolling terrain and timber as his home.

A couple hours later, we’re making our way out for the evening hunt. He drops me off with a 5 gallon bucket and a 243 and tells me good luck, headed off to his stand. I sat down next to a tree that provided a good rifle rest and provided some thick cover behind me. An hour or so in, I start hearing these big, heavy footsteps making their way through the woods - the kind that only a Bigfoot (or squirrel) was capable of making. My little hands gripped my Savage 243 tightly - I began to sweat. As the steps grew closer, I knew my end was near. If Momo had kicked all these grown men’s asses, how was my small adolescent frame going to deal with the inevitable confrontation? I decided my best move was to fill him up with Core-Lokts as soon as he closed the distance. Time drug on forever as Momo moved in for the kill.

As soon as he had reached point blank range, I said one last prayer, stood up and turned around to let Momo have it. I wheeled 180 degrees - at about 10 yards stood a yearling doe. She looked at me, I looked at her - both scared shitless. As I stood there frozen, she bounded off through the timber.

I sat back down and let the relief wash over me - I’d been spared for another day. Nothing else memorable happened that night, I’m not even sure I saw another deer. After dark, dad swings by to pick me up. “How was your hunt, did you see any good deer?” He asked. I looked him dead in the eyes and said “nope,” and then grabbed my bucket and beat it back to the truck.

 

[ScreamingPotato]

Here's a two-parter from when I was probably around 10 years old or so. This was on a South Texas ranch my dad had leased on the Nueces river. Dad wanted to sit in a pretty tight spot up in a skinny tripod and offered to let me sit in a big box blind alone. I was scared as it would be my first time but I knew the drill and was educated, he promised he wouldn't let it get dark. This was in the 80's so most people didn't have all the gadgets and headlamps and stuff. He dropped me off with my Win 70 youth 243 and headed out in the truck. Pace was 6,000 acres and his spot was a ways away. I still remember watching the truck go as far as I could see them watching the dust trail rise. I guess about an hour goes by and I see this giant body round the corner, it was Bubba the old mean Brahma bull. This place has tons of cattle but Bubba had a reputation. I'm way up high in a blind so no big deal, until Bubba decided he needed a back scratch and came up and started scraping on the blind legs. I thought for sure the blind was gonna fall over, almost shot that bull but I kept thinking about the trouble I'd be in. He finally quit and walked off.

So fast forward to roughly sunset, dad packs up and heads my way. Along the drive he spots a very large mature doe alone without a fawn and she trots off into a thicket where she thinks she's covered, dad creeps up to the fence line and shoots and she drops. He can hear her bleeting over and over non-stop. There's nonroad over there and he'd have to hop the fence and walk, but it's quickly getting dark and he's worried about me in the blind. He figures the doe is spined and likely going to expire and decides to haul butt to pick me up and then come back. He comes flying up to the blind telling me to hurry up we've gotta go out a doe down. We get over to the fence line and dad, myself, and stepmother hop out of the truck and go walking in. Dad has two knives and a mag light, stepmother and I only have some latex gloves and such. We all walk in there to where the doe was and she's not there. We can see some drag marks and blood trail so dad figures she's dragging herself with her front legs and feels terrible about it so we take off following these drag marks. He's the only one with a flashlight so we're close behind him. Walking through this thick stuff with sort of a trail corridor we start seeing eyes flash at the edge of the brush, flash on our right then a couple seconds later flash on the left. Eyes are sort of paralleling us as we walk. We come around a bend in this trail and there's the doe, sitting quietly with her head up and eyes glassed over like she's mentally checked out. I remember her neck was really shiny in the light, shiny from chin to shoulders and thought it looked really strange. Dad hands me the light and tells me he's gonna go cut her throat and stresses the importance of keeping the light on this deer and not moving it while he's trying to put her down, the eyes were still around so he knew I'd be moving the light around. So I hold the light and dad walks up to this deer, got the knife ready and reaches for her head. Right as he reaches for the head the most blood curdling scream rips out right next to us in the brunch, freaking mountain lion scream so close it was like it was screaming directly into my ears. Stepmother is running in place and making weird noises, I'm holding the light on the deer's head with the willpower stronger than an oak tree, Dad's got the knife in fighting position yelling at me to shine the light on the lion, it was chaotic and somewhat comical. Dad pulls us in and says keep our backs together so we're standing in formation, slowly backing out back down the trail with our backs all together. Once we get out of the thicket we turn and walk rapidly back to the truck. We get to the truck and stepmother loses it and starts crying and I'm silent sort of in shock. Dad puts us in the truck, grabs his freaking 380 pistol and says y'all stay here I'll go get the deer. WHAT?!? Yep, that nut walked back in there by himself with a 380, slit the deer's throat with his knife and gutted that deer where it sat and said the whole time the eyes were circling around the edges of the brush. This little opening was maybe 10 yards across from thick wall of brush to thick wall of brush, wasn't much room to breath. After what seemed like eternity we finally see his flashlight slowly making it's way out of the thicket and into the opening.headed back to the truck dragging this deer, dragged that thing all the way to the truck and wouldn't let us out of the truck to help him load it. He got back in and nobody said a word all the way back to camp. I never even got to tell him about how Bubba almost killed me..

