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  • 3 months later...

In 2001 I took my Jeep on a trip. I did about 9000 miles in six weeks, from NY to Whyoming, down through the mountain states and back.

Somewhere west of Denver, along i70, I pulled off to find a place to camp. I rolled into a very small town. I believe it was just a mile long, dead end strip, With houses and stores, and cars parked here and there along side the road. At the time I didn't take particular notice of anyone or anything. It would turn out that my mind picked up a couple small details that I would remember a little while later; namely, three young guys sitting on a stoop and a tan sedan parked in front of them. They had noticed my coming and going from town.

I drove away; possibly heading up the interstate a short distance, or passing under the interstate, heading south on rough roads. In a short time I had taken a sharp left turn and, in about a hundred yards, I came to a dead end in the woods that looked to be a good spot to camp.

I turned the jeep around and started unloading some things. I just happened to be looking towards the turn I had come around; when I noticed the front two or three feet of a tan sedan poke around the corner, lurch to a stop and the back away, out of site.. I immediately put my observations from town together and knew I was in trouble. 

Those three guys had me pegged for a lone traveller looking for a place to spend the night and figured I might find this spot. They had pulled around the corner far enough to see my jeep. But not far enough that I or the driver saw each other

I quickly tossed my stuff in the jeep tore out of there. When I came around the corner I passed their car which they had pulled into a small turn-around. As I whizzed passed them I could see that they were In the middle of grabbing things from the car and trunk and putting on different shirts.

I cannot be 100% sure but I believe that I would not have had a good night if I didn't catch a glimpse of that bumper.

Edited by Michael Clark
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On the same trip I went to Canyonlands NP in Utah and drove the White Rim trail; down along the Colorado river and back up along the Green River. 

As I drove along the Green River, along some flats, I saw a bunch of bicyclists entering a campground. As bikers rode in, they were all greeted with lots of cheers and celebration; they must have had a long trek.

I continued on and started heading up Hardscrabble hill. Towards the top, a Cherokee was heading towards me, and as we both slowed down, to allow each other to pass, we came upon a cyclist lying on the side of the road, near his bike. He had died. He was already grayish in color, and we knew it was too late to help him. He was in his mid-40's and obviously in good shape. He had his arms articulated in a way that indicated he was trying to get his backpack around to the front of him when he died.

After talking with the Cherokee driver, we decided that he would head to the campground where the bicyclists were and I would head on to inform the ranger.

I had never seen a dead person outside of a wake, so that fairly well creeped me out.

Edited by Michael Clark
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One night I was hunting in the Adirindack Mountains of NY. I left camp at around 3:AM to climb a mountain that I had scouted the previous day. It was Muzzleloading season.
I was about half way up when I heard a scream just like another member described.  I would further describe it as an insane wouman, being brutally murdered.
All bets were off at the moment regarding what were just fairy tales, myths, harpies, sirens and bogeymen; the were suddenly all real and I wished I had not found out at that moment, alone on a mountainside in the middle of the night.
A complete chill and shudder came through in a wave across my body. I dropped to my buckled knees.  I really thought I was done for but realised that I had to do something to defend my self. I tried to load my gun but the shaking and shuddering were too much and I could not get it loaded.  
Of course I was fine and was on my way in a few minutes. I was paying no attention to the voice in my head that told me I should be trying to find the woman that made that noise.
Over some time and after some research, the best candidate for the identity of that creature that I could find was that it was a bobcat.
To be sure, it sounded exactly like a woman. It was uncanny; and farghing scary as hell!


It sounded like this, but higher and smoother.


Edited by Michael Clark
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This is not a particularly remarkable story; but it is about my initiation into the belief that spirits linger in this world after death.

I was having dinner and drinks at the home of a friend of mine; he is an older guy. It seemed to me that he had a good buzz going. Glazed eyes,  a fixed smile, and a reluctance to make eye contact were unusual for him. He was lamenting the final days of a neighbor and friend; an old man, whom he spent a lot of time taking care of up until his death. He was revealing some details of this experience; and it had the essence of a confession. Their was a sense of guilt that he was imparting in this conversation.

The guilt was entirely unjustified, as he could not have done much about the circumstances and final outcome. Over the next year or two I had a similar experience, caring for my father as he died from Lou Gherig's disease and dementia. For all I did to care for him there were times that I  did not do enough, and those failings bother me to this day. This is only relevant in as much as I can, now, understand this helpless guilt.

It was those kinds of failings that my friend was lamenting that night while we were eating and drinking. 

