Could be. But usually they bury them deeper and cover them with branches so nobody would find them.My guess is that could be someone's gear stash? Might be a tent or stove or something in there?
Two stories of the Pa tornadoes.OK, remembered one from my youth. I was not there or directly involved but know the man who experienced it.
I grew up going to hunting camp for deer and turkey in the northern tier of PA. My father and his hunting partners were involved with a family owned camp that was/is pretty nice as camps go. Many of the family members lived out of state quite a distance and one uncle, who lived about 20 minutes from me but 4 hours drive from camp, was the caretaker. He hunted a little bit but he enjoyed camp and family time immensely. He spent many weekends up there all year round. Tending the gardens and maintaining camp was his hobby. During hunting seasons he would be the cook and do whatever gardening task was appropriate for that time of year. He was often jokingly referred to as the gardener and everyone appreciated the fruit trees, flower beds, rose bushes and plantings that gave camp a comfortable touch of class.
i was away at college late one summer when he headed to camp for a weekend. There was some turbulent weather coming in but he figured he could make the drive before the storms got bad as he knew the trip well. It turned out to be one of the rare afternoons that a tornado makes an appearance in the mountains of PA. He saw the funnel touch down and move at an angle to the road he was traveling. Hoping to outrun it he put the pedal down and tried to get to cover behind a ridge. If he could make it then he could get to camp about 15 miles further and batten down the hatches.
Well, he didn’t make it to cover. Realizing it was futile he pulled his truck off the side of the road into the shallow ditch line. Jumping from the truck he ran about 30 yards and laid down in the ditch to hide and pray. The storm thundered around him and the funnel passed by across the field at the base of the ridge. He lay there until he thought it was safe and then some. Seeing the destruction on the hillsides around him was impressive and he gave thanks to be safe and still have a truck to leave in.
With mixed emotions and trepidation he continued on to camp afraid of the destruction he may find. He again had reason to be thankful at the sight of minimal damage. He thoroughly checked over camp and sat down to recover in a quiet moment. It was obvious that a great wind had blown through with broken branches and foreign debris scattered about. After getting some dinner and calming down he decided chores could wait until the next morning. But he wanted to walk around the “yard” area and see what might need prioritized on the chore list. He picked up litter as he went, the winds having carried stuff in from miles away. Retrieving a piece of paper from the base of a rose bush in a flower bed out front he smoothed it out and looked at it. Printed on that page was a poem entitled “ The Gardener”.
Things that make you go “Hmmmm”.......
I had a warden in a Ghillie suit reach out and grab me I never knew he was there I was maybe 16 years old fishing worms in a fly fishing stretch I hiked way into, I had no idea it was fly only it opened to bait the following weekend. I was next to the bank putting a worm on my hook and he grabbed my wrist as I was doing it. I thought a piece of moss that fell or something, his face was painted and everything then I heard Maine Game Warden, I yanked my hand back my brain couldn’t even comprehend what was going on till he took the stuff off his head and I could see it was a personThis thread needs to keep going I've read every page so far and now I want more. So I'll tell my story not creepy at all but I almost shot a game warden.
I was about 17 when this took place. On our farm where we hunt whitetails our neighbors lease their land out. Well this particular year the leasees were blatantly breaking the law continously including shooting our hunting stands and shooting in our vicinity to try to get us to leave.
We called the game warden out and gave him a key to our property to attempt to catch them. The game warden would call everytime he went out.
I went out to my stand never received a call from the game warden sat there spotting for awhile when I noticed about 250 yards away what appeared to be a large clump of grass very very slowly moving.
I got my rifle out since the scope had more magnification and started watching it wondering what the hell it was. Well being young and dumb I thought screw it there's no deer out let's shoot it.
I guess that game warden heard my thoughts as I was looking at this patch of grass slowly moving getting ready to chamber a round. He turned his head and I can plan as day see his face staring at me. I almost dropped my damn rifle out of the stand.
Later on that day I got to talk to him and profusely apologized for aiming at him I left out the other part. He apologized for not giving us a call and all was well.
So lesson learned that day and very thankful that game warden looked at me.
This has Humboldt county written all over it, nit much has changedGrew up pretty deep in the coastal mountains of northern California back in the 70’s and 80’s. Most of the forest was private timberlands, thousands of acres, so as kids we spent most of our time out there exploring all the ups and downs, ridges and draws. It was a place back then that was difficult to live in due to mud-slides, power outages, roads being wiped out, so most folks that lived there wanted to be left alone and not be found. The general area had a reputation for being “creepy” even more than its neighboring mountain communities. Rumors of devil worshiping, stuff like that.
It was ripe for exploring though. Lots of old logging shacks from the 50's filled with rusted tools and equipment, abandoned (or live) pot farms, discarded cabins.
One time we came to an old logging clearing where someone had obviously had a pot farm going on but was now vacant. We noticed a dugout shelter beyond the clearing and after tossing a few rocks to see if anyone was there we dropped down and inspected the shack. Empty but definitely recently used.
From there a well-constructed trail dropped down the draw a bit, even had a small 5” bridge crossing a drainage made out of redwood branches. We followed it another 50 yards to a clearing which contained a wooden folding table right in the middle.
Immediately we joked that it’s where they used to do the human sacrifices. At that time one of my friends reaches down and pulls up a piece of lead pipe out of the leaf litter. And yea, it was a 5’ cross made out of pipes and connectors, even had end-caps in case we tried to dismiss it as a coincidence.
We ran…I don’t mind admitting…in the relative direction we knew was the nearest logging road and didn’t stop until we got to the bottom.
It wasn’t uncommon to find rocks painted with weird spiritual designs placed in specific shapes near trees, one time there was a pile of ashes and bone in a tree base with a golden lion statue out front. Almost off of this was well off any path or logging road and we never would have found them if we didn’t randomly roam.
It was the 70’s after all. Different times.
This gave me the chills, I’ve heard this exact thing before. For the life of me, I can’t remember where at, but that is spot on.Drums. I heard drums on a mule deer hunt a few years ago. In a slot canyon in Western SD, waiting on my partner to come back over a ridge. Right at sundown, a very distinct drum beat, Boom boom boom boom! And again, Boom boom boom boom. And once more, Boom boom boom boom. We are near area where they are doing some mine cleanup, so didnt give it much thought. Buddy came back, and asked him if he heard it. Said no, so I pointed in the direction it came from and asked which direction that cleanup was at. Sure enough, opposite direction, 10 miles away. Nope probably not that. Get back to the truck and in cell service for the night, and look up there area we are in. Turns out there are ancient Native American caves and pictographs in that canyon somewhere. After reading that, my hair stood up on the back of my neck. Kinda spooky.
I think curiosity would have got the best of me.Found a deep freezer once that was buried in the middle of nowhere. Some critters had dug the dirt off the top. No roads to get it in there, lid was closed, didn’t look like it had been there too long. Did not open the lid.
it was actually down in New Mexico, has to walk through this abandoned amphitheater thing to get to the trail. The place was a known drinking spot for the homeless locals.We’re you hunting a park in downtown Anchorage on any given Saturday night?
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