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Thread: Dangerous Ghost Towns

  1. #271
    bad bob's Avatar
    bad bob is offline Rock Crawlin GPS Moving Map Totin Trailblazing Expert Ghost Towner
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    Quote Originally Posted by Driftin' View Post
    Does anyone know if Gravel ever made his trip to the States?




    Not yet, but he's still workin' on it.

  2. #272
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    About 10 years ago I was exploring a nearby mining complex by myself (naturally), and ran late....by the time I exited the adit entrance it was night and pitch black, no moon or any ambient light. My flashlight still had plenty of battery life left, so I used it to try to pick out the trail down the mountain to where my truck was parked; it was a good 1-1/2 mile hike down the mountainside.

    I get about 100 yards along the trail when I hear:

    "RRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

    HOLY COW! I instantly freeze, trying to locate the direction & distance (yeah right) in the dark, after switching off my flashlight... What the **** was that????

    It sounded like it was right by me, so I wait for the sounds of footsteps approaching, breathing, anything to give me a clue as to what the heck I was up against.....

    ...when finally the creature finished its blood-curdling scream:

    "Eeeee-HAAAWW eeeeeee-HAAAWWWW eeHAWW eHAWW eeHAAAAAWWWWW!"

    Then it occurred to me that at the base of the mountain, about 150 yards from where my truck was parked, was a year-round spring; someone had installed a spigot and a trough, and wild burros frequently congregated there to drink and do whatever burros do in the dark....

    It took me another 2 days before I was able to completely extract my underwear that had sucked up my rear end.....

  3. #273
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    Quote Originally Posted by silverstate55 View Post

    ...when finally the creature finished its blood-curdling scream:

    "Eeeee-HAAAWW eeeeeee-HAAAWWWW eeHAWW eHAWW eeHAAAAAWWWWW!"
    Everyone here is still laughing about your great post! Especially those who have had that exact, same experience.

    That sound that burros really do make is NEVER the classic "He Haw", that people are led to expect. The real sounds could
    have been used in the movie, "Jurassic Park". But my guess is that it would have frightened the audience, way to much!!!

  4. #274
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    Screech Owls reall freak people out. Their sound is really like "out of this world" . . .
    - Wolfgang -

  5. #275
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    Exclamation Be Eaten By Flying Monkey Demons - OR - Fall Into A Chasm ?!!!

    Quote Originally Posted by Wolfgang View Post
    Screech Owls really freak people out. Their sound is really like "out of this world" . . .
    They certainly do!!!

    Once, years ago, we were camped near the site of a long abandoned WWPA(?) camp, far up a lonely canyon, in a desolate part of southwestern NM. Suddenly, the arid stillness was ripped asunder by what we thought could only be the ravenous screams -
    of
    a marauding troupe of flying monkey-demons, straight from H***, poised for an attack, to eat our brains!!!

    Shuttering there in the moonless darkness, we discussed the possibility of making a break for it, and climbing into the Bronco, that by necessity, was parked some distance from the crumbling edge of the canyon. But, thankfully, we decided that a slip in the blackness could likely be more dangerous than having our noggins scooped out for gluttonous consumption. Our vigil, in the desert-mountain night, was long, and dry-mouthed. I eventually found sleep, but not to long before first light. On waking, the wisdom of staying still, and risking becoming the ghoulish "main course" in some macabre, otherworldly banquet, was as starkly evident as the rugged vista of the steep sided arroyo, that lay along our path of retreat to the safety of our vehicle.

    Later, after doing a little online research, we determined our nocturnal visitation to most likely have been -
    a pair of cute, tiny little Elf Owls, sweetly courting each other.
    http://www.owling.com/Elf.htm#recordings
    ( Click on Madera Canyon Arizona May 2000 )


    Here is a great site, with owl audio recordings, to help identify any peckish little monsters, that may be stalking you.
    http://www.owling.com/Owling.htm


  6. #276
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    Barn owls make a fairly hideous coughing cry. At first they sound just like a chupacabra, but then after a bit when there is no screaming from the dying goat, you realize it is just a barn owl.

    NJ
    Last edited by Norman Johnson; 08-20-2009 at 01:04 PM.
    "I got four things to live by: Don't say nothing that will hurt anybody. Don't give advice--nobody will take it anyway. Don't complain. Don't explain." Death Valley Scotty Walter Scott 1872-1954

  7. #277
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    Default Dangerous Ghost towns

    Haven't encountered any problems around here. I don't go out on drives much anymore, since I work two jobs, and wind up working both Saturday and Sunday.
    When my dad was alive, we often went for a drive on the weekends to various towns around here and some of them were ghost towns,like Zunkerville,Peggy, Dewville and others.Never encountered any crazies, and certainly none in any cemeteries.
    Around here you do have to watch for rattle snakes,which is why I don't go exploring some of the old abandoned houses I know of in the area.