During a lull in the conversation, while he was uncharacteristically staring a thousand yards away, in a modest sized kitchen, with the glazed eyes and resigned smile, that i felt a cold space move through my own bodily space. I can't say that I got a chill; it was different. 

I looked at him and asked if he felt that; and without looking at me, and with no excitement; he said "yes".

I knew then that this spirit stays close to him; for better or for worse; and for the first time I became a believer in such things.

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I have this cooler. It's an old, ordinary  plastic cooler that I have had for a long time. It really is exceptionally ordinary except for one thing: It makes a signature creeking sound when it is opened.   
I love this cooler. I can be camping with a boatload of folks and, amidst a late-night cacophony of nonsense, I can hear, from a distance, the tell-tale creek of my cooler letting me know that someone is scavenging my stash for a beer.  
The voice of the cooler would go unnoticed to me, or at most as a minor annoyance, if it were not for a very cool night I spent camping in northwest Colorado.  
In 2001, I took my six month old Jeep on a mountain and desert state trek after being laid off with a severance package.   
I left the Teton area of Wyoming one day, passing through a sliver of Idaho and into northwest Colorado before it was time to find a place to camp.   
My map indicated a camping area, near a reservoir, up in some hills not far from the highway I was following; so I made my way there.   I looked about the place and saw nothing very interesting. 
I did come upon about 6 pelts, from what I thought might be muskrats. They were stripped clean of flesh and turned inside-out. I thought it was strange and I assumed that they might have been illegally taken and ditched to avoid approaching authorities.   
I don't know anything about furs but I could tell that they were very nice and could see how they might be valuable. Being a hunter I wanted to get them to someone who might be able to conserve or use them; but I thought better of that and kept looking for a campsite.  
It was a rather nice area,  if barren of forest and trees. I set up camp on a hill overlooking the reservoir. I was completely alone.  
Following my daily routine that I had established early in my trip, I cooked, cleaned, sat down with a six-pack and an atlas, and began to ponder my next days journey. I had no plan. 
 It became dark, I grew tired. Then a set of headlight beams started tracing around the sky as a vehicle made its way up the access road and appeared on the opposite side of the lake from me. It wound partway around the lake until it stopped after some maneuvering. I could see headlights pointing onto the water and figured out that they were unloading a boat and some gear. After a few minutes, the commotion stopped, I heard the truck doors close, and the truck started moving and began to head up my way.   
I could tell that I had been noticed, and the folks in the truck were coming to check me out. It was an uneasy couple minutes for me, alone, unarmed, no communications and my whereabouts unknown to anyone. I had considered vacating my site to an observable distance but decided to hope for the best and be the friendly traveller.  
The truck approached and the driver courteously switched from the headlights to parking lights and parked; I heard a "hello" as the occupants got out and approached.   
 There were two guys and they repeated their greeting and walked up to me. I returned the greeting and we talked for a while. 
 They heard about my trip, expressed admiration for the endeavor and explained that they were going to be fishing in the reservoir for a few hours.   
 Before moving on, one of the guys said "do you like trout". I said "absolutely" and he walked away as he said "alright" with some emphasis.
 They drove down to the boat and disembarked as I went back to my chair, thinking of my sleeping bag and camp mat. As I let myself wind down from the recent encounter I noticed a crimson glow outlining the hills and wearily wondered what I was looking at; hoping it was not any cause for interruption of my imminent snooze.  
 I tried to let my relaxed state of mind take over as I stared into the fire and failed to avoid questions as to what might be causing the glow in the sky over the hills.   
 The deep red hue had me assuming it was a fire somewhere but my mind went through a host of other options before I had to look up again. It was growing slowly and unsteadily, and I had to rule-out fire as the cause because it was so intermittent.  
 Then I noticed that it was moving in rose colored  waves and sheets. Originating strongest at the skyline the colors weakened towards the center of sky as the waves rolled and lapped up against the dark sky as if it were a sparkling black sandy beach at night at the edge of a sea of luminescent blood.  
 After a few moments I realized that I was looking at a completely red Aurora Borealis; something I did not know existed. I was dumbstruck with awe at what I was seeing. I had never seen the Northern Lights before and had imagined that I never would; but here I was watching great scarlet splashes, spokes and spikes striking at the star filled sky with unbelievable speed; revealing a perspective which confirmed the fact that all this luminous noise was occurring at a tremendous distance from my location.  
After a while, I realized that I was not breathing and my chest was tight. I was gripped by a tension that I had never experienced before, a feeling I would not have expected or imagined unless I had just met my maker. I made several attempts, as time passed, to relax, and enjoy this cosmic show as if it were produced for my entertainment. 
 My soul was clearly not convinced about the entertainment angle I was trying take on the spectacle; anxiety and tension continued to build. Before I realized it, 2 hours had passed and I may have had three sips of my beer. Suddenly I let out a Huge exhausted sigh. The brilliant show in the night sky had worn me down, exhausting me physically and emotionally from the tension and tumultuous beauty I was witnessing.  I was spent and went to bed, dismayed that I was turning my back on a phenomena that I would probably never see again. As I immediately fell into an exhausted sleep I was briefly concerned that if something should happen during the night, around my tent, I would slumber through it, oblivious until it was too late. And then I slept, deeply.  
  At some point in the night my consciousness was ever so slightly aroused by a creeking sound followed by a thump. That's all I remember from my sleep as I woke the next morning, yawning and rubbing my eyes and trying to mentally reconnect my brain to my legs and feet; I had slept very deeply.  
  In due course I was out of my tent and slowly fussing around, preparing for breakfast. I opened my cooler, and the creeking movement of the lid reminded me of the sound I heard during the night. As I was trying to get my sleepy head around the noise that seemed like a faint dream, I reached for a package in the cooler that I couldn't identify. I unpacked one freezer bag from another and realized that there were five dressed rainbow trout inside.  
  It took a few minutes to realize that I had not bought and forgotten about them. Then the previous nights puzzled pieces came together and I had a most delicious and thankful breakfast for the next three days, compliments a couple of Colorado fisherman who must have had a fantastic night fishing and enjoying the northern lights.  

