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A story from Skinwalker Ranch, urban exploration in an abandoned school, a bizarre sense of intuition, and more!
Stories in this episode:
- Night Lights, by Anonymous
- The Beehive School, by Genevieve
- Have You Felt The Click?, by StormySeas24
- My Basement Room, by Kiara
- Skinwalker Experience, by Anne H.
Submissions: [email protected]
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Hey there, it's Ryan Seacrest for Safeway.
It's stock up savings time now through April 2nd.
Spring in for store-wide deals and earn four times the points.
Look for in-store tags to earn on eligible items from.
Celsius, body armor, aura-aida, silk, Capri-sun,
Bavarian meats, and Charmin.
Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event-long savings.
Stack up those rewards to save even more.
Enjoy savings on top of savings when you shop in-store,
nor online for easy drive-up and go pick up a delivery.
Restrictions apply, see website for full terms
and conditions.
Odd Trails is a true paranormal podcast.
If you have a story to share, send it to stories at oddtrails.com.
Enjoy the show.
Get on your life, it's just a dream, don't cheers.
Nightlights by Anonymous
This happened 30 years ago, I was 14.
I used to attend a summer camp on an island in southeast Alaska,
and it was always the highlight of my summer.
This summer in particular was the last one I went to,
as you will hear later for obvious reasons.
It was towards the end of the two weeks of camp.
I had been having a blast making new friends and developing a crusher too.
Being a female, I bunked in a dorm with three other girls,
and by that point we had become quite close.
We had a long day swimming in the freezing cold water and playing camp games,
like tug-of-war or croquet.
We were also running relay races and doing other things of the sort,
so by the time we got to our dorms for the night, we were all exhausted and happy to climb
into our sleeping bags. Unfortunately, I have the bladder of a hummingbird, even at 14,
so I needed to make a trip outside to go to the outhouse.
Since it was summer, and it would stay light out for a very long time,
it had to have been past midnight when I was heading out there.
It was pitch dark.
I was walking to the outhouse.
If I had access to a big coffee can, I would have used that instead,
since it was absolutely terrifying to walk the equivalent of about three city blocks downhill
to the outhouse.
We hadn't seen any bears or other big game during our stay,
but had seen plenty of signs of them being around.
So, like the good friend that I was, I proceeded to wake up my roomies and beg them
to walk to the outhouse with me.
It's been many years, so I don't know what in the world I promised them to get them out of
their warm beds and have them walk down the hill with me, but it must have been some fine
convincing on my part. So, we put on some sweatshirts and headed out.
As we walked, we pretended to hear animal noises in the woods around us,
and we were scaring each other to death.
By the time we got to the bathroom, we just wanted to hurry up and get back to the dorm.
I say we, because, by the time we all got to the outhouse, all of us had to be.
Since my friends had generously agreed to come with me, I let them go first,
as it was a one-hole outhouse. So, it took a while for all of us to go.
The first two did their business, and decided they didn't want to wait for my other friend in me,
so when they were done, they took off running up the hill.
I was left standing outside by myself waiting for my friend before I had my turn.
I had my flashlight on, and then, all of a sudden, the sky turned bright.
It happened so quickly, and it was so bizarre. It was like one second, it was pitch black,
and the next second, it was bright. It was such a surreal thing to experience in the middle of the
night. The outhouse was at the edge of the woods, so I stepped back a bit to the opening of the
trail where I could see the sky better, and it was full of big orange circles. There were about
a dozen of them, and I didn't know how far above me they were, but they looked like bigger circles
than the sun. I screamed at my friend, you need to get out here now. She must have been ready to come
out because she ran out right away, and she was able to witness them too. Years later, as I told
my husband about them, he told me it was probably the northern lights, but it wasn't the season for
those, and I've seen the northern lights before, and those are typically shades of green and blue,
not orange, and never circular like these things were. Anyway, Cindy and I didn't stick around long
enough to see what was going to happen with these orange circles next. We just booked it up the hill
and hit our heads inside our sleeping bags. Even though I was the one who needed to pee that night,
I never got to go, but by the time I was back in my sleeping bag, I had completely forgotten
about the reason for the trip. I guess this is the place where I'd normally say let's not meet,
but I guess that doesn't really apply here, so I suppose I'll say I never want to experience anything
like this again.
