Weird things in the woods
- Thread starter _WW_
- Start date
It's around 1992, no cell phones and only our trusty map for guidance. My friend Pete and I are out exploring looking for moving water. We're down somewhere between Mt. Rainier and Mt. adams.
We're many miles deep into these fire roads and we're talking about how it would really suck to breakdown and how long it would take to get back to the main road and hopefully find a car to help us etc etc.
A few miles later we're driving really close to the creek/river and we come across a lady who's probably 45 and her 20ish year old son. They had their camp set up and it looked like they have been living there for quite some time. We politely stopped and talked for a minute, they were strange folks and just trying to converse with them was challenging. It was an odd creepy scenario and we got out of there pretty quick.
End of story.
We're many miles deep into these fire roads and we're talking about how it would really suck to breakdown and how long it would take to get back to the main road and hopefully find a car to help us etc etc.
A few miles later we're driving really close to the creek/river and we come across a lady who's probably 45 and her 20ish year old son. They had their camp set up and it looked like they have been living there for quite some time. We politely stopped and talked for a minute, they were strange folks and just trying to converse with them was challenging. It was an odd creepy scenario and we got out of there pretty quick.
End of story.
A bunch of friends and I were camping/partying up the South fork Nooksack at Cavanaugh creek back in the 70's.
We had all the necessary accessories needed for a good old fashioned mind blowing weekend.
The South fork was really low as it was during the dog days of summer that we thought would never end.
Is that from a song?
One could drive logging roads from Larson's bridge on the Skagit/hwy 20 side of the SF Nooksack and by crossing the river 7 times come out at Skookum creek at Saxon upriver from Acme.
Well, during the day we were well on the way to getting liquored up and loaded on other various mind altering substances when along comes a jeep that crossed the river and drove into our campsite.
Well, it was a couple good ole boy redneck tarheels from Skagit county.
We were feeling no pain by then and exchanged pleasantries with them.
Then things got interesting. Redneck jeep driver #1 reaches under the seat and pulls out a sawed off double barrel shot gun.
He says "This is for hippies! You know the kind we mean!"
Talk about a buzzkill, holy shit scared the beejesus out of our mellow peace loving gathering.
Someone replied " Oh yes sir we know the kind you mean and it's definitely
not us."
Red neck driver slobbbers over his chew and says "Good, that's what we wanted to hear."
With that they motored on down the trail and our gathering breathed a collective sigh of relief and the party carried on.
Ahh the memories.
We had all the necessary accessories needed for a good old fashioned mind blowing weekend.
The South fork was really low as it was during the dog days of summer that we thought would never end.
Is that from a song?One could drive logging roads from Larson's bridge on the Skagit/hwy 20 side of the SF Nooksack and by crossing the river 7 times come out at Skookum creek at Saxon upriver from Acme.
Well, during the day we were well on the way to getting liquored up and loaded on other various mind altering substances when along comes a jeep that crossed the river and drove into our campsite.
Well, it was a couple good ole boy redneck tarheels from Skagit county.
We were feeling no pain by then and exchanged pleasantries with them.
Then things got interesting. Redneck jeep driver #1 reaches under the seat and pulls out a sawed off double barrel shot gun.
He says "This is for hippies! You know the kind we mean!"
Talk about a buzzkill, holy shit scared the beejesus out of our mellow peace loving gathering.
Someone replied " Oh yes sir we know the kind you mean and it's definitely
not us."
Red neck driver slobbbers over his chew and says "Good, that's what we wanted to hear."
With that they motored on down the trail and our gathering breathed a collective sigh of relief and the party carried on.
Ahh the memories.
Last edited:
We were running this survey line west to east between two 1/16 corners on the Forest service boundary at the Walla Walla Watershed. We'd crossed the ridge and were traversing across the side hill in the brush when we started to notice rocks coming down. After a couple stations, we were near the east point indicated. In here we realized we were now being targeted with rocks coming in head high. There was a fowl smell, wet dog, urine, poop, BO, just putrid. Then looking uphill we both caught a glimpse of what we were sure was bigfoot. Grabbed gear quick and headed down over the basalt cliffs to the river and the road. We had to walk back around to the road by where we started.