Whenever I hear my cooler open up, I smile.

Hi, Joe, Do You see a field, below these words that say "Ryply to this topic"? If so, Click in there and a window should open up in which you could post your reply.

Edited by Michael Clark
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  • 7 months later...

This story is from member, Joe Bauer 

I give up trying the links you provide for me to send this to you otherwise.

I did so and I received a notice saying my e-mail didn't get through.

I will only leave this posting up long enough for one of you to copy it as it is not in context with the forum's JFK theme. I would not normally even post something so removed from our forum mission.

But I want you two to see and read this story  enough to risk posting it for an hour or two until I hear you have copied it.

I hope other members allow this posting for the brief time I ask.  I will remove it no later than one or two hours from now.

To anyone who reads this account, please forgive my lack of writing skills.

I hope they aren't so bad they detract from the story.
Also, I am sure some readers will assume that there is an inference in my story that it involves possible UFO and ET entities.  If this subject is a turn off for you then just don't read this. However, I will say ahead of time that I do not know what my family's experience was caused or influenced by.
It was the end of August 1997?  My family and I lived in a home in an exclusive area of the Central California Coast named Pebble Beach.
Pebble Beach is a high income resort community ( the Pebble Beach golf course is located there ) that is nestled among huge tracts of native Pine trees. It is as much a nature preserve as it is a community of homes.
It was purposely planned and laid out to blend with nature and the surrounding forest and is without sidewalks and street lights. Resident's homes are surrounded by this thick Pine tree forest.
Our home had open forest on 3 sides and just one home maybe 50 years to our South side. It was "out there" if you will.
This one warm late August evening we all went to bed as usual. 10:PM or so. Our two young children ( age 12 and 10 ) had their own upstairs bedrooms as did my wife and I.
At just around 2:AM I was awakened. Not by a sound...but by a light shining into my room so bright I had to hold my hand to my eyes to keep from being totally blinded by it. This light was coming through our upstairs hallway windows facing the street above us. 
I was sleepy headed enough for the next 30 to 60 seconds after first seeing this light, that I just didn't know what to make of it. I was actually frozen in confused contemplation.
Now, remember, we had no street lights anywhere near our home. At night it is typically so dark outside with the tall forest trees, you can't see anything without a flashlight or car headlights.
A light this bright is just unheard of in our neck of the woods.
This light seemed to be coming in from above the street next to us ( 75 feet away ) which was elevated itself from our property at maybe a 20%  angle.
The light was so bright my imagination considered that perhaps there were many emergency response vehicles ( fire trucks, police cars, etc. ) right outside our property shining every flood light they had directly on to our home.  But within seconds of this thought I realized that there was "absolutely no sound" anywhere in, outside our home.  There clearly weren't any vehicles with motors running near us.
I also imagined one or two of those huge Hollywood movie premier lamps being directed onto our home.
The kind that send beams high up into the sky and can be seen for miles?
That silly thought dissipated seconds later.
I was just left in baffled wonder.
This light that was filling our home and my open door upstairs bedroom had a strange color to it. The best I can describe it is to compare it to the kind of light a welder's torch makes. It wasn't slightly and warmly yellow toned like our daylight sun and most lamps or lights. It had a stark cold blue/white look.  And I might add ominously, the kind of light one sees when viewing documentaries of the moon landing. Just cold white.
One may wonder why I didn't just leap out of bed and run out into our upstairs hallway to look directly through our windows to see what was shining this light. Honestly, I didn't do so out of a combination of sleepy laziness mixed with confusion and eventually awe and with some apprehension as well. I'll admit I was somewhat rattled and frankly afraid to jump into this light's direct path.
It was about 2 minutes after this light first awakened me that I heard my wife stir in her bedroom next door. 
This silent but blinding light was so bright, just it's brightness through the crack underneath her closed bedroom door had awakened her as well. I heard her say to herself..."what is that light?"