The Beehive School by Genevieve
I grew up in a small suburb of Cleveland, Ohio, where I lived until I was 17. When I was 14,
I was the victim of an especially horrible assault, perpetrated by two strangers twice my age.
And then when I was 16, I started breaking into abandoned buildings. It was my means of coping with
the trauma I experienced two years prior. It felt like the trajectory of my personality shot off
in another direction. I stopped associating with my friends and became very reclusive. At school,
I was angry and aggressive. I carried a tremendous amount of guilt for supposedly allowing the
traumatic event to happen in the first place. It sounds wild, I know, but I was just a kid.
When I got into urban exploration, I was about five foot one and a hundred pounds.
Believe me, I know how stupid it was to do what I did. I knew it then too. Truth be told though,
the risk to my safety was what drew me into urban exploring in the first place.
The first time I broke into a building, I didn't bring anything with me but a flashlight,
and one of those retractable batons you get at the Army surplus store.
I went room to room in an old factory, practically begging someone to mess with me.
I wanted to fight for my life. I didn't care about the outcome really. I just needed to prove
that I could. But the building was empty. Instead, I wandered through the old place, marveling at
how beautiful it was inside. Nature had started to reclaim the metal and concrete. I left with a
sense of peacefulness I hadn't felt in over two years. After that first trip, abandoned buildings
became sort of a sanctuary for me. There was always the underlying risk of danger, but it was coupled
with quiet and comfort. It was the perfect cocktail of fear and calm that made me feel like I was
living in the present for once, rather than in regret of the past. After my fourth or fifth building,
I started bringing a camera with me. Every building felt different, and I wanted to document the
subtleties of each visit. By the time I heard of the Beehive School, I'd been in over a dozen
abandoned buildings in the Greater Cleveland area. Most were located in rough neighborhoods,
but by then I felt pretty seasoned and somewhat desensitized to the dangers of exploring.
So, one afternoon, I hopped in my little car and took a drive. The school was located on the far
east side of Cleveland Heights, nestled in the middle of a low-income residential neighborhood.
No security cameras are even a no-trust-passing sign from what I could tell.
I got out of my car, and a young woman in her yard approached right away. She was wrangling
two young children and balancing an infant on her hip. She asked what my business was in her
neighborhood. Prior to this, most of the buildings I'd explored were in isolated industrial areas.
This was the first time I had run into anyone. I showed her my camera and told her I was a student,
hoping to take pictures from my art class. That was a lie. Her face brightened.
Oh, you're a photographer. You want to take a picture with my kids?
I told her I'd be happy to, but I wasn't really there to photograph people.
She frowned and asked what I meant. I pointed to the school and her expression instantly changed.
You want to go in there? I told her yes. She stared at me for a second.
Eyebrows raised, then sighed and laughed. You're crazy.
I asked her why. Was someone in there?
I don't know what's in there, she said, suddenly serious. She told me she sure is held and
it go in there or let her kids go anywhere near that school. She asked again when I was trying to do.
I told her I just wanted to take a look around and get some photos for my art class assignment.
She kept shaking her head, repeating that I was crazy. I told her I'd be careful in what it
stayed long. Then I asked if my car would be okay for about an hour. She said that she would
keep an eye on it for 20 bucks. I walked up to the building, expecting to climb a fence,
but it didn't take long to find a person sized hole in the chain link.
The front entrance was boarded up, so I looped around the building looking for another way in.
The back door hadn't been secured properly. The boards had warped enough that it wouldn't close.
I pulled on it and it opened. Inside it was quiet, cool and blue. That's what struck me first.
Florida ceiling down the hallway, everything was the color of murky ocean.
The paint was peeling away from the walls and thick curls.
I started down the hallway, ducking into rooms here and there.
Remembering the woman's warning, I stayed alert. But the school was very quiet, very still.
To my surprise though, there was still a lot of stuff inside. Postures and newspaper articles
hung on classroom walls. Lockers still had textbooks. Papers were scattered across the floor.
When I picked one up, I realized it was the file of a former student,
complete with name, address and social security number.
Why would the staff leave sensitive documents laying around like garbage?
In the nurse's office, a vase with a bouquet of withered flowers stood next to the telephone.
