“It Snapped Like A Biscuit”: 40 Hikers Who Saw Something Truly Terrifying

While hunting on the side of a steep hillside, I saw a black bear. She was walking on the same trial as me. I really had no place to go as the hillside was very steep. I thought when she saw me she would run off. I waved my arms, yelled. A lot. Then her two cubs appeared behind her and she is getting closer. I yell a bunch more, wave my arms more. I hunt with a single shot handgun in a large caliber. I took it out and took aim while still yelling. She finally saw me, and charged. I had the hammer back, slack out of the trigger. She stopped about 20 yards away. Stood on her hind legs and woofed at me, then turned to leave. I hunted somewhere else that day.

Oh, skiing down a slope which was on a sliding surface of a rock slab underneath, and breaking through a snow bridge. I had 1 leg and ski in the crevasse and the other outside. Changes your perception. I could have sworn it was twice as deep when I later skied up to the hole I punched through. Far worse than either of the avalanches that I’ve been in. Since that time I’ve also jumped into crevasses for rescue practice. Not nearly as fearful.

Take your pick:

When I was a teen I was in the Chisos Basin in Big Bend National Park with my parents. My parents learned of a scenic waterfall at the base of the mountains. To get there by road involved driving out of the basin and then along the foot of the mountains. There was an alternative route. You could hike to the "window" where the basin drains and then follow the trail to the falls. The trail is seldom used and follows the water pipeline route from the falls to the tourist facilities in the basin. We guessed the time hiking and driving would be about the same so I hiked and my parents drove. About 80% of the way there, I came across the park's water storage tanks and a giant cottonwood tree. The trail went under the tree and there was no way around. Normally that would be no problem but at the time there was an adult mountain lion resting on a branch above the trail. It sounded quite contented as it was purring. Was I it's next meal? If I didn't continue on, my parents would get worried and come up the trail to meet me. That would put them at risk. If I waited that might inspire the cat to make me their next meal. I decided to slowly make my way to the other side and continue on to the waterfall. I didn't have to go directly under the cat but it wasn't an easy walk. We watched each other as I made my way under the tree. I was glad the cat wasn't hungry.

Camping: when I was a real little kid, about eight years old, I went to the campground bathroom at Glacier National Park. After I finished, I opened the door to go outside. And there it was, a bear was right outside the bathroom door looking for fish in the creek that ran next to the bathroom. I closed the door and waited and waited. Eventually the bear left and so did I. Years later someone asked why I didn't leave as the bear could have trapped me in the bathroom. I said I thought about that and thought it would be safer inside than passing really close to a bear.

Not hiking but kayak camping - I was kayaking Lake Powell with my dog Elle. We headed up a nice side canyon with a great camping site so we made camp for the night. We then hiked further up the side canyon. Just as we reached the end' the weather changed. It started to cloud up and I could sense that rain was on its way so we hurried back to camp. The rain hit just we reached camp. It was late so I decided that we could eat cold food in the tent. We didn't have cell phone service and I only had intermittent satellite texting service with my sister. I texted her that I hoped that I picked the right camp site as the rain was starting to get pretty heavy. The sun set. It was pitch black outside. Thunder was frequent. Then I heard the roaring of a flash flood coming down the canyon. I could only hope that I picked a good camp site for Elle and me. I was nervous all night but I couldn't see anything in the dark at night. I the morning when I went outside, I looked outside to see an amazing sight. We had waterfalls on both sides of our tent and about seven or so waterfalls in the section of canyon we were in and a flash flood coming down the canyon floor we hiked up the previous day. We lucked out. Is have a video of our kayaking trip on YouTube I named it something like "Kayaking Lake Powell, Travels With Elle". It is a slideshow of our trip I did for a kayaking show.

It wasn’t scary but certainly a concerning moment.

We decided to see the more remote western side of Glacier NP. If you haven’t seen it, plan on it the next time you are in the vicinity.

