Weird Things found in the
Woods!
Woods!
The following is a collection of stories about things found while wondering through the woods. Although
no effort has been made to verify the authenticity of the stories, I have found them to be noteworthy
nonetheless. I hope you enjoy them!
no effort has been made to verify the authenticity of the stories, I have found them to be noteworthy
nonetheless. I hope you enjoy them!
.. . . . .In 1992 I first went to central Maine for a week of camping and to scout a new area for deer hunting. All of central Maine is
paper-company land, with vast lonely tracts and no settlements. Early in the morning on the second day I was making my way
along the north shore of a Lake and came across an old clearing about 200 yards up from a protected bay off the lake. I found
good deer sign so I sat down on the trail to see if a deer might come by. As I sat there I began to hear something that sounded like
a very faint drumbeat and with it a high, wail-like chanting & singing. It sounded like it was far far off. I heard it for a ½ hour. It was
calm where I was at, but windy outside the clearing. I got up and moved down the trail and I lost the noise. I went back to where I
was at and sat down again and after a minute the sound came back. I wrote it off as nothing significant and kept hunting. But that
night my curiosity was aroused. So I went back up there a couple of days later at sunset for my evening stand. This time it was
dead calm, and again, when I was outside the area there was no noise. But when I moved to the clearing, after a few minutes, I
could hear chanting again. There’s always snow on the ground for the Maine deer season and there were no other human tracks
other than mine for miles. The next 3 years I brought others with me to hunt in that area. Each year I’d go back to that place, and
each year my experience was the same. I’have never seen lights in the sky, I don’t hear voices in my head, I am not given to
religious ecstasy, and I have never been scared of werewolves, vampires, witches, or the dark. I’m a man of letters, and I’d like to
think there’s a logical explanation for everything! Life is pretty cut-and-dried, concrete-and-steel. There’s no mystery to the ways
of fish and game – just skill and luck. I never took anyone else to that spot for fear I’d stick my foot in my mouth and have to
explain something to fellow professionals that only I experienced. And besides, I’d like to think that some day I would come up with
a logical explanation for it. It’s been 12 years, and I still think back to that place. And it haunts me. I just can’t explain it away. This
is the first I’have talked about it other than to my wife and a couple of close friends…but the older I get, well, I just couldn't’t take a
story like that with me to my grave, now could I?!
paper-company land, with vast lonely tracts and no settlements. Early in the morning on the second day I was making my way
along the north shore of a Lake and came across an old clearing about 200 yards up from a protected bay off the lake. I found
good deer sign so I sat down on the trail to see if a deer might come by. As I sat there I began to hear something that sounded like
a very faint drumbeat and with it a high, wail-like chanting & singing. It sounded like it was far far off. I heard it for a ½ hour. It was
calm where I was at, but windy outside the clearing. I got up and moved down the trail and I lost the noise. I went back to where I
was at and sat down again and after a minute the sound came back. I wrote it off as nothing significant and kept hunting. But that
night my curiosity was aroused. So I went back up there a couple of days later at sunset for my evening stand. This time it was
dead calm, and again, when I was outside the area there was no noise. But when I moved to the clearing, after a few minutes, I
could hear chanting again. There’s always snow on the ground for the Maine deer season and there were no other human tracks
other than mine for miles. The next 3 years I brought others with me to hunt in that area. Each year I’d go back to that place, and
each year my experience was the same. I’have never seen lights in the sky, I don’t hear voices in my head, I am not given to
religious ecstasy, and I have never been scared of werewolves, vampires, witches, or the dark. I’m a man of letters, and I’d like to
think there’s a logical explanation for everything! Life is pretty cut-and-dried, concrete-and-steel. There’s no mystery to the ways
of fish and game – just skill and luck. I never took anyone else to that spot for fear I’d stick my foot in my mouth and have to
explain something to fellow professionals that only I experienced. And besides, I’d like to think that some day I would come up with
a logical explanation for it. It’s been 12 years, and I still think back to that place. And it haunts me. I just can’t explain it away. This
is the first I’have talked about it other than to my wife and a couple of close friends…but the older I get, well, I just couldn't’t take a
story like that with me to my grave, now could I?!