Dead, of course, but still upright. Curtains were still on the rods,
furniture sat dusty but intact. The deeper I went, the more it felt like the schools and
happenings had simply vanished in the middle of a normal day. The closest thing I can compare it to
is when you're going through a bad breakup and you say, screw it, let your ex keep everything
just so you can make it faster get away. That was the feeling I got there. Haste.
It made the school feel chaotic despite being empty.
Eventually, I made my way toward the basement. I noticed the temperature shift slightly,
but that was to be expected. Heat rises. I descended the stairs, flashlight beam steady.
For some reason I was dead set on finding the gym. The basement was much darker since there were
no windows, but I had my light. Low ceilings, white cinder block walls.
Then out of nowhere, the temperature plummeted. Cold, very cold.
Goose bumps bloomed across every inch of my exposed skin. At the same time, the beam of my
flashlight flickered and went dark. This made no sense. I put brand new batteries in before leaving.
So I pulled out my flip phone, thinking at least the screen could guide me.
The moment I opened it, though, it died. Next, I tried my camera, hoping the flash would help
me see where I was going. Within seconds, its battery died too. Every electronic device I brought with
me stopped working within about 30 seconds of each other. I was left standing in darkness so
thick and silent that continuing forward was pointless. So I turned around to go back the way I came.
Except I couldn't find the staircase. Every turn seemed to lead deeper into the maze.
The air grew colder, and then I smelled something. At first it was faint, but it intensified quickly.
It smelled like roadkill, but sharper, more acidic. Within seconds, it was overwhelming.
I could taste it in the back of my throat. It clung to my clothes and my hair.
My eyes watered. My stomach wretched. I leaned against the wall, doubled over and violent dry
heaves. And that's when the feeling hit me. I was alone, but not alone. Something down there
had noticed me. I was certain I was going to die in that building, lost in those freezing hallways,
suffocating in the smell of decay. I don't know how long I wandered down there, but eventually my eyes
caught a sliver of light. I moved toward it and tripped, falling chin first on a staircase.
I crawled up the steps toward the light. I still don't know if it was the same stairs I came
down, or if I somehow reached the other side of the building. I didn't care though. I kicked
through the warped door covering the exit until it splintered. Then I forced myself outside.
When I reached my car, I projectile vomited, what felt like an impossible amount of orange
bile all over the sidewalk. Then the girl from earlier appeared in the doorway of her house.
She handed me a glass of water and said, told you. Then she told me this. There was a local gang
who dealt heroin nearby. One of their members, little brother, tried to make a name for himself by
stealing some of their product. They figured out who took it and when he ran, they chased him.
The kid broke into the beehive school to hide. They followed him inside and they found him.
I asked her why there wasn't crime scene tape, why it wasn't on the news, why the building was
just sitting there open. She looked at me like I was painfully naive. What world are you living in,
she said. Ain't gonna be no news about a dead junkie in Cleveland Heights. It never made the
news to the best of my knowledge. And she didn't tell me his name so I was never able to confirm
the story. But I know something was in that basement. As time goes by, I remember it with less and
less clarity. Still, I think whatever was in that basement took the part of me that wanted to die
and kept it. It confronted me with the reality that I needed to snap out of that toxic danger love.
It showed me that I wasn't as numb as I thought. I walked into the beehive school that day,
calling out for death and death answered. But instead of taking me, it embraced me like a mother
and then let me go.
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lifelock.com slash iHeart. Terms apply. Have you felt the click by stormy seas 24?
I've experienced something I've titled the click twice in my life. Something I think is a
definitive moment for me, at least on my personal timeline. The first one happened in college.
I was having a very deep, very heated conversation with a childhood best friend. It was summer at
an outdoor park, so kids screaming, wind, and the leaves, etc. A friend asks me a question,
and I feel a sudden pressure in my chest, like something holding me in place.
Everything is quiet, and I know that my answer is a pivotal one. It's like a fork in the road.
The oddest part is that my ears are ringing so loudly, and everything else has gone quiet.
No wind, no kids. For a second, time is frozen, waiting for me to make a choice.
And I know the choice that I want to make, but in a rush of youthful arrogance, I say,
what happens if I do the exact opposite of what you're pushing me to do?