I was returning from a day of hiking up to a lake that was close enough to not be a big deal. The trail home seemed to be an unending grinding uphill to a ridge. I stopped to pant turned around and saw an adult (bigger than life) mountain lion sitting on the trail about 20 feet behind me licking her shoulder just as any cat would do - laying in the sun. She (found out about gender later) had a tracking collar. We sort of stood our ground looking at each other, she definitely seemed to be a bit more bored than I, and also was waiting on me in order to continue on the train. In one of those rare brilliant moments, it occurred to me I had a camera slung around my neck. My movement to bring it up to my eye was apparently the last straw. In that moment she had in a smooth motion jumped from the trail into the brush on the other side of a shallow swale. It was at least the distance between the two of us.

While she made noises thrashing her way through the overgrowth it dawned on me that if she wanted, she could easily have had me as dinner. As it was, she too was using the trail as the easiest way to get where she wanted to go. I carried the camera all the way over the ridge and down toward the parking lot — to no avail.

Much to my dismay, I didn’t get a picture of her. I did mention the encounter to a ranger down near the parking lot. He explained they had tagged the lions to identify their migration and habitat range. This one had a name and was probably Harriet. He said that it was typical behavior but surprised she hung out so long waiting for me to move on or even that I saw her. I had not a glimmer of how long she would have been following behind me.

Several years before a few of us were laboring over a 13,200′ pass on our way down to Curmudgeon Hot Springs outside of Aspen Colorado. There was a huge bear fecal deposit absolutely in the middle of the trail - still warm. That steaming heap proved two things:

Bears (and lions) take the path of least resistance - e.g., human trails.
That bears do not always do IT in the forest. Treeline was at least 3000′ below us.
At the hot springs, we were told by others in the small pond, that bears are often seen soaking in this spring - at near 11,000′.

Sure, I’d share a hot pond with a bear. Over the years I have noticed they have a way of being where they want to be.

My husband, two daughters, dog, and I were camping in 2017. We live in a small city/big town with mountains all around us so, at the least, we camp once a year (usually without a designated site, our mountains aren't zoned down to specific/individual spots).

This particular time, we pitched a tent in a spot just off the main canyon road. The dog's bed was placed right outside the sleeping section, within the “front porch" area of the tent (an additional zippered section that was open at this particular time).

I'm always awake later than my family and this night was no different. Middle of the night, at the time of this event, I was sitting inside my car.

My dog suddenly starts barking, relentlessly. While it didn't cause much alarm, as it's not completely out of the ordinary for him (with deer or other small animals frequenting our yard), I hopped out to silence him.

Our children were only five and one at the time, so I reacted a bit more quickly to the volume than I would have, otherwise.

I made it to the tent within six to eight steps and shushed my dog. I then turned my sight in the direction of his to determine what he was upset by, with our backs now on the tent's entrance.

Directly in front of me (us), standing by the fire pit a mere 10 feet away, a bear (black bear) raised his head to make eye contact with me.

I immediately froze and started loudly calling my deep-sleeper husband's name, repeatedly, alternating his name with “bear.”

Only then did I realize the guns were in the car.

Fortunately, at the same moment, the bear turned around and ran off.

Our miniature dachshund thinks he's tough and barks accordingly… and, unbelievably, manages to scare off animals he doesn't stand a chance fighting against.

I gained 2 memories that night, including the show my husband gave me… a burned image of him flying out of the tent in only his underwear and boots. Almost bear-naked, if you will.

A freaking sand cat, in the rub' Alkhali or the empty quarter in Saudi Arabia not only did i find life in it but one of the rarest ones, i mean camels are common donkeys are eh every now and then geckos and jerboas are so common i have to check my shoes every time and snakes are unfortunately common but a sand cat is way too rare and still my proudest experience

I was hitch-hiking across America back in 1976 and I was down around the bottom part of Alabama in a pretty little park on the edge of a small lake. I had taken off my back pack and rolled out my ground cloth and I was settling in for the night. Dinner was simple, some sausage, bread, and fruit from an orchard I had passed earlier in the day. I ate, enjoying every mouthful while I listened to the crackle of the fire and watched the fireflies dance around the lake. I didn’t stay up long because the days travel had worn me out and I was looking forward to seeing an old friend who lived in Birmingham the next day and she was going to show me the sights of the city.

The next morning something horrible woke me up. I could hear something , something big, panting right over my head which was buried in my sleeping bag. Things passed through my mind as I lay there, so scared that I couldn’t move even a single muscle . I lay there smelling the fetid air that whatever monster was above me was breathing out and wondering what in the hell I had gotten myself into. I wasn’t ready to die but I was sure that I was going to…very soon. I lay there and listened as the animal slowly moved off in the direction of the lake and then I couldn’t hear it anymore but still I lay there.