I was backpacking in the Cascades with my Mom about 10 years ago. We had a hell of a long hike into a lake that the trail crew hadn’t cleared in what looked like in years. So we were crossing creeks climbing over blowdowns and huffing and puffing.
Anyway, we make it and get our camp setup and walk over to the lake, so my mom could sit in her chair and read and I would start fishing. About a half hour of these activities go by with a light breeze happening, then we both hear a sound coming off the mountain. The only way I can explain it is, it sounded like a tribe of Native Americans chanting around a fire… My mom of course swears she heard Bigfoot
I have no idea what it was, but it was loud and there were no tracks on the way in and there was no one around…
Needles to say, that was one of the spookiest nights in the woods I’ve ever had.
Anyway, we make it and get our camp setup and walk over to the lake, so my mom could sit in her chair and read and I would start fishing. About a half hour of these activities go by with a light breeze happening, then we both hear a sound coming off the mountain. The only way I can explain it is, it sounded like a tribe of Native Americans chanting around a fire… My mom of course swears she heard Bigfoot
I have no idea what it was, but it was loud and there were no tracks on the way in and there was no one around… Needles to say, that was one of the spookiest nights in the woods I’ve ever had.
Hiking across the Bailey Range Traverse in the Olympic Mountains, days from where any trail has ever been cut, we came across a pioneer cast iron stove/oven combination. There was no way a horse or donkey could have gotten to where we were, and even in the 1950s when Herb Crissler shot a documentary about Roosevelt Elk in the area he had to send film out via carrier pigeon.
No cabin, no signs of settlers or clearing of land, just a cast iron stove/oven.
The folks of yesteryear were made of sterner stuff. Here we were bitching about 50lb packs, and someone lugged in 400lbs of iron.
No cabin, no signs of settlers or clearing of land, just a cast iron stove/oven.
The folks of yesteryear were made of sterner stuff. Here we were bitching about 50lb packs, and someone lugged in 400lbs of iron.
Maybe Huelsdonk hauled it there… he did things like that.
Huelsdonk, John (1866-1946) and Dora (1863-1947)
John Huelsdonk and his wife, Dora (Wolff) Huelsdonk, were the first settlers on the Hoh River and the Olympic Peninsula's most famous pioneers. Huelsdonk's homestead, claimed in 1891, was on the west
www.historylink.org
I remember finding a Playboy in the woods when I was 12 years old. I sort of half-buried it and visited it often. It's probably still in that exact spot. That magazine taught me so much about life.
Maybe Huelsdonk hauled it there… he did things like that.
Huelsdonk, John (1866-1946) and Dora (1863-1947)
John Huelsdonk and his wife, Dora (Wolff) Huelsdonk, were the first settlers on the Hoh River and the Olympic Peninsula's most famous pioneers. Huelsdonk's homestead, claimed in 1891, was on the west
Very cool read.
Fascinating. Thank you!Maybe Huelsdonk hauled it there… he did things like that.
Huelsdonk, John (1866-1946) and Dora (1863-1947)
John Huelsdonk and his wife, Dora (Wolff) Huelsdonk, were the first settlers on the Hoh River and the Olympic Peninsula's most famous pioneers. Huelsdonk's homestead, claimed in 1891, was on the west
Finding skin mags in the woods, often a box of them. The millenial/genx male rite of passage.
Can confirm.
Don't tell my boss, but I once spent roughly two weeks worth of work reading that entire thread - which at the time I found it was something like 63 pages long.
I remember a backpacking trip up the Queets with my cousin, older brother, and dad when I was around 15 or 16. The main road to the trailhead was washed out all summer, but my dad knew how to access an area where we could park, wade across the river, and catch the trail on the other side. Because of this there was zero traffic on the trail that summer, and it had not been maintained at all.
