creepy story

[buzzsawBeaver 12]

when you have time, read if you like a good, creepy story.

Having explored the beacon cave here in bluefield myself, I can appreciate how scary a place a cave like this could be in such a situation

 

http://www.angelfire.com/trek/caver/page1.html

 

a photo from the story, scary enough for me

 

[Bluefield_Rules 46]

when you have time, read if you like a good, creepy story.

Having explored the beacon cave here in bluefield myself, I can appreciate how scary a place a cave like this could be in such a situation

 

http://www.angelfire.com/trek/caver/page1.html

 

a photo from the story, scary enough for me

 

 

Just looking at that pictures freaks me out...

[Guest BEAVERTAIL]

Having explored the beacon cave here in bluefield myself

 

Didnt someone get stuck in that cave a few years back?

[Lance 228]

Thats a great story...how did you find that? I love stuff like that...

[total 12]

it's not real... it's a fictional short novel... I read it and then did some google'n

[Lance 228]

yeah figured it wasn't real by the time I got to the end...still a good story though...pretty cool...i like stuff like that.

[buzzsawBeaver 12]

It's actually a short fictional story that someone who actually caves and had cave photos used to make into the site and changed the other writer's ending by basically just leaving the ending out as to suggest "never returned from the cave". It's a fun read is all.

It was on a gun message board recently, I thought to post it here, I enjoy scary stories to.

 

I'll post another this evening that's based on a real account from teddy roosevelt's book "the wilderness hunter".

 

But there's been a few people get stuck or lost in the beacon cave in it's time, it's very extensive and has a lot of corridors, and the local rescue squad has extensive mapping of it for search and rescue. Heck I was sitting in a dentist office at ft. bragg in '97 reading a u.s. today and the wv news was of someone I know, mike sowder, being rescued from the beacon cave after being lost in it.

 

I looked up the floyd guy from the cave story that they named "floyd's tomb" after, on wipipedia or whatever it is, what a way to go.

[Guest BEAVERTAIL]

 

Heck I was sitting in a dentist office at ft. bragg in '97 reading a u.s. today and the wv news was of someone I know, mike sowder, being rescued from the beacon cave after being lost in it.

 

Thats my uncle. lol.

[bluefieldRocks 14]

It's actually a short fictional story that someone who actually caves and had cave photos used to make into the site and changed the other writer's ending by basically just leaving the ending out as to suggest "never returned from the cave". It's a fun read is all.

It was on a gun message board recently, I thought to post it here, I enjoy scary stories to.

 

I'll post another this evening that's based on a real account from teddy roosevelt's book "the wilderness hunter".

 

But there's been a few people get stuck or lost in the beacon cave in it's time, it's very extensive and has a lot of corridors, and the local rescue squad has extensive mapping of it for search and rescue. Heck I was sitting in a dentist office at ft. bragg in '97 reading a u.s. today and the wv news was of someone I know, mike sowder, being rescued from the beacon cave after being lost in it.

 

I looked up the floyd guy from the cave story that they named "floyd's tomb" after, on wipipedia or whatever it is, what a way to go.

 

 

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha....that sucks by the way. Luckily, i'd never be able to fit in it to begin with!

[Deleted Account 5,203]

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha....that sucks by the way. Luckily, i'd never be able to fit in it to begin with!

 

Makes two of us!

[buzzsawBeaver 12]

Thats my uncle. lol.

 

That is humorous.

I know all the sowders from growing up, they went to a different elementary but they all played baseball in the youth leagues. Did he ever tell you about being lost in that cave?

[Guest BEAVERTAIL]

No he never has, but one day I found the newspaper article and asked my dad about it. I can only imagine my grandparents shock and horror.

 

He was in last weekend, but left on Monday unfortunately, Ill ask when he comes back in, I want to hear the story lol.

[Lance 228]

 

I'll post another this evening that's based on a real account from teddy roosevelt's book "the wilderness hunter".

 

 

where is the other story lol

[buzzsawBeaver 12]

small world I know your grandparents to.

I actually recall seeing the news story about it to, 1 of the 1st things he asked for after he got out of the cave was a cigarette.

[buzzsawBeaver 12]

This is 1 of my favorites, I actually might have posted it on swvafootball a few years ago, can't really recall. There isn't much doubt that the incident actually happened, but what it actually was in the story is for people to draw conclusions for themselves, personally I believe it was what the story suggests and what the trapper at the end thought it was.

 

I had this story on my mind 1 night when me and 1 of my dogs, bear, slept way up on a mountain in the forrest in Holy Cross wilderness in Colorado, just us, back in '02 and it had me sort of spooked. But it's a fun story.