Finally, I came to and lifted my head and looked around…nothing , nothing and nobody in sight anywhere around me so I got up, stripped then dove into the lake to wash the stink of fear from me. Never before and never again did I experience a fear so deep that I couldn’t move

Once I was hiking in a remote area we had to access by boat across a river. There were no roads on the far side of the river not even abandoned ones that had grown over were obvious. The whole area was very overgrown, which was not surprising given the difficulty to access.

While exploring trekking through the thick brush we came across a large hole in the ground. It was a perfect circle lined with concrete approximately 15–20’ diameter and from what we could see 15 or so feet deep… but the real depth is questionable because it had who knows how many years of leaves sticks, etc built up inside.

I don’t know what it was or why it was there, there was nothing else obviously man made anywhere nearby no sign of structures/buildings, etc. plus no roads, do it must have been there for a long time, materials must have been brought in by boat or perhaps horses?? But it was a lot of concrete, and a hole deep and wide enough that it would have taken a lot of time and effort to dig by hand, and lined with finished concrete??? Really no idea who what when or why. Maybe it’s a secret military silo, bunker, or something agricultural… really don’t know nothing really makes sense, it would have been a very bad day if someone fell in though.

What is the scariest thing you have come across while hiking or backpacking?

When I went up Angel’s Landing in Zion N.P., snow had already fallen and left ice in many of the footholds. I had asked a stranger to go with me to take a picture at the top, and he had gotten ahead of me. Otherwise, I might not have gone further.

Otherwise, the scariest encounters that I’ve had have been when a storm hit and I couldn’t reach a spot that I felt was truly safe from lightning.

I was walking back from town to my parent’s cabin in Big Bear Lake, and four dogs came boiling out of their yards, I was in the middle of the street, and approached me in a threatening manner. I was able to run three of them off by throwing snow and ice chunks at and near them, but there was one that would not budge. After I had called his bluff charges and threatening growls he moved off back into his yard. We had experienced trouble with packs of feral dogs in that area, because the residents did not fence their animals in all that well and some were even proud of what their little pets had done while they were gone.

Nearly stepped on a Rattler in the Utah Canyonlands a good 12-hour drive and 6 hour walk from Anti-Venom ….never been lost but I was a might confused for 24 hours following one blind Canyon after another on the same trip trying to find one that would get me back to the plateau where my car was parked.

I’m not afraid of any animal so no animal would startle me and I know what to do if I saw one that is dangerous, but for me, falling was the scariest. I have acrophobia (fear of heights) which my physician father diagnosed in me at about age 4. He loved to hike up a mountain and stand at the top and look out at the view and fast space. He tried to get me to go to him to look “over the edge” and I was terrified, he kept urging me on and I was crawling out to him and then when he told me to stand up, I climbed up, hanging on to his pant-leg for dear life.

Later, I understood about the phobia and took flying lessons to help combat the fear, and it did. But when I went up in a two seat (tandem) glider once with a friend, I was scared the whole time, I just didn’t trust those warm air thermals to hold us up! That aircraft engine gave me security. I overcame the phobia of heights enough to not let it stop me from hiking. I even went up in a very tall radio tower once with a friend who got special permission and the man in charge of maintenance let us ride up in the elevator with him to the top. I was terrified and got the giggles but suppressed it! I went up to the observation floor in the Empire State building but didn’t enjoy looking DOWN! I was mostly just testing myself. I have flown all over the world and enjoyed it, even was invited up to the cockpit years ago (today, since 9/11, they keep the cockpit door locked now. My greatest aviation thrill was flying in the Concorde (a Christmas present to me) in around 1973 and I knew everything to expect. I sat right behind the bulkhead where a display of instruments showed us altitude, etc. and yes, I could see the slight curvature of the earth but what I did NOT expect at all, was how dark and purple the sky was at mid-day up at 58,000 feet! I was surprised at that, no one had told me it’s really dark up there away from the earth! Since then, I’ve researched and understand it technically, but not then!