. . . In the mid-1960’s on my first real solo trip with my first gun – Winchester model 320 bolt .22 – I stumbled on a massive grass area (100
yards x 100 yards) trampled flat up in the rugged hills of Upper Michigan that run along the south shore of Lake Superior. The further I
went across it the more bear scat I came across until at last I couldn't’t step anywhere and avoid it. I could smell bear everywhere – it
totally scared me. Later I talked to a bear biologist who said it was a napping area where fattened black bears lounge in later summer. Too
close for comfort for a 12 year old!
yards x 100 yards) trampled flat up in the rugged hills of Upper Michigan that run along the south shore of Lake Superior. The further I
went across it the more bear scat I came across until at last I couldn't’t step anywhere and avoid it. I could smell bear everywhere – it
totally scared me. Later I talked to a bear biologist who said it was a napping area where fattened black bears lounge in later summer. Too
close for comfort for a 12 year old!
. . . One time I was hunting on a ranch that was just below the National Forest Boundary. It was just after first light and we were the only
ones that we knew about in the area. It was very cold and had snowed some a few days previously but it seemed the grass was still pretty
tall and dry. There wasn't any snow still on the ground where I was hunting. I came around a corner of some trees on the edge of a small
draw and there before me was a section of a large dead tree lying on the ground and it was totally ON FIRE! I mean this thing was
probably 30 feet long and about 3 feet in diameter. It was large enough that if it weren't totally engulfed in flames you could walk up and sit
on. There was no sign of how it had been ignited. It was burning full length and burning like crazy. What was so strange was that here, in
this big expanse of dried grass, only the grass about 18" all around it had been burned and blackened to the soil. How and why the entire
meadow wasn't on fire was beyond me! It was so strange that I went and found one of my nearby buddies and took him over and showed it
to him. It was so unusual that still to this day I remember seeing that and it's just as much a mystery to me now as it was then. There are
some things you see sometimes that'll stay with you forever. That was one I won't forget.
ones that we knew about in the area. It was very cold and had snowed some a few days previously but it seemed the grass was still pretty
tall and dry. There wasn't any snow still on the ground where I was hunting. I came around a corner of some trees on the edge of a small
draw and there before me was a section of a large dead tree lying on the ground and it was totally ON FIRE! I mean this thing was
probably 30 feet long and about 3 feet in diameter. It was large enough that if it weren't totally engulfed in flames you could walk up and sit
on. There was no sign of how it had been ignited. It was burning full length and burning like crazy. What was so strange was that here, in
this big expanse of dried grass, only the grass about 18" all around it had been burned and blackened to the soil. How and why the entire
meadow wasn't on fire was beyond me! It was so strange that I went and found one of my nearby buddies and took him over and showed it
to him. It was so unusual that still to this day I remember seeing that and it's just as much a mystery to me now as it was then. There are
some things you see sometimes that'll stay with you forever. That was one I won't forget.
. . . . .This happened about 20 years ago while on an elk hunt. About a mile from the road, I found a circle of fresh cornmeal on the ground.
It was about 8' in diameter and had symbols inside that I did not understand. ½ a mile further along, I was stepping out of a thicket and
came face to face with a very hairy tattooed man that was shirtless. At his feet where two army duffel bags, both stuffed full, one had a
machete attached to it.
Of course you know what I was thinking, however, after talking to him for about an hour, I believed his story. He was a Viet Nam war vet
that could not take living in the city and now lived somewhere up in the hills. He would not tell me where, however, told me to go to a
certain spot, give a yell and he would come out and visit. He admitted to making the cornmeal circles. Something about making a spiritual
connection with the Elk??
Once a month he made the hike out to the road to meet a family member that would re-supply him. He was hiking back in from one such
meeting, (hence full duffel bags). We became comfortable with each other, probably because of our common Viet Nam war service
connection. I asked his permission to hike further into his canyon. He agreed, since he was heading that way I offered to carry one of his
duffel bags. When he let me pick up the bag with the machete, I knew all was well. I made several hikes into this canyon and found places
where he would leave clothing. Even ran into a family member on the road one day leaving him supplies, however, I never did see him
again.
It was about 8' in diameter and had symbols inside that I did not understand. ½ a mile further along, I was stepping out of a thicket and
came face to face with a very hairy tattooed man that was shirtless. At his feet where two army duffel bags, both stuffed full, one had a
machete attached to it.
Of course you know what I was thinking, however, after talking to him for about an hour, I believed his story. He was a Viet Nam war vet
that could not take living in the city and now lived somewhere up in the hills. He would not tell me where, however, told me to go to a
certain spot, give a yell and he would come out and visit. He admitted to making the cornmeal circles. Something about making a spiritual
connection with the Elk??
