3 True Fall Horror Stories for a Cold October Night

It was November last year. I live in Portland and usually try to get out as often as I can and take advantage of living in such a beautiful state by going for hikes or camping. Personally, I don't like crowded trails. So, for this camping trip, I went to a smaller backpacking trail in Northeast

Oregon within Wallowa-Whitman National Forest. If you don't know much of the state, the northeast portion is the farthest from all the major cities and the least occupied. The forests over there are usually less appealing to most people. I drove 5 hours through the afternoon to get there, then hiked 5 miles in and set

my camp up in a small clearing about a mile from the viewpoint. Being late fall, it was pretty cold out. I had my coats, a minus zero-degree sleeping bag, and spent 30 minutes gathering up plenty of wood for a campfire. And for anyone who doesn't go camping in the cold, so long as you have a good

cold weather-rated sleeping bag, it really isn't so bad at night. It's only really bad when it stays that cold during the day or if you have to get up at night and leave your sleeping bag for whatever reason. Anyway, I spent the night by the campfire and eventually got my sleeping bag and fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was still very dark, but I'd guess 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning and I could hear footsteps crunching in the cold leaves around the campsites. It was for sure a person walking around about 20 ft from my tent. I couldn't believe anyone was out there in the cold just walking around that

night and especially on the trail that I was on. I didn't want to say anything and thought it better to just pretend to be sleeping in my tent still so they would continue walking away. I listened to the footsteps get quieter and quieter leaving the area. Then it stayed a dead silent for a