Oh my. I’ve seen many strange things. One in particular was an arrow stuck in a tree at a height of about 30 feet. It was a Tamarack and it’s cover was gone. I could only look at it and wonder what someone was shooting at that high up.

I am a solo hiker and I enjoy hiking with my dog windy. A week ago I was at my farm in a remote area. I was so bored, I asked the shepherd who works for me to take me on a new trail down the river. The boy is 17 years old and weighs just 50 kilos. He is quite experienced with the nearby wilderness. I am 59 years old and I weigh 92 kilos. In my mind, I thought I can always return if the trail turned out to be too dangerous.

In the beginning, it was OK, not so rough. We had to brush thorny wood plants to make our way and cross slippery stony ground covered with leaves. His younger brother who followed decided to take another path down to the river. The following are some photos from the trail.

Past this one dead tree, there was another dead tree but in better condition. At the end of the tree, I saw a slopped soft boulder with bushes around it. I grabbed a thick branch to step onto the boulder but it snapped like a biscuit and the ground under my feet gave way under my weight. I slipped on the soft boulder and landed on my back and right shoulder. A thorny bush prevented me from slipping any further.

I was badly hurt but I could move my right arm. I wanted to go back but I couldn’t. There was nothing to grab on the soft boulder to pull me up and I felt that half my power diminished. Apparently, I broke something. The shepherd told me to go down. There is no way up. I looked down beyond the bush that is holding me and I got scared. If that bush didn’t hold me, I could have fallen off a cliff to land at the bottom of a pine tree trunk. the cliff was about 2.5 to 3 meters deep. I could have broken my hip, elbows, or legs.

My only way was to go down sliding past the bush to land on the ground near the pine trunk. I used the branches of the spiky bush as ropes. I managed to reach the ground. Below the pine tree, there was a huge cliff about 20 meters deep.

The shepherd asked me to climb the pine tree to mount on another huge pine tree fallen making a natural bridge over a small valley. He demonstrated it. I just realized the big mistake. I followed the wrong guide. There is no way I will climb that tree to cross the natural bridge. At that point, I didn’t take any photos. My mind was focused on getting out. When I recover. I will give the shepherd my camera and ask him to go take some photos of the scene. It was stunningly beautiful.

My only way was to go back up. I used the branches of the spiky bush to climb back up onto the soft boulder. The shepherd managed to come back to the point where I slipped. With nothing to grab my left hand could reach the root of a tree barely exposed. I asked the shepherd to dig the soil around the root to make kind of a handle. He did. I had to move as high as possible to grab the root with my left hand and my feet against the top end of the bushes. I pulled as hard as I can to reach the tree trunk with my right hand. I did. I pulled myself up and he grabbed me to prevent me from falling back. We went back on the same route.

I suddenly realized that my dog's leash was in my pocket. I could have used it to get out. Too late now. We used it to climb back up. He tied the leash to a tree and I used it to pull myself up to higher grounds. We finally reached a safer route to realize that I lost my pocket full of money, identity, and credit cards. Omar, can you go back and find it? Now in addition to worrying about my health, I have to worry about recovering all these documents. Omar went back and half an hour later came back with my pocket. Of course, I gave him a reward.

My relative who is a surgeon arrived at my farm and called me to see if I am there. I told him that I am going back from a hike but never mentioned that I was injured. I was too proud to call anyone to come for help. I wanted to spare myself the sarcasm and humiliation.

I made it to the main road. The shepherd went back to my farm and drove my car to pick me up. At that point, I called my relative who took me to the hospital for an x-ray to discover that I have a broken rib.

I am currently healing. A broken rib is not fun; it is hard to stand up, sit down, or flip. Sneezing or coughing is forbidden. It takes six weeks to heel. Although I love hiking I don’t like extreme sports.

The problem was that I fell in the first drop-off I came across. There was no warning. The dangerous path revealed itself after I fell. When I feel better, I will send my drone to take footage of that beautiful place and update this post.

I learned a valuable lesson. From now on I will never hike alone even on safe routes. Nobody knows what could happen. Safety in numbers.

Few months ago I went with the same Shepherd to shoot photos and videos of that beautiful dangerous track. In one of the footage, my dog windy stood in the exact spot where I slipped and appear to be resisting the slippery ground.

