Danielle (61:14)
Yeah. So my next story is titled Scary Experience in Mount Rainier National park by Reddit user recent_fox_2091 and I'm excited because I also lived here. I went to a Van Life meetup in Enumclaw Washington over the weekend. The city is close to Mount Rainier national park, and because I had already made the trip, I figured I might as well camp overnight nearby the park in a dispersed camping spot in the forest. I brought some ingredients to make carne asada tacos, downloaded some movies, and was ready for a nice cozy evening in my van, something which I do on most weekends in various campsites around the state. When I got there, I hiked around the campsite, which was very nice save for the large amounts of trash, which was littered about, which actually made me really sad. The trail led to two fire pits not too far from where I had parked, and it ended at a quiet riverbank. It seemed like it was a good spot that local teens might go to drink and smoke weed. There was even a log bench with the word 420 painted colorfully on its seat. I wasn't sure how recently people had been here, and there were open half drank cans around the fire pits that seemed cold. I wasn't quite sure if this meant anything. In the moment I decided that it likely wasn't an active camp, and that's where I chose to set up camp. The spot wasn't terribly isolated. Every 30 minutes or so, someone would drive by to claim another campsite down the lonely fire road, some trucks and even an rv. People like me looking to spend time out in nature and who don't want to shell out the extra cash for a campsite. After exploring the area, I went back to my van to start making dinner. I used a satellite communicator to check in with my friends and family as I didn't have any service this deep into the forest. The sun was setting and as I sat down to eat my tacos, I left my doors open to let the air flow and the cool breeze felt amazing. But after eating and when it was quiet, I started noticing a sound in the distance. They sounded like gunshots, really, almost like cannon shots, deep rhythmic booms echoing in the valley every few seconds. What accompanied those noises was the noise of a chainsaw, much closer than the gunshots. Now, neither of these noises are very uncommon to hear when camping on fire roads. To be honest, it wouldn't be unheard of for someone to use a chainsaw to cut down a larger tree trunk into firewood. Summer fire ban be damned. But then saw some campers start to leave, including an rv, which was particularly unusual. Finding a campsite for an RV can be hard, but it is especially hard to find one at night. The rule is to always find camp before the sun sets and the sun had only just disappeared from the sky. Something spooked them and I wondered if it would be wise to follow their lead. However, I had unwashed dishes on the counter and was in no mood to move and so I didn't. I did, however, triple check that all my doors and windows were locked before drifting to sleep. That night can only be described as hazy and disorienting. I have very little memory of anything that had happened, but the evidence that something had most definitely happened was very evident. I remember being awake in the pitch black of night, struggling to breathe, not choking. My lungs were filled with air, but I remember the feeling of drowning. I remember the pleading desperation for air. I remember trying to see with my sight, being wholly consumed by the darkness in front of me. I have memory of trying to punch out a window to no avail. I remember making my way to the side doors of my van to open the door to breathe. And then I woke up in bed and the sun was in the sky. I would have chalked this up to a really bad dream, but all around me my van was damaged. It looked like there had been a struggle. Some of my window blinds were sliced and ruined. One of my windows had a scratch mark from the inside. Even the air vent on my ceiling was obliterated from the inside. My curtain rack was pulled down from the ceiling and which was screwed into a beam. I didn't think I was even capable of this. The van was very well ventilated, so I am unsure as to why I would have had trouble breathing in the first place. My carbon monoxide detector was silent and the van was very well ventilated after cooking. I have no idea what could have caused me to do this and ruined my lovely van. I saw no indication of any kind of forced entry and all the damage was done from the inside by me trying to get out. I guess my knuckles were very sore as well as my feet, as I had probably hit them hard on the various cabinets in the van. On my way out, A pole I used to prop up my canopy was strangely out of place in the middle of the floor and broken at the ends. I have never had any form of night terrors or sleepwalking before this, except for one incident also nearby Mount Rainier National Park. A few months ago, my friends and I were driving once again through Enumclaw, trying to find a camping spot where we might be able to post up. It was nighttime already and as I said before, finding camp at night can be pretty difficult. We were driving down the same road I had taken for my recent trip. And we had gotten a tip from a local about a mountain which had some good dispersed camping. We were tired and hungry and just wanted to start setting up camp. We passed a few spots, mostly mud and rock, none very appealing. We decided to pick the least muddy spot we could find, and I helped them set up their tents. It was one of my very first trips in my van, and I was excited to test it out. As we were setting up camp, we heard the wind blowing ominously through the trees, causing them to creak loudly, threatening us with a fall. And this particular area of the mountain was on very unleveled in the most unsettling way. So we thus referred to this campsite as the ominous slant. When we slept that night, a few things of note happened. My friend Melissa claims to have heard squeaking noises as if someone was wearing a latex bodysuit. She refers to the sound as the happy gimper. Kurt, her boyfriend, swears he heard a bear that night. However, the worst of it was when in the middle of the night, they both heard me yell bloody murder from my van. Kurt rushed out of the tent, tripping a few times in his haste, and rushed over to swing open the doors, but I was asleep. He asked what was wrong, and he thought that someone was attacking me. I had no idea what he was talking about. I have no memory at all of any nightmares preceding it or anything. I have no idea what any of this means. I've been on many trips in the van since with different people, and nothing like this has ever happened anywhere else. It has only happened when I've been in Mount Rainier National Park. To be honest, thinking about the feeling of drowning in the darkness makes me very much not want to revisit the subject anytime soon. So I don't believe I'll be visiting the park anytime in the near future for camping either. There is something strange going on there.