Aaron Miller

I shook my head, annoyed at myself for letting imagination take control. This was still the CDT, a marked, mapped, and thoroughly explored route. I was a rational, experienced outdoorsman, not someone prone to panicking over minor technical issues. Pushing forward seemed the best choice. Eventually the ridge would crest and I'd have a clear vantage point. So, I pressed on.

I shook my head, annoyed at myself for letting imagination take control. This was still the CDT, a marked, mapped, and thoroughly explored route. I was a rational, experienced outdoorsman, not someone prone to panicking over minor technical issues. Pushing forward seemed the best choice. Eventually the ridge would crest and I'd have a clear vantage point. So, I pressed on.

The next few hours felt like a dream, or perhaps more accurately, a nightmare. The terrain never changed significantly, despite my climbing. Switchbacks became monotonous repetitions of themselves. Trees, rocks, and the steepening path appeared identical to what I'd already traversed.

The next few hours felt like a dream, or perhaps more accurately, a nightmare. The terrain never changed significantly, despite my climbing. Switchbacks became monotonous repetitions of themselves. Trees, rocks, and the steepening path appeared identical to what I'd already traversed.

I placed deliberate markers along the trail, stones stacked conspicuously, distinct pieces of brightly colored flagging tape wrapped around branches. Yet no matter how far I climbed, I seemed trapped in the same stretch of forest. As evening approached, darkness seeped into the valley beneath the thick branches, shadows spreading like ink.

I placed deliberate markers along the trail, stones stacked conspicuously, distinct pieces of brightly colored flagging tape wrapped around branches. Yet no matter how far I climbed, I seemed trapped in the same stretch of forest. As evening approached, darkness seeped into the valley beneath the thick branches, shadows spreading like ink.

A chill ran through me as I radioed the nearest ranger station. My voice was tight and measured, masking the anxiety I felt. This is Aaron Miller, solo hiker on the CDT south of Gibbons Pass, I began. My coordinates aren't updating. My GPS is frozen. Compass is acting erratically. Elevation unchanged despite hiking steadily uphill.

A chill ran through me as I radioed the nearest ranger station. My voice was tight and measured, masking the anxiety I felt. This is Aaron Miller, solo hiker on the CDT south of Gibbons Pass, I began. My coordinates aren't updating. My GPS is frozen. Compass is acting erratically. Elevation unchanged despite hiking steadily uphill.

I'm not sure what's happening, but I'm going to set up camp and reassess in the morning. Static crackled back at me. After an unsettling pause, a distant, slightly distorted reply came through. Copy that, Miller. Coordinates received. Signal clear. Keep radio handy overnight. I made camp quickly, picking a spot beside a familiar boulder, despite my unease.

I'm not sure what's happening, but I'm going to set up camp and reassess in the morning. Static crackled back at me. After an unsettling pause, a distant, slightly distorted reply came through. Copy that, Miller. Coordinates received. Signal clear. Keep radio handy overnight. I made camp quickly, picking a spot beside a familiar boulder, despite my unease.

By firelight, the rock's shadow stretched out, resembling something misshapen and ominous.

By firelight, the rock's shadow stretched out, resembling something misshapen and ominous.

the forest around me was strangely silent no wind rustled the leaves no birds called it felt unnatural oppressive just before i turned in i radioed one more time my voice dropping to a tense whisper despite myself i don't know if you're hearing this clearly but something feels off i'll check again at first light

the forest around me was strangely silent no wind rustled the leaves no birds called it felt unnatural oppressive just before i turned in i radioed one more time my voice dropping to a tense whisper despite myself i don't know if you're hearing this clearly but something feels off i'll check again at first light

I lay in my sleeping bag, staring at the thin fabric of my tent, heart thrumming rapidly. Rational explanations slipped away like sand through my fingers. Tomorrow, I promised myself, things would look clearer. They didn't. I awoke to daylight filtering through the tent, dim and gray. It wasn't the crisp mountain morning I'd expected. It felt diluted, washed out somehow.

I lay in my sleeping bag, staring at the thin fabric of my tent, heart thrumming rapidly. Rational explanations slipped away like sand through my fingers. Tomorrow, I promised myself, things would look clearer. They didn't. I awoke to daylight filtering through the tent, dim and gray. It wasn't the crisp mountain morning I'd expected. It felt diluted, washed out somehow.

i rolled over checking my watch just past nine my phone lying beside my sleeping bag still read seven twelve a m frozen like the gps i sat up quickly a surge of nausea rising outside the tent the forest remained impossibly silent No rustling leaves, no bird calls, no distant trickle of water. Only a heavy, unnatural quiet.

i rolled over checking my watch just past nine my phone lying beside my sleeping bag still read seven twelve a m frozen like the gps i sat up quickly a surge of nausea rising outside the tent the forest remained impossibly silent No rustling leaves, no bird calls, no distant trickle of water. Only a heavy, unnatural quiet.

I stepped out carefully, half expecting the landscape to have changed overnight. But the same cluster of larch trees stood watch, and that tilted boulder was still positioned exactly as I'd seen it yesterday. I moved toward the campfire ring I'd hastily constructed on a patch of flat bedrock. Ashes lay cold, undisturbed. I crouched, running my fingers through the remnants.

I stepped out carefully, half expecting the landscape to have changed overnight. But the same cluster of larch trees stood watch, and that tilted boulder was still positioned exactly as I'd seen it yesterday. I moved toward the campfire ring I'd hastily constructed on a patch of flat bedrock. Ashes lay cold, undisturbed. I crouched, running my fingers through the remnants.