For me it is thunderstorms. I’ve encountered bear and venomous snakes and had no problems with them at all. Thunderstorms on the other hand strike fear in my heart. When laying in my tent or hammock at night and I hear a distant rumble, my ears perk up. Is that a distant jet? Distant fireworks? Or a thunderstorm? If the latter, is it headed this way or will it miss us? If it is headed this way, how strong is it? My mind is racing.

When I make camp and there is a chance of thunderstorms in the forecast I won’t camp in open fields, elevated areas or near the tallest tree, even in a deep forest.

Early in my backpacking life I experienced a series of really bad thunderstorms in the Catskill Mountains. We were camped near the summit of Panther Mountain. I could hear a storm coming and it sounded like a bad one. The thunder was almost constant, meaning a lot of lightning. When it was about to hit I grabbed all of our cooking gear, any metal framed packs and moved them a few hundred feet from our camp.

My companions retreated into their tents. I was thinking I didn’t want to be in a tent with aluminum poles so put on my rain gear, grabbed my sleeping pad and found the nearby lowest area and squatted on my pad and sat out the storm and it was a severe one. The lightning was frequent and often very close. That flash/bang that tells you it was striking nearby was constant. My friends thought I was nuts.

The storm passed and we went to sleep, but a few hours later I was woken up by the sound of another severe storm and could tell by the direction it was coming from that it would hit us.

I started putting on my clothing and rain gear to head outside and my brother, who was in my tent saw me doing that and started doing the same. Then he asked “why are we doing this?’” I said I can’t be in a tent with aluminum poles and he said “You’re crazy” and went back to sleep. I rode out the second storm in the same spot where I rode out the previous one. The lightning sounded like an artillery barrage. My heart was racing. Then one of my friends looked out and saw me and came out with a bottle of brandy and said “Take a big hit”. I swallowed it as if it was a glass of water. Didn’t help.

Fast forward a few years and I was backpacking in the Adirondacks with my now ex-wife. We were camped a hundred yards or so off the the trail and next to a stream. When I heard a major T-storm approaching I started thinking aluminum poles and next to water and didn’t want to be inside that tent. Again I put on my rain gear and started walking. I walked back to the main trail in my rain gear and started walking along it and kept walking until the storm passed.

It was then that I realized that I forgot to bring a flashlight and couldn’t find the narrow animal path that led to our campsite. It was 3 am and I walked back down the trail to where I thought our camp was and no way was I finding that path in the dark. I started screaming my ex’s name and no response. I knew there was a trail shelter about a mile away and figured I would finish the night there, then realized that if my ex woke up the next morning and I was gone she would probably freak out.

So I kept screaming her name and eventually heard a faint, distant response. She was awake and wondering where I was. Thankfully I was able to follow her voice back to our campsite.

Another time I was backpacking with my friends and we were near another Catskill summit. It was mid afternoon and when I heard a storm approaching, I started running down the trail back to the car. I ran for about 10 minutes when the thought crossed my mind that the car was 8 miles away. By the time I arrived there the storm would be long gone and I would have to climb the mountain again. Sanity struck and I turned around and walked back to where my friends were and we waited out the storm together in our rain gear.

Obviously the scariest thing for me is thunderstorms.

I’m much older now and and I now camp in hammocks instead of ten

I think in this case, we were the “weirdos,” as the line in The Craft. I belonged to a Marine Cadet group, and though nominally we were Marines, we were led by active duty Army officers. We used to go out on weekends to a Boy Scout Camp Derrick owned by the state of New Jersey, in Monroe, and we went to the State Home for the Boys in Jamesburg to get the keys. This was a juvenile prison with guard towers and such. The two army officers said We better leave this behind, and the dashboard of their Land Rover was covered in knives, pistols and such. They came back and said, They told us to keep an eye out for two boys who escaped. They often go to Derrick to hide out.

A day later, we were all gearing up in front of a building, in camouflage, face paint, knives and guns, and the two boys walked up on us unexpectedly from a trail around back. They nervously said hello, and went on. We didn't rat them out, we figured they'd get hungry and go back to the Boy's Home, which they did.

The scariest scenario I encountered was on a February day in the White Mountains. The sun was out. Temperatures were inching up towards the freezing point. The trail was also quite icy.