 

 

Presidential frontiersmen "Rough-rider" Teddy Roosevelt began writing his soon to be published book in 1890. Titled The Wilderness Hunter, the author writes of a grizzled, weather beaten trapper by the name of Bauman, whose figure of a man reminded me of actor Robert Redford's portrayal of the legendary woodsman-tracker Jeremiah Johnson. Bauman however was German born, lived all of his life out on the early frontier. Roosevelt must have had some degree of belief in Bauman's tale to include his thoughts in his book.

 

One of Idaho's best known horror stories, it tells the story of two trappers who set out on a beaver hunt in the still remote alpine terrain of the beautiful Salmon River countryside. This portion of the Salmon River is located in the Bitterroot Mountains between the state of Idaho and Montana. To this day, stories of the Sasquatch come out of this part of this virgin wilderness. Roosevelt wrote that the previous year a trapper's body had been found torn to bits and partially eaten by an "unknown beast, which left enormous human foot tracks in its wake." [bears do not leave human footprints; overlapping bear tracks upon one another can be differentiated.]

 

Oblivious to what should have been a warning to the senses, these two men journeyed deep into the wilderness' remote regions, moving campsites from one creek to another in search of satisfactory places in which to place their beaver traps. Here is that famous excerpt about Bauman from Roosevelt's book:

 

 

 

"Frontiersmen are not, as a rule, apt to be very superstitious. They lead lives too hard and practical, and have too little imagination in things spiritual and supernatural. I have heard but few ghost stories while living on the frontier, and those few were of a perfectly commonplace and conventional type. But I once listened to a goblin-story, which rather impressed me.

A grizzled, weather beaten old mountain hunter, named Bauman who, born and had passed all of his life on the Frontier, told it the story to me. He must have believed what he said, for he could hardly repress a shudder at certain points of the tale; but he was of German ancestry, and in childhood had doubtless been saturated with all kinds of ghost and goblin lore. So that many fearsome superstitions were latent in his mind; besides, he knew well the stories told by the Indian medicine men in their winter camps, of the snow-walkers, and the specters, [spirits, ghosts & apparitions] the formless evil beings that haunt the forest depths, and dog and waylay the lonely wanderer who after nightfall passes through the regions where they lurk. It may be that when overcome by the horror of the fate that befell his friend, and when oppressed by the awful dread of the unknown, he grew to attribute, both at the time and still more in remembrance, weird and elfin traits to what was merely some abnormally wicked and cunning wild beast; but whether this was so or not, no man can say.

 

When the event occurred, Bauman was still a young man, and was trapping with a partner among the mountains dividing the forks of the Salmon from the head of Wisdom River. Not having had much luck, he and his partner determined to go up into a particularly wild and lonely pass through which ran a small stream said to contain many beavers. The pass had an evil reputation because the year before a solitary hunter who had wandered into it was slain, seemingly by a wild beast, the half eaten remains being afterwards found by some mining prospectors who had passed his camp only the night before.

 

The memory of this event, however, weighted very lightly with the two trappers, who were as adventurous and hardy as others of their kind. They took their two lean mountain ponies to the foot of the pass where they left them in an open beaver meadow, the rocky timber-clad ground being from there onward impracticable for horses. They then struck out on foot through the vast, gloomy forest, and in about four hours reached a little open glade where they concluded to camp, as signs of game were plenty.

 

There was still an hour or two of daylight left, and after building a brush lean-to and throwing down and opening their packs, they started upstream. The country was very dense and hard to travel through, as there was much down timber, although here and there the somber woodland was broken by small glades of mountain grass. At dusk they again reached camp. The glade in which it was pitched was not many yards wide, the tall, close-set pines and firs rising round it like a wall. On one side was a little stream, beyond which rose the steep mountains slope, covered with the unbroken growth of evergreen forest.

 

They were surprised to find that during their absence something, apparently a bear, had visited camp, and had rummaged about among their things, scattering the contents of their packs, and in sheer wantonness destroying their lean-to. The footprints of the beast were quite plain, but at first they paid no particular heed to them, busying themselves with rebuilding the lean-to, laying out their beds and stores and lighting the fire.

 

While Bauman was making ready supper, it being already dark, his companion began to examine the tracks more closely, and soon took a brand from the fire to follow them up, where the intruder had walked along a game trail after leaving the camp. When the brand flickered out, he returned and took another, repeating his inspection of the footprints very closely. Coming back to the fire, he stood by it a minute or two, peering out into the darkness, and suddenly remarked, "Bauman, that bear has been walking on two legs."