    Also, around here you have to watch out for illegal aliens or beware of someone growing pot or a meth lab.
    However, there haven't been too many reports of meth labs out in the countryside.Most of the raids I've seen mentioned on the news have occured in San Antonio.

    It is a good idea to have a gun with you as you never know what you might encounter out there.
    Never encountered a bear, but we did encounter a snapping turtle once.
    My dad,my sister Jessica and I were
    driving from Palmetto State Park to Gonzales.Near the ghost town of Princeville, we saw a snapping turtle crossing the road. We stopped and watched him.He opened his mouth and hissed at us, and then decided to finally cross the road. Don't know if they are nocturnal, but that's something I wouldn't like to ecounter in a tent at night.

    We saw a bobcat once up on Kroeger Canyon Road, up by one of the limestone rock quarries that dot the area around New Braunfels. Had never seen one before in the wild like that, only in photographs.

  8. #278
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    I love this thread! It combines many of my favorite topics. Guns, ghost towns, and things that go bump (or screech) in the night.

    I'm a paranormal investigator based out of Tulsa Oklahoma. I occasionally get the opportunity to travel around and do investigations in remote, abandoned, and unmapped locations. About five years ago I was visiting some family in North-central Arkansas. While there I was handed a recent edition of the local paper that had a two-page article about cemeteries in the area. Some of them very old (up to two hundred years in a couple cases). I knew places like that existed and the landscape was dotted with ghost towns and long abandoned homes. So I decided to take a day and do some exploring. I mapped out a rout that would allow me to hit as many cemeteries as possible. Along the way I'd taken some time to check out some old abandoned farm houses and barns.

    The next day I was scheduled to go back home but there was one place I was eager to check out, and it was sort-of along the rout I usually drive home. This location contained the grave of a Revolutionary War soldier who retired to (what is now) the Ozarks. While searching for this place I drove my SUV through a shallow stream and up a narrow road along the edge of a small mountain. Upon reaching the top the road flattened out and went straight for a little ways. I passed one occupied home, and a half mile later, another. About a quarter mile past that the road stopped at a the edge of the forest.

    I contemplated going on foot, but then read the description of the cemetery again. Apparently whoever wrote the article must have gotten a street name wrong or something because it described the cemetery being out in a field. And the area I was in now was heavily wooded.

    I turned around and headed back in the direction the second house. I'd seen an older looking man tending his garden there and thought I'd ask if he knew of the place I was seeking. As I approached, the same man I'd seen earlier was standing in the middle of the road watching me. I pulled up next to him and introduced myself and identified myself as a paranormal investigator in search of a specific cemetery.

    The man was tall and gangly. He had a long wispy gray beard and deeply sunk in, dark circled eyes. He looked at me for a long moment and then looked at my investigator ID badge and then back up at me. "Paranormal?" He inquired. "That's ghosts; isn't it?" I smiled and responded, "Yes Sir". He gave me a curious look and then ask, "Do you have a minute to talk to me?" Intrigued, I said, "If it's about ghosts, you can have as much of my time as you want." He then motioned for me to pull into his driveway. After parking I exited my vehicle and approached him with a hardy handshake. He gripped my hand tightly and then looked around as if he looking to see if anyone was listening. We were the only ones there and surrounded by forest. Still gripping my hand, he leaned in and said, "These woods come alive at night." I won't lie to you. This guy creeped me out, but I was too excited to hear his story to be afraid of anything.

    He invited me inside and we sat at his dining table as he regaled me with some of the most amazing stories. He told me he lived off the land and earned money by giving guided fishing tours of a near-by river. His wife also sold their extra crops in a nearby town at the farmer's market. He grew, hunted and scavenged everything they ate and only used the cash to pay an electric and phone bill. He told me of the many things he'd found while hunting and exploring the woods around his house. Two ghost towns, caves, one of which containing the remnants of two Civil War cannons, log cabins, a trio of houses surrounded by a grove of pecan trees. Then he began telling me of the ghosts and other strange things he'd seen in the area.