Maybe 12 miles up the trail, on a week long trip, we stopped for a break. The river wasn't far so we all went down to fill water bottles. My older brother and I both kinda wandered off downstream and came onto this big alder flat where we discovered a camp. It clearly hadn't been used in a long time, everything was covered in old pine needles and debris. There was a small, high quality tent, a really nice sleeping bag, a backpack, some pots and pans and random stuff etc. Not remotely visible from the trail, someone went to great length to set up camp there out of eyesight. It was eerie.
On our way back down a week later we stopped back by and everything was still there untouched. If I recall my brother packed out the sleeping bag and the backpack.
Always wondered what the story was with that camp.
Maybe 12 miles up the trail, on a week long trip, we stopped for a break. The river wasn't far so we all went down to fill water bottles. My older brother and I both kinda wandered off downstream and came onto this big alder flat where we discovered a camp. It clearly hadn't been used in a long time, everything was covered in old pine needles and debris. There was a small, high quality tent, a really nice sleeping bag, a backpack, some pots and pans and random stuff etc. Not remotely visible from the trail, someone went to great length to set up camp there out of eyesight. It was eerie.
On our way back down a week later we stopped back by and everything was still there untouched. If I recall my brother packed out the sleeping bag and the backpack.
Always wondered what the story was with that camp.
Mick Dodge type perhaps?
During the late 1970s and early 1980s here in the North Puget Sound area we would occasionally hear reports of "trip-wire vets" living in the wild. They were Veit Nam vets who had dropped out of society to live in the wild.
Once while explore a remote stream in the area I re-visited a stream section that had produced some good fishing the week before. Over the first couple miles the only foot prints I saw were mine own. Then by one pool I noticed footprints but saw none above. On the way back down I stopped at those prints to look around. Noticed at the brush line one of the bushes had dead leaves. As I investigated found the bush had been cut and was hiding a trail leading deeper into the woods. Fifty yards or so into the woods it opened into a large clearing. I stopped at the edge to look around, sure enough on the other side of the clearing there was a slight wisp of smoke. I had that tingling feeling I was being watch so I eased back to the river replacing the bush. I'm sure I had stumbled on a vet's path to retrieve water from the stream and quickly decide it was best to respect his privacy and was probably wise for my safety.
That was the second such encounter with that type of camp. When I returned to either area I made sure to give anyone that might be there the space they were looking for. I sometimes wonder what became of them and if they were ever able to re-enter society while also giving them thanks for their service.
Curt
Once while explore a remote stream in the area I re-visited a stream section that had produced some good fishing the week before. Over the first couple miles the only foot prints I saw were mine own. Then by one pool I noticed footprints but saw none above. On the way back down I stopped at those prints to look around. Noticed at the brush line one of the bushes had dead leaves. As I investigated found the bush had been cut and was hiding a trail leading deeper into the woods. Fifty yards or so into the woods it opened into a large clearing. I stopped at the edge to look around, sure enough on the other side of the clearing there was a slight wisp of smoke. I had that tingling feeling I was being watch so I eased back to the river replacing the bush. I'm sure I had stumbled on a vet's path to retrieve water from the stream and quickly decide it was best to respect his privacy and was probably wise for my safety.
That was the second such encounter with that type of camp. When I returned to either area I made sure to give anyone that might be there the space they were looking for. I sometimes wonder what became of them and if they were ever able to re-enter society while also giving them thanks for their service.
Curt
First thing that came to my mind too.Maybe Huelsdonk hauled it there… he did things like that.
Huelsdonk, John (1866-1946) and Dora (1863-1947)
John Huelsdonk and his wife, Dora (Wolff) Huelsdonk, were the first settlers on the Hoh River and the Olympic Peninsula's most famous pioneers. Huelsdonk's homestead, claimed in 1891, was on the west
The Iron man of the Hoh.
The same thing happened to me at about the same age, but I brought the magazine home.