As my friend and I approached the summit, we encountered an exposed scramble that was quite steep and very slick. I fiercely dug in with my traction, thinking that the scramble will not be fun at all to come down.

My friend had less trouble with the scramble. This did not surprise me. She is much taller than I am, and was often able to negotiate a lot of challenges that gave me trouble.

We had lunch on the summit, then began to head down. When we arrived at the scramble, I said that I could not go down it the way I came up. I would need to route around it. She understood, and watched patiently while I figured out my descent.

“Nicely done,” she shouted to me when I reached the bottom. “I can make this, just gonna take it slow.”

“Take all the time you need,” I responded. “I’m in no hurry.”

It was my turn to wait patiently. She slowly made her way down with small, conservative steps. Until I head her scream. She had fallen on her back and was now sliding, out of control, down the scramble, down the trail.

“S**t……s**t….s**t……s**t…...” she mumbled.

Her head was raised, staring straight ahead. She slid past me. Her expression was aghast. I was horrified.

“Nooo!!” said a voice in my head. I didn’t want to scream, I didn’t have the luxury doing so. She had to find a way to stop herself. The only thing I could do was not make matters worse by distracting her.

I turned down hill to follow her. We were not on a technical climb; neither one of us had ice axes. She slid further down the trail, away from the exposed section and back under the cover of pine trees. I watched as she took her poles and gripped them just above the baskets, plunging them in to the trail.

The ice gave way to snow. She dug in with her hands and feet….and stopped.

“Talk to me!” I shouted, as I hurried towards her. “Did you hit anything? Do you need dry clothes?”

She smiled at me, then mumbled a few choice expletives. She was fine.

“Well THAT is not exactly how I planned it,” she joked, flashing a wide grin.

We made our way back down. The rest of our hike was wonderfully boring. We arrived at the trail head and packed up our vehicles.

“Wanna get a beer?” I asked.

“Nah, the wife wants me home in time for dinner.” she explained. “Next time?”

“Next time!” I affirmed.

I exhaled sharply, and watched her exit the parking lot and pull on to the street.

I’m so glad there will be a “next time”.

Scariest: an explosion very close to where we were which was on a trail near an active gold mine, and where dynamite is often used, Problem is, our map indicated the mine was abandoned thus we had no idea we were going to be walking in a virtual mine field type setting. Oddly, this was a very remote region and we had not seen any other persons nor vehicles for 2 days, yet all of a sudden we hear KABOOOM from very close distance. So close by the ground rumbled under our feet.

Weirdest: driving around a bend on an old one-lane gravel and dirt mining road, which we were taking to get to a trailhead, and seeing in a meadow not too far from the road, a group of men and women in the buff/ nudists . None of them wearing anything. A sight fortunately that has left my mind’s eye …. not a bunch of fit folks but instead fat/obese. Weird to see this anywhere here in Alaska, especially on this remote road.

Once, hiking between my home in Castro Valley, [southeast S.F. Bay Area], CA and Walnut Creek, [northeast of the Bay], I stumbled upon a rural ranch property. My intention was to cut through it to the road system and proceed on that to my destination—a friend’s house in Walnut Creek. However, I spotted two young girls behind a barn smoking what smelled like m*****ana. The older of the two, she seemed about twelve, ran to an unknown destination. At the time I thought nothing of it and proceeded to continue on my way.

Coming upon the house, from which I could see the end of the road in a kind of courtyard, there suddenly emerged a very angry papa with a rifle! [My guess is that the girl had run to the house telling her daddy quite a story!] Papa, waving the rifle at me, made it clear I was to go back wherever I came from! I pointed to the road, but he wasn’t having it! So I back tracked a bit.

The moment he turned back towards the house, I ran towards a nearby trail, but was spotted as he turned back again!

He began to come towards the trail, still carrying that rifle, which I had great respect for! Now running up the trail, as soon as I was out of the line of sight, I jumped down off the trail, hiding under a huge bush, and taking off my sweatshirt, which was a quite visible red and blue! I could hear him but didn’t dare look! He turned and headed back toward the house right in front of that bush!

