Went on a canoe trip once in a very remote area. One of the days we were supposed to portage to a different lake, which went horribly in this terribly overgrown trail that was basically all mud.
Whatever, we get to the next lake and start looking for the next portage trail. Can’t find it, and it’s getting super windy so we decide to find a place to land. And what do we see at the top of this big cliff? A cabin. So we go for it.
Well, first thing we notice at the bottom of some very old steps is a massive pile of bones. Must’ve been deer and moose. Not too strange. We reach the top, and it’s clear we won’t be sleeping in the cabin — it’s locked up with metal bars over the door.
The door is open on the inside though, with a note nailed to it. Very old, but it explained that the owner was gone to some other lake, note signed 7 years prior to our arrival. Past that, we see the inside in a condition that was weirdly pristine. No bugs or animals inside, no vegetation, it was all just as he left it despite being open to the elements for years. His table was set for dinner, his old glass lanterns were filled with fuel and the place was very tidy.
Oh well we said, he definitely won’t be bothered by us staying here. We might be bothered to do so, however. The grass was so overgrown that it took 6 of us and a flipped over picnic table to flatten out space for our tents, and as soon as we were finished, we turned around and spotted this massive scythe on the roof or the cabin, again weirdly pristine. It should’ve been rusted beyond recognition by now. No use using it though, we already flattened the grass.
So we settle in for the evening, cook over the fire, looking out over this gorgeous lake from probably 50ft up. We go to bed early, and in the middle of the night, my tent mate and I wake up to a terrifying noise: something (or someone) is crashing through the bush, very slowly. We hear nothing but branches snapping and the heavy steps on the forest floor. It’s coming from behind the cabin. He asks if we should check it out and I’m really against that. I’m just hoping if we stay silent, whatever animal it is will leave.
It doesn’t. It comes into the clearing we’ve made, and we still don’t know what it is. There’s no huffing sounds, nothing you’d typically hear from a bear which was a massive relief, but we still had no idea what it was. It walks around our campsite for a while, seemingly walks towards the outhouse on the other end of this cliff, and we never hear it again. In the morning, everyone is freaked out. Everyone heard it, but there’s no tracks, there’s no fur, nothing. Well thank God it’s morning, let’s pack up and find that other portage.
We’re on our way out, and we notice that the cabin door is now shut entirely. You could still open it, but how did it get closed? Whatever, let’s just leave. We get to the bottom of the steps, and the pile of bones is 100% gone. No trace of them. Super spooky, ok let’s go faster.
Now, that whole situation seemed to be over, we had a great time fishing on the 4th lake we hit, and on the 2nd last day decided we’d return exactly the way we came. One guy in our group was really interested in the cabin, so we made one quick stop for him to go take photos and whatever else he wanted. Well, the door was now locked somehow, so he couldn’t get a picture of the inside. He took a beautiful photo from the open faced outhouse that overlooked the lake, he took a photo of the cabin and where we slept, then left his own note slipped underneath the door to thank the owner for letting us stay there.
We get to our next camp site, unpack, cook dinner, and he busts out his phone to show us the photos. Like I said, the view from the outhouse was actually really great, but we all noticed something right away in his next photo. The massive scythe that was on top of the roof wasn’t in these photos. It was gone. So during the night we were there something or someone made the bones of at least a few animals disappear, walked through our site, and disappeared on side with a cliff and no trees. The scythe was there when we left, but not on our return trip.
Never again will I go camping anywhere near those lakes. I don’t want to believe in the supernatural, but that had me convinced.