Once a month he made the hike out to the road to meet a family member that would re-supply him. He was hiking back in from one such
meeting, (hence full duffel bags). We became comfortable with each other, probably because of our common Viet Nam war service
connection. I asked his permission to hike further into his canyon. He agreed, since he was heading that way I offered to carry one of his
duffel bags. When he let me pick up the bag with the machete, I knew all was well. I made several hikes into this canyon and found places
where he would leave clothing. Even ran into a family member on the road one day leaving him supplies, however, I never did see him
again.
. . . . A friend of mine lost a handmade knife given to him by his late grandfather. He had bumped up against something and must have
popped the sheath open. When my friend found he had lost the knife he spent a couple days looking for it before giving up. About 5
seasons later my dad walks into to camp carrying a knife with no sheath. He said he found it laying next to a tree. He set it on a camp table
and didn't think any more about it. My friend comes back to camp and sees the knife sitting on the table and just about breaks into tears.
We all wonder what the heck is going on until he tells us about the knife he lost years ago. It turns out my dad was in the right place at the
right time and found his lost knife
popped the sheath open. When my friend found he had lost the knife he spent a couple days looking for it before giving up. About 5
seasons later my dad walks into to camp carrying a knife with no sheath. He said he found it laying next to a tree. He set it on a camp table
and didn't think any more about it. My friend comes back to camp and sees the knife sitting on the table and just about breaks into tears.
We all wonder what the heck is going on until he tells us about the knife he lost years ago. It turns out my dad was in the right place at the
right time and found his lost knife
. . . . My stepfather was given a Seko watch, by my mother on their wedding day. He had a small, sport, crab pot line off the mouth of
Sandlake. After a long period of stormy weather he went to check the pots and one was sanded-in. He fought with it to no avail and
popped a pin on the band of his watch and to Davey Jones locker it went. Several days later he called a friend who was a scuba diver and
took him to the pot to try to dig it out for him. As the diver was digging in the sand he FOUND the watch...NOT running but it had run for
several days by the calendar. Talk about a needle in a haystack.
Sandlake. After a long period of stormy weather he went to check the pots and one was sanded-in. He fought with it to no avail and
popped a pin on the band of his watch and to Davey Jones locker it went. Several days later he called a friend who was a scuba diver and
took him to the pot to try to dig it out for him. As the diver was digging in the sand he FOUND the watch...NOT running but it had run for
several days by the calendar. Talk about a needle in a haystack.
. . . . It was about 15 years ago, and my girlfriend and I wanted to go camping for the weekend. We headed up the River. Well it got late and
we were tired so we decided to find an out of the way place and just sleep in the back of the truck. I found an old skid road and headed up
it to find that the road dead-ended. We thought it looked safe and parked. I got out of the truck and smelled the most awful smell that I
had every experienced. I grabbed a flash light and found that I had parked right in the middle of a poachers slaughter. There were
several deer, elk and even a couple cows. I didn't want any part of the situation. So we got out of there. On the way out ,there was a
younger girl standing the middle of the road waving me down. I stopped and she was acting very weird. I saw some other people just
inside the timber. I reached over for the pistol that was suppose to be on the seat next to me and could not find it. I just told the girl I
needed to go and started driving as she was still hanging on to the truck as I took off. As I was driving off, my girlfriend asked me how to
get this thing down I looked over and she had the gun cocked and ready. I am sure I would have gotten shot before anybody else, since
she had never shot a gun. We drove straight back to town and called the police. The police took me back up there to the scene, and that
was the last time I have ever been up that way. Weird things and people are not my cup of tea.
. . . . A couple years ago I was goose hunting by my lake. I decided that I needed to move the decoys a bit. While moving them I was looking
at the ground and my eyes picked out some letters. The object that the letters were on blended perfectly with the ground, I picked it up
and it said US on the front and had a picture of an eagle. On the back it said United States. It was a US Calvary brass button. There used to
be a sign on a road within sight of my house that said a skirmish between the Calvary and the Indians took place in the area.
at the ground and my eyes picked out some letters. The object that the letters were on blended perfectly with the ground, I picked it up
and it said US on the front and had a picture of an eagle. On the back it said United States. It was a US Calvary brass button. There used to
be a sign on a road within sight of my house that said a skirmish between the Calvary and the Indians took place in the area.
. . . . My dad has a mastodon tusk that I think he got in trade for some whiskey. Also an old nickel-plated Model 94 Winchester that was
acquired in the same way. Incredible things that you have the potential to find, if you only look in the right place
acquired in the same way. Incredible things that you have the potential to find, if you only look in the right place
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