I then feel the pressure ease up. The sounds come back. My ears stop ringing, and the world moves
forward again. It was like I was at an intersection deciding which track to choose, and once I did,
I was moving down the new track. Click. The next time was odd. It was ten years later,
back in my hometown. I was just grocery shopping, walking with my cart.
I had decided which aisle to go down first, and as a creature of habit, I started toward the
first aisle on the far right. I felt my feet actually slide and turn left before the ringing
in my ears started. Pressure on my chest again, slowing me and everything else down.
But this time, I listened and continued left. Then, click. I really don't know what was over to
the right.
My basement room by Kiara. This is a really short story, but it still scares me to this day.
I was probably about sixteen or seventeen at the time, and we had recently moved into a new house.
After a lot of begging, I convinced my mom to let me have the basement for my bedroom.
I was trying to have my own that seventies show experience. You know, a cool basement for when
my friends came over. The basement was really big, and it wasn't finished. The washer and dryer
ran the corner, and the ground was cement. To get into the basement, you had to go through the garage,
take the stairs down, then open my door, and it was really loud. I could always hear foot steps
through the garage and down the stairs, so I always knew when someone was coming.
One early morning, probably about five or six, I was lying in bed. I heard foot steps echoing in
the garage, then the steps went down the stairs. My door opened. I heard foot steps come in and
walk through the basement to the washer and dryer area. I pretended to be asleep. I figured it was
my grandpa. He's always up super early. Maybe he was getting laundry done or something.
But this is where it gets weird. I didn't hear anything after that. No foot steps walking back.
No washer. No dryer. My heart dropped. I know I heard those foot steps down the stairs. I know
my door creaked open. And like I mentioned, the ground was cement, so it was loud.
I definitely heard those foot steps walk across. So I quietly called out, hello, Papa,
and I didn't get a response. I pulled the blanket over my head and just laid there, paralyzed.
I stayed like that for a long time before I finally got the courage to haul ass out of there.
I moved into an empty bedroom upstairs after that. I still think about it to this day.
Who or what came into my room?
Hey there, it's Ryan Seacrest for Safeway. It's stock-up savings time now through April 2nd.
Spring in for store-wide deals and earn four times the points. Look for in-store tags to earn
on eligible items from Celsius, Body Armor, Aura Ida, Silk, Capri Sun, Bavarian Meets, and Charmin.
Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event-long savings. Stack up those rewards to save
even more. Enjoy savings on top of savings when you shop in-store or online for easy drive-up
and go pick up a delivery. Restrictions apply. See website for full terms and conditions.
Skinwalker Experience by Anne H. Overall, my experiences next to Skinwalker Ranch
span a wide range of phenomena, interactions with UFOs, engagement via psionics, missing time,
shadow beings, and much more. The following are just two examples of these interactions.
In 2023, I spent eight months living in Utah's UNTA Basin, a place that feels like it's caught
between the real world and something else entirely. My boyfriend at the time, Ray,
has 15 acres of land sitting right next to Skinwalker Ranch.
These desert badlands have been one of the most scientifically studied paranormal hot spots
in the world for many decades, through government-funded programs and private investigations.
Researchers have documented everything from UFO sightings and cryptic creatures to time
anomalies and ghostly apparitions. The phenomena here are slippery, often described as trickster-like,
you know, mischievous, deceptive, but always one step ahead.
Locals and researchers talk of voices with no source, shadows that run through the night,
and entities that seem to toy with your perception, testing your instincts.
It's as if the land itself is playing games, daring you to question what's real.
One of my first encounters happened on a warm spring day, not long after my boyfriend Ray
and I arrived from our apartment in the next town over.
We were there that day to continue working on various projects across the property
for Ray's project, with that will have groups out to Skywatch and commune with the energies
in that space using various modalities for expanding one's consciousness.
The sky was a perfect blue, no wind, and I was standing on a hill taking in the beauty of the
maces around me when a woman's voice cut through the silence yelling, help.
It came from the direction of a small pond and a cluster of trees nearby.
Ray and I were supposed to be the only ones on that land, so my guard went up instantly.
I froze, listening, and a few moments later the voice came again.
It said help two more times, but more urgently this time.
The voice was entirely out of place and didn't sound quite right.
