Alright, so this is gonna be a pretty long story but bear with me. I did change names for privacy. Also, fun fact: this story doubles as the tale of how I met my fiancé – but let’s move on.
So, this entire ordeal took place around August 2017 (give or take), when I was 16 years old. A couple of months before, at the beginning of summer break, my mom unfortunately lost her battle with breast cancer. I’m an only child, so growing up I was really close to my mom; she also had a wonderful marriage with my dad. After she passed away, both Dad and I were absolutely wrecked by the loss. Sure, we’d had some time to brace ourselves, her health had been slowly deteriorating for quite a while, but that didn’t make it any less excruciating when the day finally came. Once Mom’s funeral wrapped up, Dad and I stayed cooped up at home pretty much every day for a while. Having just wrapped up my sophomore year in high school, I only had a small circle of friends, who I gradually started ignoring over the summer months.
During those days, Dad and I barely spoke to each other. There was this crazy tension between us that we couldn’t shake, even though neither of us really made any effort to talk through it all either. About two weeks in, Dad gradually returned to work while I remained isolated in the sanctuary of my bedroom.
As summer vacation drew to a close, Dad began to grow increasingly concerned about my reclusive tendencies; after all, who wouldn’t grow worried seeing their child spend their days locked away in their room? His only reprieves from his concern were when my door would creak open for chores, mealtime, or the bathroom. In an attempt to help us reconnect, Dad suggested a good ol’ camping trip, something our family had always loved doing together. I decided to give it a shot, figuring it’d be nothing more than a night or two at our usual wilderness retreat.
We lived in the Pacific Northwest, which was abundant with beautiful camping spots; in fact, our go-to option wasn’t too far from home. And so, on a sunny afternoon, we departed around noon and arrived at our beloved campground around 2 pm. Like clockwork, we rolled into our regular camping spot as we had so many times before. However, before settling down for the night, we had to check in at a quaint ranger cabin where you paid $10 to park your car. Our campsite was nestled about 600 ft away, and though it wasn’t located right beside the lake, its close proximity made for an enjoyable experience nonetheless.
For context, the campground featured campsites situated quite close to each other, with only a sparse line of trees separating each one. You could easily spot cars and large tents through these thinly spread trees. When we arrived, we noticed the adjacent campsite was already occupied by an RV, much to my dad’s dismay, as they tended to play music and be noisier at night. The campground sits right by a vast lake, which served as our primary source of food due to the abundance of fish. Consequently, we didn’t need to pack much food for the trip.
A short distance away, across the road and down a slightly rocky decline, there was a small pebble beach that granted full access to the lake; you could even catch a glimpse of the water from our campsite. Strolling down the shoreline would reveal more charming pebble bays. In fact, whenever my parents swam in the past, they preferred to choose a secluded pebble bay free from crowds for their dip (I’ve personally had an aversion to large bodies of water and swimming ever since I can remember).
Sometime around 5 pm, my dad and I headed down to the main pebble beach. Its descent was fairly steep and scattered with rocks that could easily trip someone up and cause scrapes and bruises. We managed to catch three fish before scaling the incline back towards our campsite. Once there, my dad asked if I could gut and fillet the fish – a task I agreed to take on. The knife I used turned out to be sharper than I anticipated and accidentally sliced into my lower palm. Unfortunately, we hadn’t packed any bandages or other first-aid supplies. Reluctant to ask our RV neighbors for medical supplies due to my anxiety-riddled teenage self, my dad stepped up and went over to seek their assistance.
As it turns out, an older couple was staying at the RV site, and they couldn’t have been more gracious. After handing my dad an entire box of band-aids (they claimed to have too many), I tended to my wound and tried to put the incident behind me. The rest of the evening followed a rather uneventful but pleasant script – we enjoyed our meal and played poker for a few hours before calling it a night.