 

[aftriathlete]

Here's a two-parter from when I was probably around 10 years old or so. This was on a South Texas ranch my dad had leased on the Nueces river. Dad wanted to sit in a pretty tight spot up in a skinny tripod and offered to let me sit in a big box blind alone. I was scared as it would be my first time but I knew the drill and was educated, he promised he wouldn't let it get dark. This was in the 80's so most people didn't have all the gadgets and headlamps and stuff. He dropped me off with my Win 70 youth 243 and headed out in the truck. Pace was 6,000 acres and his spot was a ways away. I still remember watching the truck go as far as I could see them watching the dust trail rise. I guess about an hour goes by and I see this giant body round the corner, it was Bubba the old mean Brahma bull. This place has tons of cattle but Bubba had a reputation. I'm way up high in a blind so no big deal, until Bubba decided he needed a back scratch and came up and started scraping on the blind legs. I thought for sure the blind was gonna fall over, almost shot that bull but I kept thinking about the trouble I'd be in. He finally quit and walked off.

So fast forward to roughly sunset, dad packs up and heads my way. Along the drive he spots a very large mature doe alone without a fawn and she trots off into a thicket where she thinks she's covered, dad creeps up to the fence line and shoots and she drops. He can hear her bleeting over and over non-stop. There's nonroad over there and he'd have to hop the fence and walk, but it's quickly getting dark and he's worried about me in the blind. He figures the doe is spined and likely going to expire and decides to haul butt to pick me up and then come back. He comes flying up to the blind telling me to hurry up we've gotta go out a doe down. We get over to the fence line and dad, myself, and stepmother hop out of the truck and go walking in. Dad has two knives and a mag light, stepmother and I only have some latex gloves and such. We all walk in there to where the doe was and she's not there. We can see some drag marks and blood trail so dad figures she's dragging herself with her front legs and feels terrible about it so we take off following these drag marks. He's the only one with a flashlight so we're close behind him. Walking through this thick stuff with sort of a trail corridor we start seeing eyes flash at the edge of the brush, flash on our right then a couple seconds later flash on the left. Eyes are sort of paralleling us as we walk. We come around a bend in this trail and there's the doe, sitting quietly with her head up and eyes glassed over like she's mentally checked out. I remember her neck was really shiny in the light, shiny from chin to shoulders and thought it looked really strange. Dad hands me the light and tells me he's gonna go cut her throat and stresses the importance of keeping the light on this deer and not moving it while he's trying to put her down, the eyes were still around so he knew I'd be moving the light around. So I hold the light and dad walks up to this deer, got the knife ready and reaches for her head. Right as he reaches for the head the most blood curdling scream rips out right next to us in the brunch, freaking mountain lion scream so close it was like it was screaming directly into my ears. Stepmother is running in place and making weird noises, I'm holding the light on the deer's head with the willpower stronger than an oak tree, Dad's got the knife in fighting position yelling at me to shine the light on the lion, it was chaotic and somewhat comical. Dad pulls us in and says keep our backs together so we're standing in formation, slowly backing out back down the trail with our backs all together. Once we get out of the thicket we turn and walk rapidly back to the truck. We get to the truck and stepmother loses it and starts crying and I'm silent sort of in shock. Dad puts us in the truck, grabs his freaking 380 pistol and says y'all stay here I'll go get the deer. WHAT?!? Yep, that nut walked back in there by himself with a 380, slit the deer's throat with his knife and gutted that deer where it sat and said the whole time the eyes were circling around the edges of the brush. This little opening was maybe 10 yards across from thick wall of brush to thick wall of brush, wasn't much room to breath. After what seemed like eternity we finally see his flashlight slowly making it's way out of the thicket and into the opening.headed back to the truck dragging this deer, dragged that thing all the way to the truck and wouldn't let us out of the truck to help him load it. He got back in and nobody said a word all the way back to camp. I never even got to tell him about how Bubba almost killed me..

That is a wild story.

 

[WhiskeyDoc]

Scouting some new places today… looking at the ground for tracks, pause to look up and this is staring me in the face….




Saw several doe and promising rubs. Marked the spot as “Treebeard.”

 

[go_deep]

Scouting some new places today… looking at the ground for tracks, pause to look up and this is staring me in the face….

View attachment 763602


Saw several doe and promising rubs. Marked the spot as “Treebeard.”

You need to stick a couple reflective tacks in his eye sockets, that'd really freak people out, LOL!

 

[IDVortex]

Scouting some new places today… looking at the ground for tracks, pause to look up and this is staring me in the face….

View attachment 763602


Saw several doe and promising rubs. Marked the spot as “Treebeard.”

This reminds me of some private land that's owned behind Metolius Hot springs where there's a big dong going to a toilet.