Too flat, the words were drawn out too long, like a recording that's been slowed down.
Knowing the lore of this area, were things aren't always what they seem. I didn't rush toward the sound.
The stories of Skinwalker Ranch and its trickster phenomena, voices mimicking distress to lure
people into danger while they flashed through my mind. I wasn't about to fall for it,
instead I shouted back. Yeah, that's not going to work on me.
The yelling stopped abruptly, but then something worse started. A child's voice began calling out
mom over and over, but it did it in that same flat drawn out tone. Just now it was a higher pitch.
My skin prickled, but I forced myself to stay calm. Whatever was out there, it wasn't a child,
and it probably wasn't even human. It felt like a test, like something was trying to bait me
into running toward that pond. I waited with my heart pounding, as the calls continued sporadically
for about 30 seconds. I wanted them to stop. Almost out of nowhere, I finally yelled back.
I've already helped two kids make it to adulthood. You're on your own, buddy.
I don't know why that's what came out of my mouth. My kids were still teenagers at the time,
but the moment the words left my mouth, the air went silent. Whatever it was didn't call out again.
I didn't go looking to see if it was hiding in the trees, and I'm glad I didn't.
A couple of months later in June, another incident shook me to my core.
Ray and I were setting up for a night of stargazing, with the campfire already crackling.
It was around 6 or 6.30 pm, still light out, and it was just the two of us.
We had been temporarily leasing space on a neighboring property that had a trailer we sometimes
stayed in, and I was walking over there to grab some supplies for the evening.
As I stepped through a break in the fence where the two properties met,
I noticed someone standing by a tree on our neighbor's side toward the road.
It was a man about six feet tall, dressed in jeans and a white tank top. At first I wasn't
alarmed. People often stopped along the road, hoping to catch a glimpse of skin walker ranch.
I figured he had seen the campfire smoke and wandered closer for a look.
We would occasionally invite curious folks into the property, if they seemed cool,
so I was about to call out, hey, and move to continue walking toward him.
But before the word fully left my mouth, something impossible happened.
In a single moment, the man transformed into a deer.
One second, a human figure stood there. The next, a deer was staring right back at me.
There wasn't any shifting of faces or limbs. It was just a man who suddenly turned into a deer.
I was stunned. My brain struggling the process, what I had just seen.
The deer held my gaze for a few seconds before bolting across the property.
I could hear its hooves pounding on the ground as it ran up a small slope and paused.
I whipped my head back to where the man had been standing. But there was nothing. He was gone.
I turned back to the deer, expecting to see it still there on the slope, but it had vanished as well.
No sound of retreating steps, no rustle of brush. Just gone.
The next day, I told the story to the property owner, who had motion-activated cameras set up in
the area. I asked him to check the footage from the time of the incident. He called me back later
confirming the cameras had been triggered exactly when the event happened, and in the sequence
that matched the path that the deer man had taken. But here's the thing. The footage showed nothing.
No man, no deer, no movement at all. To the property owner, and others familiar with the
Bayesian's phenomena, this wasn't surprising. The trickster-like entities of the Uinta Bayesian
don't always play by the rules of cameras or logic. But they will show you what they want you
to see and then vanish without a trace. All of these experiences have left me with a mix of awe
and unease. They were reminders that in the Uinta Bayesian, you're never really alone,
and whatever is out there is always watching, waiting to see if you'll take the bait.
Hey there, it's Ryan Seacrest for Safeway.
It's stock-up savings time. Now, through April 2nd, spring in for store-wide deals and earn
four times of points. Look for in-store tags to earn on eligible items from hunts,
nerds, bills buried, loweries, briars, quaker, and culture pop. Then clip the offer in the app
for automatic event-long savings. Stack up those rewards to save even more.
Enjoy savings on top of savings when you shop in store or online for easy drive up and go,
pick up or delivery. Restrictions apply. See website for full-terms and conditions.
So last week, we got an email from Andre asking us about which episode we talked about route 666.
Well, we actually got an email from Mistress of the Universe, cool name. She says,
the story about Highway 666 was actually called Stories from Hell Town by Aaron,
and it was on episode 211. It was about Front Royal, Virginia. They called it Hell Town because
it was off exit 6 on Highway 66. Then she goes on to say, I remembered it because I lived just
outside of DC and have been to Front Royal several times. It doesn't need its exit and highway
numbers to be Hell Town. It's a little trash town harsh, but hey, you know better than us.