The next morning, I didn’t wake up quite as early as my dad did. When I emerged from the tent, I found him cooking up some potatoes and bacon on a griddle over the fire. He was engaged in conversation with the friendly elderly couple we’d met the previous day, along with a boy who seemed to be around my age and was busy typing on his phone. Following an initially awkward introduction, I discovered that this boy – let’s call him Lee – was staying with his grandparents at the campsite. As we all sat down to enjoy breakfast together, Lee and I struck up a conversation. He turned out to be pretty funny.
We spent the entire morning together, and at some point, my dad mentioned how great it was for me to have a new friend. To be honest, it annoyed me a bit (more embarrassment than anything), so I decided to take some distance from my dad and asked Lee if he’d like to catch Bass for lunch. He was up for it, so we grabbed our fishing gear and followed the same short trail we had taken the day before to reach the rocky bay. When we arrived, we noticed other families enjoying themselves, swimming and playing. There was this one kid with his sister - I assume - building a rock tower, the kind that people use as trail markers.
We fished for approximately an hour with me doing most of the work (as Lee had never fished before). We managed to catch two fish - not much, but enough for lunch. As we left the area, the siblings were still working on their rock tower. It wasn’t huge or anything but about three feet tall, made out of large rocks that would stand sturdily against the wind.
After hiking back up, we continued chilling together for a few more hours. Around eight in the evening, Lee asked if I’d like to go swimming during sunset. Truthfully, I was scared of swimming in that lake but didn’t want to pass up on hanging out with him any longer, so I agreed. We put on our swimsuits and brought along t-shirts to keep warm after leaving the water. I also brought my pack of cigarettes and lighter (mostly to impress Lee).
As we headed off on our little adventure, my dad was relaxing on a towel near the fireplace engrossed in a book. I let him know that we were going for a swim at the bay and would be back in about an hour or so. He advised us to be careful and enjoy our time.
By this point, it was beginning to get darker, but it was still light enough for us to see our path and directions. The forest, however, was turning into a blend of shadows and mystery. We followed the exact same trail we’d taken before to reach the beach.
Upon reaching the beach, I glanced to my left and noticed the rock tower from earlier had vanished without a trace. There were no rocks piled up in that spot - the ground lay flat as if there had never been a tower. Someone must have scattered the rocks haphazardly. Both Lee and I saw this anomaly but remained silent regarding the toppled tower.
We hung out at the main beach for a short while, and then it struck me that I could show off to Lee with my cool little cigarettes. But, I didn’t want my dad to find out, so I suggested we go to a more secluded beach nearby. Lee agreed, and we strolled along the shore for about 100ft. Although the campgrounds were never more than 1000ft away during our walk, navigating the somewhat steep bank proved slightly challenging. Eventually, we discovered a smaller beach surrounded by a dense forest. Cutting through the woods would mean crossing roughly 300ft before reaching a campsite. I was confident about our location and knew we wouldn’t get lost.
At the secluded beach, I took out my cigarettes, lit one up, and passed it to Lee. We chatted for about twenty minutes as he took a drag and I tried my best not to cough – an attempt to appear cool. Afterward, I left the lighter and cigarette carton on a rock next to both our shirts. By this time, darkness was settling in, making it difficult to see the stars.
The eerie lake was formed over an abandoned town – a fact that has always terrified me (and still does). So when Lee enthusiastically removed his shirt and jumped into the water for a swim, I hesitated but eventually joined him despite the water being way too cold.
We swam for roughly half an hour before boredom started kicking in. When we climbed out of the water, our shirts had vanished. Strangely enough, my cigarettes and lighter were still there. We hadn’t noticed anyone nearby while swimming and there was no wind either; just like that, our shirts were gone. Desperation prompted us to search using only the dim light of my cigarette lighter, but we found nothing.
