jhef's picture with all the eyes got me to thinking about something that I love talking about and hearing other people's stories about. What is the strangest, scaries, or weirdest thing you have either seen or experienced in the woods?
I have five stories. There was a similar thread on another website about a year ago and we had a lot of fun with them. God as my witness these are all true, and I would tell them straight faced to Jesus.
Here we go, my First Story:
Four years ago on a pitch black night in late March, right at the beginning of the crappie spawn, I was sitting on the bank casting jigs and dragging them back through a weed bed. Thirty or so yards to my right was the edge of the woods. Well, I was just sitting there fishing and enjoying the crisp night when I heard a stick crack back the thicket. I wasn't scared (yet), but it certainly got my attention. I continued fishing until I heard a couple more foot falls. At this point I reeled in my line, stood still and listened. It was just one or two steps at a time at first, then they became measured and continuous as if whatever it was had committed to its path and was coming to me. Now I'm past just paying attention to being all the way scared. When whatever it was got to what I could estimate was just about the edge of the thicket, I charged at it with arms raised and waiving and hollerin like a wild Indian and whatever it was took off and jumped in the lake! Satisfied with my own safety restored, I retreated/ran to the truck. To this day I don't know what it was. Best I can guess I'd say it was coyote, a deer, a beaver, or a redneck. All I know is we both scared the **** out of each other and I have found other places to fish.
Second Story:
This is a witch story. This didn't happen to me, but it did happen to my cousin. Two years ago, my cousin and two of his friends heard that there had been some witches spotted back in the woods behind a warehouse on the outskirts of town. They got to talking about it in class and someone dared my cousin and his buddies to camp out there one night the coming weekend. They accepted; and Friday evening they set out for the woods with no one thinking to check into getting permission from the landowner. They parked their trucks and walked about a quarter mile in to find a spot. They set up their tent and made a campfire just as the sun was beginning to set. So far so good. No witches, no werewolves, no crackheads, no nothing.
The evening continues just like any other camping trip. Telling stories, grilling hot dogs on a stick, you know. He said they were all sitting around the fire pit across from each other talking when all of a sudden his buddy sat straight up in his seat, pointed, and said in a stern, panicked whisper, "OH MY GOD! LOOK! Put out the fire! Put out the fire!" My cousin turned and to his horror, he saw in the distance a row of torches held in the air moving toward them through the woods. He slumped and thought, "Oh dear God, the witches! Is this really happening!?" Nearly paralyzed with fear, they scurried for the water jug and doused the fire. Now it is pitch black except for the torches. They laid flat on the ground and tried to decide whether they should run or hide or what. They heard the footsteps getting nearer and nearer until they were too close to make any silent escape. He said just as he was about to cry (6' 2" eighteen year old crying
), he heard, "Just what in the **** do you jackasses think you're doing?!" He said the deep southern accent and profanity sure didn't sound like what he expected a witch to sound like. Curious, they peeked their heads up. In front of them stood eight coon hunters who had seen the fire when they pulled up getting reading to run their dogs, headlamps a'blazin.
He said they explained what they were doing out there and how they had mistaken them for witches and their headlamps for torches. The coon hunters got such a kick out of it they let em go without calling the cops for trespassing or anything.
Third Story:
My dad grew up on a military base in Panama in the Panama Canal Zone right after the end of WW2. He came up hunting some of the wildest, most remote jungles and forests in the world, truly. He primarily hunted small pigs (can't remember what he called them). Whenever he'd go on a pig hunt, his mother would always warn him to watch out for the tulevieja (pronounced too-lay vee-ay-hah), which is basically a witch or an old reclusive woman that was said to live deep in the forest. Well, one day he was hunting in what he called the Interior. He was following some good pig sign when he came to a creek. As he waded through the warm, muddy water he suddenly felt chilled and tense. He looked up and 75 yards up the creek stood an old, nasty woman with long, matted hair. She was standing in the creek stark naked just staring at him. She didn't say a word. She just stared. After a few seconds of this, thoroughly rattled he called out, "Tulevieja?" She didn't answer, but she raised her hand and pointed her finger at him. He said with that, he high-tailed it out of the woods. He used to tell me that story every time we were going hunting when I was growing up. Got me goin every time. I dare every single one of you to whisper "Tulevieja" next time you walk to your stand in the dark.
Fourth Story:
My same cousin I wrote about in my second story was on an overnight hunting trip with some buddies and again, they were camping. They drove to the camping spot, but decided to sit in the truck for a while before getting out because it was cold. So they were just sitting there chatting when my cousin looked out his window and there was this old homeless looking guy standing not 5 inches from the window looking at him in the eye. He said he tried to holler, but no voice came out he was so startled. His buddy turned on the truck and took off, but couldn't go but about 10 yards cause the trail lead to a deep ditch. When they tried to back up, the SOB was standing right behind the truck. So they were stuck. Nearly in tears, they yelled at him, "What do you want?! Who are you? What the **** are you doing out here?!?!" They guy just stood there unshaken and replied, "I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch. I been sittin in da ditch." Everything he said he repeated at least 15 times. When they could tell he wasn't dangerous they got out and walked over to him and asked him his name he said, "Mah name John. Mah name John. Mah name John. Mah name John. Mah name John. Mah name John..." 15 times. Anyway, they go on with him with these simple questions for a while and finally figure out that the guy is in fact homeless and had been livin out in the woods in a lean-to he made out of some oak and cedar branches. They had pitched camp no more than 50 yards from his "house" and he'd been watching them the whole time. My cousin has been back to visit him out there a couple times since then and he swears he's a nice guy, just buck nuts crazy.
Fifth Story:
Although I do not own a Butt-Out tool, I have certainly purchased my share of hunting gimmicks and trinkets. This story is about one of these, the Primos 4-in-1 Hoot Flute. This is not scary, but it was for me at the time. It was turkey season and I set up at the base of a nice Hickory tree in the cold, predawn darkness. When I could barely make out light in the sky, I got out my brand new owl call to try to locate a gobbler I had seen in the area a few days earlier. I blew the call a couple times. Nothing. I waited about 5 minutes and blew it again, louder this time. Nothing. I got ready to blow it again and as soon as I put air into the flute, from no more than 5 feet above my head I heard loud as thunder, "hoo-hoo-tooHOO hoo-hoo toHOOOAHHH!" I squealed like a little girl, dropped the floot, and grabbed my shotgun. Apparently I had picked the same tree to sit under as a
real Barred Owl had chosen to roost in and he was making his
real morning call to his buddies across the forest. Scared me to death, but then I got a good laugh about it.
Alright those are my stories about being scared in the woods. They are all true as the Gospel.
Now please add your own !!!
Scared in the Woods
Toi this day I dont know if that owl was what knocket off my cap mor I did it. Scared the ba-gee-bees outa me and I got up and left them woods.
Longlining, Spider Rigging, and Nightstalking...Did I Miss Anything?!?
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