Yeah, definitely, and it's funny that the episode was so recent 211. That was just like a couple
months ago, right? It feels like it was last year, but yeah. Yeah, it seems way older than that
because I have almost zero memory of it, and that just goes to show like how we're not lying.
When we say we have no idea what episode or story you're talking about when you're heading to us.
It blurs together so much and it all sounds so familiar and it gets frustrating because
it's like there are memories that are real, but then we start wondering, did this really happen?
I swear it did. You guys could totally gaslight us and mention, hey, remember that episode about
Porkey Pig, slashing that lady's throat in her sleep? We would totally believe that we talked
about a story about that, but I don't know. Yeah, Shannon left a comment referencing episode 221.
My sports disappeared. I want to ask you, what's the first thing you think about when you hear
sport? I thought they were just referencing my love of sports and how versatile they are.
Yes, absolutely. I'm sure they were, but I'm curious like what you think of when you think of
sports? What comes to mind? I'm imagining like a Swiss army knife with a sport that pops out.
Nothing special, no like pop culture reference. That's what you're looking for, but I do have like a
vague Nickelodeon cartoon of a sport, maybe Doug Fanny going camping or something, but no, I'm
drawn of blank. I could see that. That's definitely on on brand. For me, I think of the
Encherito from Taco Bell, because they would always give you a sport to eat it with.
That's a good example of when a sport in and of itself is probably the best tool for the job.
I kind of want to jump ahead to another comment down here by Sam Anderson in referencing
that same episode, Brandon. What pasta are you eating with the spoon? Like what said with love?
Okay. Okay. Listen, you got Orzo, Miyoki, Mini-Ravioli, those small seashell things, the list,
goes on. I could go on forever, baby. They're small pastas out there, so I think it's
totally valid to eat some pasta with the spoon. Maybe the soupy ones are a bit of a cop out,
but nonetheless, it can be done. Not only that, using a spoon in tandem with a fork when eating
something like spaghetti or a fetishini, that's like the optimal way to do it. You scoop the
spaghetti onto the fork and you press it against the spoon and spin it, you know, forms the perfect
little beehive, nice big bite. Nice little twirl. Let's see. Sessa said, start, scare be in be.
That's great. I don't know why we didn't think of that name. That's perfect. Or did we
did we coin that or did Sessa? I think Sessa did. I don't remember saying that.
Okay. Because it rolls off the tongue so well. It's hard for me to even remember, but that's a great
one. I'd love to do scary indeed. Yeah. We also got a comment from Luther about episode 46 saying,
just for a heads up, they have disproven the myth that we only use a percentage of the brain.
We use a most Oliver brain daily. I think that makes sense. I think if it is like building a house,
you could look at a house and somebody might see somebody putting up drywall and say, hey,
they don't use a nail gun for that drywall. Therefore, they don't use a nail gun for that entire
house. You know what I mean? That's a good analogy. Yeah. You need all the tools, just not all at once.
Yeah. From after reading that, I did a little bit of research on it and it seems that we don't
use all of our brain all at once. That might be where the confusion was. We only use certain portions
for certain things. But from what I read, if we did use all of our brain at once, we would have
seizures. It wouldn't, we couldn't manage that. Yeah. Like using all of your muscles at once. That
does not sound pleasant at all. Though that is a way that I try to get myself to sleep. If I can't
sleep, I'm too antsy. I just like flex every muscle in my body and hold it as long as I can.
Then let go. Oh, it's such a nice relief. You should try it. Yeah. Sounds intense.
