SC EP:1218 Three Strange Days cover art

SC EP:1218 Three Strange Days

SC EP:1218 Three Strange Days

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 Preston writes "This experience happened during an autumn fishing trip for brook trout in one of the most isolated regions of the Adirondack Mountains. To reach this area is no small task. First, you have to cross a reservoir by boat an eight mile ride across water that itself lies nearly forty miles from the nearest town. Once across, you reach the trailhead. From there, the route winds past a series of ponds deeper into the wilderness. The first leg is a 1.2 mile hike to the first lake. From there, you can either hike around it or paddle straight across. My fishing partner and I use Kevlar/carbon-fiber canoes light enough to carry, so if weather allows, we paddle the lake instead. That lake is roughly two miles long. After taking out on the far side, the trail continues another 1.5 miles into the Five Ponds Wilderness. At the second lake, the trail turns north and becomes more of a bushwhack through old-growth timber, with mountains rising on both sides. That stretch is another two miles, heading deeper into the wilderness until you finally reach the destination lake. This area is considered one of the three most isolated locations in the entire Adirondack Park relative to civilization. It's an absolutely stunning place completely secluded, ringed by mountains, with water that looks glacial and holds trophy class brook trout. It's truly one of my favorite places on Earth. We arrived around mid-morning on the first day and immediately started fishing. We caught plenty of fish, and everything felt normal. As evening approached, we gathered firewood, set up our tents, cooked dinner, and sat around talking. At one point, I stood up and did a Bigfoot call followed by a loud tree knock. It was something we used to do as a joke in less remote areas to mess with other campers. My buddy laughed, and we turned in for the night. Sometime in the middle of the night, we were jolted awake by the sound of a large tree falling not far from camp. It scared the hell out of us. The night was completely calm no wind at all. What struck us immediately was the silence. No peeper frogs. No wood frogs. No loons on the lake. No breeze. Just absolute stillness. It felt wrong. We stayed in our tents until around 4:30 a.m., when we were awakened again this time by a rhythmic pounding, like something repeatedly striking a tree. The hits were forceful, evenly spaced, about every three seconds. It continued steadily until after sunrise, coming from the direction of the trailhead. We tried to rationalize it. I suggested a woodpecker, though I didn't believe it. Then I floated the idea that maybe two moose were sparring since it was close to the rut but neither of us bought that either. The consistency and power of the blows didn't feel natural. It also made us rethink the fallen tree from earlier. I wondered if it could've been a beaver, since they're nocturnal and nearby ponds were close but none of it fully added up. We eventually got moving, launched the canoes, and spent the day fishing. We practice catch and release unless a fish is mortally wounded, which unfortunately happened that day. We kept that fish, cooked it for dinner, then went back out on the water until dark. As we paddled back to camp at twilight, I noticed what looked like a dark shape partially concealed behind a massive old-growth pine that leaned out over the lake. It was nearly night, and the woods were pitch black but whatever this was appeared darker than the surrounding darkness. I chalked it up to my imagination and kept paddling. Later, as we were getting ready to crawl into our tents, I noticed lights hovering over the lake. I'd seen these before on a few occasions. There was one main light above the water, and smaller lights would split off from it, drifting away on either side. Eventually, the main light dimmed, and the smaller lights faded out entirely. I'll be honest I'm terrified of aliens, and having seen unexplained things before, I was already on edge. Lying in my tent, I suddenly felt heavy thuds on the ground. I yelled to Casey and grabbed my headlamp, assuming a black bear had wandered into camp. When I stepped out, I found a snowshoe hare at my feet. This was the largest hare I've ever seen and it showed absolutely no fear. It hopped right up to me and just sat there, right next to my boots. We couldn't understand why a wild animal would act that way. It was as if it was seeking shelter. The hare stayed by the fire with us like it was an old friend. Eventually, I went back to my tent and left it there by the fire. Later that night, another tree fell nearby. We lay in our tents talking quietly about it before eventually drifting off. Once again, near dawn, the tree pounding started same cadence, same duration continuing until the sun came up. That day, we headed to the north end of the lake, where a massive dome-shaped mountain rises with cliffs and sweeping views. That end of the lake acts like a natural amphitheater. Casey decided to hike...
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