 

Bauman laughed at this, but his partner insisted that he was right, and upon again examining the tracks with a torch, they certainly did seem to be made by but two paws or feet. However, it was too dark to make sure. After discussing whether the footprints could possibly be those of a human being, and coming to the conclusion that they could not be, the two men rolled up in their blankets, and went to sleep under the lean-to. At midnight Bauman was awakened by some noise, and sat up in his blankets. As he did so his nostrils were struck by a strong, wild-beast odor, and he caught the loom of a great body in the darkness at the mouth of the lean-to. Grasping his rifle, he fired at the vague, threatening shadow, but must have missed, for immediately afterwards he heard the smashing of the under wood as the thing, whatever it was, rushed off into the impenetrable blackness of the forest and the night.

 

After this the two men slept but little, sitting up by the rekindled fire, but they heard nothing more. In the morning they started out to look at the few traps they had set the previous evening and put out new ones. By an unspoken agreement they kept together all day, and returned to camp towards evening. On nearing it they saw, hardly to their astonishment that the lean-to had again been torn down. The visitor of the preceding day had returned, and in wanton malice had tossed about their camp kit and bedding, and destroyed the shanty. The ground was marked up by its tracks, and on leaving the camp it had gone along the soft earth by the brook. The footprints were as plain as if on snow, and, after a careful scrutiny of the trail, it certainly did seem as if, whatever the thing was, it had walked off on but two legs.

 

The men, thoroughly uneasy, gathered a great heap of dead logs and kept up a roaring fire throughout the night, one or the other sitting on guard most of the time. About midnight the thing came down through the forest opposite, across the brook, and stayed there on the hillside for nearly an hour. They could hear the branches crackle as it moved about, and several times it uttered a harsh, grating, long-drawn moan, a peculiarly sinister sound. Yet it did not venture near the fire. In the morning the two trappers, after discussing the strange events of the last 36 hours, decided that they would shoulder their packs and leave the valley that afternoon. They were the more ready to do this because in spite of seeing a good deal of game sign they had caught very little fur. However it was necessary first to go along the line of their traps and gather them, and this they started out to do. All the morning they kept together, picking up trap after trap, each one empty. On first leaving camp they had the disagreeable sensation of being followed. In the dense spruce thickets they occasionally heard a branch snap after they had passed; and now and then there were slight rustling noises among the small pines to one side of them.

 

At noon they were back within a couple of miles of camp. In the high, bright sunlight their fears seemed absurd to the two armed men, accustomed as they were, through long years of lonely wandering in the wilderness, to face every kind of danger from man, brute or element. There were still three beaver traps to collect from a little pond in a wide ravine near by. Bauman volunteered to gather these and bring them in, while his companion went ahead to camp and made ready the packs.

 

On reaching the pond Bauman found three beavers in the traps, one of which had been pulled loose and carried into a beaver house. He took several hours in securing and preparing the beaver, and when he started homewards he marked, with some uneasiness, how low the sun was getting. As he hurried toward camp, under the tall trees, the silence and desolation of the forest weighted on him. His feet made no sound on the pine needles and the slanting sunrays, striking through among the straight trunks, made a gray twilight in which objects at a distance glimmered indistinctly. There was nothing to break the gloomy stillness which, when there is no breeze, always broods over these somber primeval forests. At last he came to the edge of the little glade where the camp lay and shouted as he approached it, but got no answer. The campfire had gone out, though the thin blue smoke was still curling upwards.

 

Near it lay the packs wrapped and arranged. At first Bauman could see nobody; nor did he receive an answer to his call. Stepping forward he again shouted, and as he did so his eye fell on the body of his friend, stretched beside the trunk of a great fallen spruce. Rushing towards it the horrified trapper found that the body was still warm, but that the neck was broken, while there were four great fang marks in the throat. The footprints of the unknown beast-creature, printed deep in the soft soil, told the whole story. The unfortunate man, having finished his packing, had sat down on the spruce log with his face to the fire, and his back to the dense woods, to wait for his companion. While thus waiting, his monstrous assailant, which must have been lurking in the woods, waiting for a chance to catch one of the adventurers unprepared, came silently up from behind, walking with long noiseless steps and seemingly still on two legs. Evidently unheard, it reached the man, and broke his neck by wrenching his head back with its fore paws, while it buried its teeth in his throat. It had not eaten the body, but apparently had romped and gamboled around it in uncouth, ferocious glee, occasionally rolling over and over it; and had then fled back into the soundless depths of the woods.

 

Bauman, utterly unnerved and believing that the creature with which he had to deal was something either half human or half devil, some great goblin-beast, abandoned everything but his rifle and struck off at speed down the pass, not halting until he reached the beaver meadows where the hobbled ponies were still grazing. Mounting, he rode onwards through the night, until beyond reach of pursuit."