    Granted I was taking all of this with a grain of salt. The ramblings of a crazy old hillbilly. That is until he retrieved a wooden box. Before opening it he told me the story of a ghostly image that lead him to a specific tree then vanished. Upon examining the tree he noticed a gleam of silver reflecting off of a branch. He climbed the tree and snapped the branch off and took it home with him. Then he opened the box. Inside was two pieces of distorted branch and a sliver ring. He explained that he'd cut away some of the overgrown bark and then cut the branch in two in order to retrieve the ring. The silver band was distorted but not so much that you couldn't see the intricate marking along the band. On the inside was carved some words in Spanish.

    Then he ask me to follow him into a back room, but before going in, he made me promise I'd never tell anyone where he lives. I agreed and he opened the door. Inside was a series of glass display cases containing a myriad of artifacts. Native American beads, leather clothing, weapons and tools. Early pioneer clothing, boots, hats, hand guns, a rifle, and mining tools, knife blades, and smoking instruments. Civil War era guns, sabers, knives, buttons, badges, bullets, cannon balls, powder tins, buckles, hats, uniform jackets, bits and bridles, a pocket watch, snuff tins, and other bits and pieces. One case was full of coins, buttons, bullet casings, and other little rusted chunks of metal.

    I stood in amazement of what I was seeing. I've been in museums that didn't have this much period stuff. Then he walked over to one tall case that was covered with a quilt and made me repeat my earlier promise. I assured him that the location of his collection would die with me. He nodded his head slowly and gripped the quilt with a bony hand and gave it a tug. As the patchwork bed covering hit the ground I gasp aloud. Inside this case was a full set of Spanish Conquistador armor. Helmet, breastplate, sword and scabbard, and shin guards. Rotted pieces of a padded coat and some shriveled up leather boots and gloves sat at the bottom of the case. Next to it was an equally withered leather pouch and beside that was a stack of gold coins and some uncut colored gems. Leaning against one wall of the case was pieces three stone tipped arrows and against the other side leaned a heavily rusted black powder musket and pistol. The wooden protons of both were all but rotted away.

    Still stunned and without taking my eyes off of the case I ask, "Where did you get this?" He described a hunting trip which took him into a natural depression. Near the bottom of the area was a few holes in the rock walls. The openings were no bigger than a couple feet, but he felt compelled to have a look inside. One opened into a chamber the size of a small bathroom. The floor of the cavern was covered with leaf litter and fur. Likely a den for foxes or some other predatory animal. He said his toe bumped into something that gave off a hollow metal sound and he stooped down to see what it was. After clearing the contents of the small cave he had everything that was inside that case. Along with some human bones which he placed back inside the cavern before leaving. He explained that the three arrows he found in the covey were probably what resulted in the early explorer's death. He openly pondered if the man wasn't a scout who encountered some of the local Indians who attacked him and he escaped into the cave where he later died.

    If I hadn't seen it, I'd have never believed any of it. I ask why he showed me this stuff. He smiled and said, "Because I have the feeling you're the real thing. In the short time I've known you I got the impression that I can trust you and I knew you'd appreciate this stuff." We went back to his dining table and talked for a while longer. I explained that I still had a four hour trip ahead of me and in all honesty, I should have already been there and my family would soon be getting worried about me. His wife insisted on giving me a couple sandwiches and a few bottles of water for my trip home. I graciously accepted her gift and the man followed me to my truck. He shook my hand and expressed his pleasure in meeting me and invited me to come back any time.

    Anyway, I figured with all of the stories about encounters with bizarre angry locals, I'd share my story of meeting a bizarre nice local.
    Last edited by Valag; 09-07-2009 at 05:02 AM.

  9. #279
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    Wow, what a great experience, thanks for sharing! I've had far more good experiences than bad while "ghost-towning," and it's always great to hear of others having the same.

    I hope that his collection goes to a good museum for others to experience, and not reburied or lost.

    Thanks Valag!
    "A fear of weapons is a sign of retarded sexual and emotional maturity."
    --Sigmund Freud, General Introduction to Psychoa*alysis (1952)

  10. #280
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    What a fantastic story. It would work well on a forum of truer than fiction stories. I have to admit, you had me right up until the beginning. You see, I looked at the length of the post and realized it was unlike 99% of the posts on this site. It was a long story by an unknown participant and had no photo's. It was a good story though and I enjoyed reading it---no matter how untrue.

    NJ.
    "I got four things to live by: Don't say nothing that will hurt anybody. Don't give advice--nobody will take it anyway. Don't complain. Don't explain." Death Valley Scotty Walter Scott 1872-1954

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