Then we heard it – an odd, deafening groan that didn’t resemble any bird or bobcat I knew. It was more akin to a guttural scream, unlike the familiar cougar cries some people would attribute such sounds to. Lee and I were petrified, and without a second thought, we sprinted along the beach with the frightful noise growing louder. Visibility was minimal at this point; we relied on the faint starlight to illuminate the ground.
As we reached the main beach, all seemed as we’d left it earlier. Out of breath, we raced up the incline towards our campsite, which should have been merely 400ft away since we had sprinted roughly 600ft from where we were swimming. The sound, or growl, was so intense that I was sure everyone in the camp would hear it. Yet, Lee and I remained silent as we rushed up the slope, continuously glancing back to ensure nothing was chasing us. But we didn’t see anything throughout our nerve-wracking escape.
After both of us painstakingly climbed the hill, scraping our hands and knees on the rocks, we sprinted towards the campsite. I’m certain we didn’t make any wrong turns. Despite running about 600ft, the camp just wasn’t there.
We found ourselves in the heart of the forest, surrounded by trees with soft ground beneath us, as though it hadn’t been tread on for ages. I could hear Lee sobbing, and I was on the verge of tears myself.
The mysterious figure or creature behind us kept getting louder, or close, so we dashed away from the ominous sounds as far as our legs could carry us. Lee trailed right behind me, hoping I knew an alternate route back to camp. As the grunts closed in on us, I fought the urge to glance back, knowing that doing so would have caused me to collide with a tree at our breakneck pace. We continued running until the eerie sounds faded into the distance. Exhausted, cold, and drenched in sweat, we stopped to catch our breaths and leaned against a tree for support.
Neither of us spoke, too frightened to make even the slightest noise that might attract whatever was pursuing us.
We remained in place until we could no longer hear those menacing groans. At that moment, it hit us that we were just two shirtless teenagers sitting in the middle of the woods, crying our eyes out and looking utterly maniacal.
Finding ourselves too drained to run any further, we began walking with weary steps, whispering softly to each other, we confirmed that neither of us knew what had transpired or where on earth we were.
We must’ve strolled for roughly an hour when it occurred to us that it was likely around 10:30 pm or later. Overwhelmed with fear yet determined to return to camp or find some helpful souls nearby.
Having walked at least three miles by then, we spotted a road in the distance and followed it until we stumbled upon a ranger station. Though empty, I quickly realized it was the very station where we paid entry fees for the camp. Located on the opposite side of the lake, we decided to rest there for a bit. Then, I escorted Lee back to our campsite.
Upon our return, everything appeared unaltered—the fire still crackled where my dad had been sitting. Lee clung closely to my arm as we approached our campsite. getting closer, I saw my dad in the exact same spot he’d been when we left, with his book still open on his lap. Since it wasn’t particularly long, I figured he should have finished reading by now. As soon as he saw us, his shocked expression startled me; I assumed it was due to our odd entry route. But what he said next will forever be etched in my memory—and I despise it so deeply:
“Are you back so soon? Have you even gone in yet?”
I was on the verge of losing it. He informed us that it was merely 9:00, and we had only been gone for about 30 minutes. I attempted to describe the bizarre events that had transpired, but I abandoned my efforts after asking if he had heard anything peculiar. He stared at us as if we had lost our minds.
There was no way I could sleep in the tent, wanting to be as far away from the ground and the forest as possible. Thankfully, Lee suggested that we both sleep in the RV’s fold-out bed.
The following morning, we awoke and discussed everything, none of which made any logical sense. Our memories of the prior night were identical. After having breakfast together, we proceeded to pack up our separate campsites around 11:00 am. We exchanged phone numbers and bid each other farewell.
To this day, my father remains skeptical about our experience that night. As for Lee and me, we have since become engaged and frequently reminisce about what might have transpired during those mysterious hours. Upon returning home, I made sure to write everything down in a journal, which I’ve consulted while writing this account to ensure it remains consistent over time.
It’s still unclear what happened on that unforgettable night, but all I know is that were never going back.