Summer of 1978 I went camping with the same three girlfriends I'd camped with for years; we'd mostly camped in Northern Los Padres National Forest, near Big Sur, Arroyo Seco, Palisades, Nacimiento-Ferguson Road areas, and hiked & LOVED them ALL; we'd decided to go north, check out Shasta! We'd done the whole Pacific Coast Trail the previous summer together, and decided we wanted a weekend at Shasta; so off we went! As always, NO MEN; it seemed it was a lot less trouble that way, no boyfriends!!

We got to a parking lot and camping area early Friday afternoon, got gear, food and equipment ready, then started hiking up; after more than two hours, we found a gorgeous meadow, little flowers growing, no ants or little critters that we could see: PERFECT!! Set up camp, ate dinner, then cracked a beer, juice, or soda and prepared for deep slumber, looking forward to a big hike after sunrise - we thought!

Sometime in the night, Susan woke me up, saying in a whisper, "There's something out there Cheryl, get your gun out!" Tammy and DiDi (Diane) were awake, wide-eyed, so I (being the supposed 'brave one') went out of the tent with my .38 and looked; what I saw was very dark, and it STUNK, and was much bigger than any bear I'd ever seen, plus it was walking upright, but just far enough away that I couldn't tell exactly what it was! We huddled in that tent for another about five minutes, some were crying, I had to figure out what to do! We could see & hear thru the tent this huge shadow grunting and almost roaring, DRAGGING something smaller, like a small deer, or...? They kept telling me to use my gun, but I told them, my little .38 S&W would be like a peashooter, would only p**s it off. I told the girls the plan, convinced them that whatever it was could easily have k****d us - I think it just wanted us off its mountain!! So I slowly unzipped the tent while it was in the back, then SHOVED the other three girls out, running after them; it was right on our tails!! Not being the quickest girl, I'm slow to start; once I get running, I actually gain speed (I was an athlete in schools, long-distance runner, trail runner - unlike them), paced myself, unlike the other three who were exhausted and slowed way down after the first half-mile or so, and I passed them, one by one; hey, I figured if that monstrous sucker caught anyone, it's gonna be the one that's last, and I'm NOT GONNA BE LAST!! I didn't ever look back either; I've watched those horror movies, every time a person looks back at their persuer, they get caught - plus, I did not want to see it, I was afraid of what I might see, and thought it might anger it more! I just kept yelling at the other girls to run faster, keep up, you can do this, we're almost there, etc...

After not slowing down even in the parking lot, I reached my car; what had taken me more than two hours up, was only about 20-30 minutes down that mountain! Winded, I opened the doors, then waited...and waited...finally, here they came! They jumped in, we locked the doors, and pulled the car over closer to the other cars, with people fast asleep in their camps; we feel asleep, huddled in our jackets and whatever things we could find in the old station wagon.

After sunrise we waited about an hour, and I convinced the others to come back up that mountain with me to gather MY camping gear; none being THEIRS, of course they balked - but they came, I had the keys. We looked at the area quickly, saw huge strange footprints and where something big WAS dragged round & round the tent! We didn't roll the tent up, nothing was put away as I usually wanted them clean and perfect and ready for next time; they were dirty and wadded up, and partly dragged down that mountain - quickly, as we were still very spooked. We stuffed it into the back of my car, then left, with other campers giving us the funniest looks - we said not a word, we just wanted GONE!!

We pulled out, and before I-5, there was a tiny cafe/store, so we went in for a quick breakfast. Sitting in the booth talking, two of the girls were very loud, even though me and the other tried to shush them. Eventually, some old man who was drinking a beer (mid-morning, I know...) came up and said he'd heard us, and could he talk to us. Okay we said, sure. He pulled up a chair and told us he was an Indian, from a tribe local to Shasta, and had grown up in the area. He asked us to tell him what happened and where we went, so we did. Then he told us this:
"Ever since I was a little boy, our elders have pounded it into us, to NEVER go up past the treeline, which is where you were. There have been times when kids are bad, or did not believe their elders, and sometimes once in a while, some of them haven't come back home. There have even been adults come up missing from that mountain too, and lots of White kids and adults, because they won't won't listen to us!!"
We bought him another beer, which he graciously accepted, finished up our meal, then headed back home, to Salinas Valley. I have never went back there, never will; I've driven past it on I-5 about 20 times over the years, each time I get chills and a little nausea.