I've seen “monsters” in the forest.
As a child I saw a werewolf. At least, that was what I kept telling everyone, until the ridicule became too much and I couldn't take the teasing any longer. It wasn't long before I stopped talking about it altogether. But I’ll never forget what I saw that day— the horrible image of the creature is burned into my mind like a fresh snapshot.italic
I saw it very clearly; it stood directly across from me, merely 20 yards away. The monster and I locked eyes for what seemed an eternity, before it put its head down and slowly walked off into the pines.
In a panic, I sprinted the mile or so back to camp and locked myself inside the pickup truck. It took a long while before my breathing returned to normal.
I had to be coaxed out at supper time. As I picked over my meal, I kept a wary eye on the darkness outside the ring of firelight. Every snap of twig and rustle of leaves kept me on high alert and close to panic.
I chose to sleep inside the vehicle that entire camping trip, instead of in the tent with my brothers. It wasn't a full moon that weekend, but I wasn't going to take any chances.
I never went back up to the mountain after that.
It wasn't until 35 years later that I happened to see a photo of a bear with mange and was able to identify my “werewolf”!
You tell me. Does this look like a werewolf to you?
While fishing in the Trinity Alps wilderness, I came upon a giant salamander. I have seen my share of salamanders, but they didn't look anything like the one I found that day. At nearly a foot long, and covered in dark spots, its size was so intimidating that I was afraid to lift it from the current. It might have bitten me or could have been poisonous for all I knew, so I left it alone and didn't get a photo.
I didn't catch any fish that day.
As a twenty-something adult, my friends and I were out hiking, and decided to rest near a stream. While wading in the crystal-clear glacier runoff, we came upon a wig.
It was resting on the streambed near the banks, waving in the current like ghastly tendrils of brown kelp.
It was disturbing to find someone's hair, high up in the mountains, 10 miles from the trailhead.
A friend fished it out with a stick and left it in the sunshine to dry. We reported our find to the official manning the ranger kiosk on our way out of the national park.
I’ve always wondered if anyone checked in with Lost and Found, looking for their hair.