Yeah. One last comment here. C. Nambreno says, I just started painting and I got a notification
that your episode dropped perfect timing. I love that you are listening to our podcast while
painting and it maybe inspires your creativity. I would like to ask you, Brando, what do you like to
do when you're listening to a podcast or an audiobook? That's an audiobook, especially. I tend to
give it my full attention. I don't do anything else. But for podcasts, yeah, I know, right? Even
now these days, I tend to read physical books more than the audiobooks. But for podcasts, usually,
it's like chores around the house or if I'm traveling, even if it's just 15 minutes to work, I'll
listen to a short episode of something. But typically with podcasts, I don't just lounge around
listening to podcasts unless it is like yeah, doing chores or something like that. But not just
for leisure in and of themselves. What about you? Yeah, I like to throw one on when I'm doing the
dishes or if I'm like out in the garage and I'm not in the mood to listen to music, which is
normally what I'm doing out there. I'll throw out a podcast while I clean up the garage or
something. But it's always doing chores. I can't sit and listen to a podcast. As far as audiobooks go,
yeah, I'm kind of the same way. I don't know why, but I shifted from audiobooks to just reading
books. It's probably just because the e-reader, the paper white is just such a great tool. It
keeps me coming back. Yep. And it pays for itself if you're resourceful.
So jumping into the stories, I want to talk about that click story from Stormy Seas.
It feels like this click or whatever the author's experiencing. It sounds like fighter flight.
When you hear a child scream or you get some bad news, for instance, when you found your
daughter's backpack and you know that panic, that fighter flight, and she wasn't there near her
backpack and you thought you thought it was missing. That feeling, your whole body just breaks into
a cold sweat. Your ears start raining and it feels like time just stops and you just feel sick.
It makes me wonder if the experience that this author is having with these clicks could be some
type of subconscious anxiety symptom. Maybe their nervous system is getting its wires crossed and
causing these random fighter flight symptoms. I was thinking more along the lines of just having a
good solid intuition, but it could be something a bit darker than that. It could be a real sense of
dread for a valid reason or a mix of the two, you know, could be anything. Yeah, and it seems
to only pop up in pivotal moments, even though they don't really understand what those pivotal
moments are about. You know, it's kind of like the butterfly effect. One little decision affects
your entire future. Just killing one butterfly, turning the wrong way, can just completely affect
what happens in your future. Would you want this like this weird butterfly effect moment where
you know, this seemingly mundane thing like going down a certain aisle at the grocery store
could be a pivotal moment? I feel like it would be paralyzing for me.
Yeah, no, it's kind of like having a superpower if you could read other people's minds.
Sounds cool at first, but you would just be filled with anxiety at all times and
probably having a bleaker look on humanity as a whole if you knew what every single person was
thinking. So I would like to think no, kind of like knowing exactly when we're going to die.
Oh, yeah. But if it's going to save my life like a, hey, don't do that or else, and
something vague, then yeah, sure. Yeah, I think you're right. It kind of feels like a gut feeling
or intuition, but on steroids, like everything slows down and they get like a moment to...
It's like in Red Dead Redemption when you duel people and it slows down, you get to pick off
the gun right in their hands. Yeah. Yeah, bullet time. That's exactly what's happening here. Yeah.
It also sounds kind of similar to Deja Vu, not in the sense of what's happening, but it's kind of
like a surreal moment and it feels purposeful. Yeah, it does. Great story overall, and interesting
sensation, something that I haven't really heard of yet on the show. Speaking of sensations,
how about what went down with Genevieve at the Behybe School? Wow, that was a lot. First of all,
really, really sorry, all that happened to you. Sounds like you're doing a lot better now.
Really happy to hear that. I'm glad that you were able to use Urban Exploration as an outlet
to kind of heal yourself and regain that sense of power. That's really cool. You and I did that.
It wasn't exactly a therapeutic thing, but we did have our fair share of Urban Exploration
back in the day. We should get back into that maybe. As long as it doesn't involve climbing
on top of buildings. Shucks. I recently had vertigo. It was a nightmare and I added a little
taste of what you went through. I've always gotten it when I would climb up too high. I would
start things would start spinning. It would be a nightmare. As long as it doesn't involve climbing
up to high places, I'm with you. I do want to explore and exploring in abandoned school. Sounds
like a lot of fun. This one was interesting. It was built in 1917 after the very brief research
that I did, but there's nothing about it showing that it's haunted or that it's a known haunted
location. Maybe Genevieve uncovered something here. Very interesting. Maybe other people start
exploring it and send in some additional stories. It's the repeated theme that we keep saying
and we keep bringing up of trauma causing some type of supernatural or paranormal type of event.
Some people just kind of opens up those channels. I don't know what the explanation is for it.