No coward like me, as soon as the light awakened her my wife got up to see what was illuminating this. I heard her door knob turning and at exactly that point this surreal bright blue/white light ... just blinked off!
And as it did, every electrical appliance and device in our home quit working at the same time. 
My wife walked into my room, sleepy and perplexed like me, and sat down on the edge of my bed and repeated her question..."what was that incredibly bright light?"
In my rattled state I said simply..."I have no idea."
We realized nothing electrical worked as the light switches didn't function. The sound of our refrigerator stopped. Our clock radios no longer shown their lights.
We soon felt the need to check on our children down the hall. We got a flashlight ( which did work) and walked down and first shined this on our son.  He was lying facing away from us but obviously asleep. Our daughter next door was also asleep and apparently fine.
My wife and I went back to her bedroom to just think about things. We were now awake enough that going back to sleep wasn't an immediate option.
We were concerned enough about this weird, strange event that we tried the phone. It worked. We immediately called the Pebble Beach Security people at the gate of entry about a half mile away. We asked them if they had also experienced this bright lite and electrical interruption. We asked them if any other residents had called in about this. They said no to all of these questions.
Then, about ten minutes after this event first occurred, our lights and electricity just blinked back on!
More weirdness. 
Now, we had power lines above our property on the street side. I had given at least some thought that maybe this light was the result of "arcing" wires due to squirrels running onto these?
I even asked my long time electrical power company employed brother about this possible scenario.
He told me that high tension lines certain can and do arc. Especially when it is wet outside and something touches them such as a bird of squirrel or even wet broken limbs. And he said this could be very bright and have that blue/white quality.
But, August is one of our driest months here in California. So there was no wetness anywhere including the trees. No wind or broken limbs either.
But he also said that if something made these lines arc, it would not be a steady two minute or longer illumination. It would be a broken unsteady one. And whatever animal may have contacted and sparked these wires would be fried within seconds and probably fall to the ground.
My wife and I eventually got tired from worrying about all this strangeness and went back to bed.
The next morning ( a Saturday ) my wife and I got up early, before our children, and as my wife began to prepare eggs and bacon for breakfast and I started reading our morning news paper, we heard footsteps coming down the stairs to where we were in the kitchen and living room.
We didn't immediately look up, until we heard our son say tiredly..."Man,  I had the worst nose bleed of my life last night."
We looked up and were stunned to see his face from the nose down and much of the front of his T-shirt...covered in dried blood!
Shocked, we attended to him and soon went back up to his room. His pillow was also covered in blood.
Since we looked in on our son at about 2:15 am earlier that morning, this "nose bleed" had to have occurred between then and when he got out of bed to see and tell us what he awoke to.
Also, I had to mention to my wife that I never recalled our son ever getting a nose bleed. She affirmed this memory.
Well, what does one make of such a strange story like this?  I have no strong idea myself as to what caused this event.
But, it an absolutely true story...and one strange ( or maybe even scary ) enough to share with readers who enjoy these kinds of tales.
Last fun little strangeness story. 
Maybe 10 to 12 years ago I read an obituary in the San Francisco Chronicle.
It was fairly long and well written. Obviously by a relative of the deceased. It was glowing in it's loving remembrance of this elderly man's very accomplished and giving life.
It was a very straight forward account. Not overly emotional. One written by someone literate.
They said their father was surrounded by his very large family when he passed.
But the very last paragraph stopped me.
I have to assume the writer must have debated whether to put this into their account. It did not adhere to the remembrance context of the rest of the Obit.
The writer wrote..."the second my father passed away...every clock in the residence stopped working."
Whoa...now there's a strange tale.


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