I don't know what the correlation is why it's there, but it does seem to be a recurring theme.
It's almost like base jumping. A lot of people out here love to go base jumping. You see a lot
of it. People that do it are letting go of some sort of trauma or some sort of weakness that they
feel within themselves and that's their way of confronting a controllable type of fear and
making it out a lot better in a lot better state than they started. It's really cool to see.
But as far as the story itself, the whole, all the electronics going out at once, not just
just the flashlight, just the phone. We had the camera dying with it too. I don't know if any
natural things that can cause that. Yeah, definitely not a coincidence, at least mechanically speaking,
plus the smell, feeling watched and throwing up. Yeah, something was definitely up at that place.
Totally side track here. We're going to go off on an on trail that I threw up recently. It was
when I got vertigo and I got to say throwing up has gotten a lot easier as I've gotten older.
It used to be a nightmare. It used to be like, I do everything that I could not to throw up because
it just is such a terrible experience. But now as I'm getting older, I'm like, I guess maybe it's
just realizing how much better you feel after you've thrown up. Yeah, it's like a sneeze now.
Throwing up is much easier as you get older. So if you're a young and listening to this podcast,
it gets easier. Yeah, exactly. I just don't like knowing all the acid that hits the teeth.
Be careful. Don't immediately brush or do anything crazy after maybe a quick rinse with water.
And yeah, I don't make any set of moves. Otherwise, you could really mess up your teeth.
And don't eat lemons with salt. I did that for way too long. And I'm kind of paying for it now.
Yeah. Yeah. I did find it interesting that there was your typical boy was killed at the school
story to kind of just add to the Scooby Doo haunted myth of the school, even though there was no
record of that whatsoever. Yeah, who knows if that really had an impact on everything that,
like the darkness that loomed out there. Maybe the boys killing, supposed killing occurred,
or maybe other people, other locals explored felt something dark and made up a backstory.
Who knows? Yeah. Well, if we are going to go urban exploring, I'd rather do non-urban
exploring and go somewhere like skin walker ranch. Hey, there we go. That's my, that's my transition.
Good segue. I like it. I like it. Yeah. And you know, Anne's boyfriend Ray owns 15 acres nearby,
so hint him. We'd love to visit. Yeah. We would love to visit. Send us a message, man.
That story was an email. I did get that in the Let's Not Meet inbox. So if you're listening,
we'd love to come check it out. Do you know anything about you went to Bayesian?
Are you familiar with it? Uh, not the Bayesian specifically. I know like the Uintaz,
they run east to west, which is apparently not very common in America. And they're like more
of a flat plateau. But yeah, other than that, we have the wasatch range. But yeah, nothing remarkable.
Okay. Well, I did find this one really spooky because listen, I have multiple motions since
our lights around my property in my house. And I've never once had a false positive pop up
in my notifications, even if like a bug flew by a lot of the times it still, you know, won't pick it
up because we have tons of bugs in our backyard. These wasps, everything flying by. And it never
picks that kind of stuff up. They're really good at detecting motion, but they're also really cheap.
I would imagine anyone with property near Skywalker Ranch probably has invested in some high-tech gear.
And for it to pick up motion and film the exact moment and the exact place where the author
said they saw this person transform into a deer and, you know, move, which would cause the motion
sensors to go off. But nothing beyond the camera. I mean, come on. There's, I don't, I can't think of
any weighted bump this. Yeah, I don't know. Reminds me of the druids and world of warcraft. How you
can shape shift. Yeah, they do that in Baldur's Gate 3 as well. I like to transform into a smaller
character so I can crawl in little holes and cracks. Don't we all? Yeah. Yeah, I found that story to
be very creepy because as far as my experience goes with motion sensor cameras, they don't just
get false positives at the exact moment when somebody saw an apparition. Yeah. And if all those
fails, just drop a little one liner on your own buddy. Hope for the best. Yeah. Well, anyways,
if you guys have a story to share, send it to stories at oddtrails.com and sign up for a
patreon at patreon.com forward slash odd trails to get ad free versions of all of our episodes at
a higher bit rate and check out the new episodes of my other podcasts. Let's not meet in the
old time radiocast at crypticcountybodcasts.com. We'll see you guys next week. Stay safe. Peace out.
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