Catherine

They thought I was suffering from exposure. I told them what I saw. They didn't believe me, but they didn't argue either. They just nodded. And one of them, a bearded older guy who looked like he'd worked this area for decades, leaned in and whispered, You weren't the first, and you won't be the last. They never found Danny's body, not even his prints.

The park closed the entire section near Swallow Point indefinitely due to ice instability. That's what they told the news. I haven't gone camping since. Sometimes late at night, I'll hear wind outside my apartment window. A low, hollow howl. And sometimes, just barely, I swear I hear my own voice whispering from across the dark.

The park closed the entire section near Swallow Point indefinitely due to ice instability. That's what they told the news. I haven't gone camping since. Sometimes late at night, I'll hear wind outside my apartment window. A low, hollow howl. And sometimes, just barely, I swear I hear my own voice whispering from across the dark.

By the time we reached Baxter State Park, it didn't feel like the end. It felt like the beginning of something we weren't supposed to see. Sarah and I had been hiking the Appalachian Trail for six months straight. Nobo, northbound, the long way. We'd been through heat waves in Georgia.

By the time we reached Baxter State Park, it didn't feel like the end. It felt like the beginning of something we weren't supposed to see. Sarah and I had been hiking the Appalachian Trail for six months straight. Nobo, northbound, the long way. We'd been through heat waves in Georgia.

storms in virginia black flies in vermont and now here we were late september two days from finishing the leaves in northern maine were already half-way to red and the air had that early bite to it cold clean and too quiet Most thru-hikers finish earlier in the season. By then the trail was nearly abandoned. We didn't see another soul for two days leading into Baxter.

storms in virginia black flies in vermont and now here we were late september two days from finishing the leaves in northern maine were already half-way to red and the air had that early bite to it cold clean and too quiet Most thru-hikers finish earlier in the season. By then the trail was nearly abandoned. We didn't see another soul for two days leading into Baxter.

Just gray skies, empty trees, and silence. Mount Katahdin loomed ahead. 5,000 feet of bare rock and sharp ridges. I'd dreamed about that summit since Springer Mountain, but when we finally stood beneath it, something in my gut twisted. The mountain didn't look majestic. It looked ancient, like it had been waiting for us.

Just gray skies, empty trees, and silence. Mount Katahdin loomed ahead. 5,000 feet of bare rock and sharp ridges. I'd dreamed about that summit since Springer Mountain, but when we finally stood beneath it, something in my gut twisted. The mountain didn't look majestic. It looked ancient, like it had been waiting for us.

We checked in with a ranger at Katadine Stream Campground to confirm our rote. He was in his sixties, thick beard, looked like the kind of guy who'd seen things but never talked about them. When we told him we were planning to summit via Knife Edge and descend through Dudley Trail, he squinted through the fog behind us and said, Knife Edge is open, but fog's been thick lately. Be careful up there.

We checked in with a ranger at Katadine Stream Campground to confirm our rote. He was in his sixties, thick beard, looked like the kind of guy who'd seen things but never talked about them. When we told him we were planning to summit via Knife Edge and descend through Dudley Trail, he squinted through the fog behind us and said, Knife Edge is open, but fog's been thick lately. Be careful up there.

It's easy to lose the trail when the clouds roll in. Some folks have gone missing this season. Three, I think. Missing how? I asked. He shrugged. Gear left behind. Campsite's still warm. No bodies. No radio contact. Makes you hear things that aren't real. Sarah raised an eyebrow at me like, okay, horror movie vibes. But we thanked him and moved on. We camped at Chimney Pond that night.

It's easy to lose the trail when the clouds roll in. Some folks have gone missing this season. Three, I think. Missing how? I asked. He shrugged. Gear left behind. Campsite's still warm. No bodies. No radio contact. Makes you hear things that aren't real. Sarah raised an eyebrow at me like, okay, horror movie vibes. But we thanked him and moved on. We camped at Chimney Pond that night.

The spot was perfect. Nestled against the east face of Katadin, with a narrow alpine lake reflecting the sheer stone cliffs above us. The silence was total. No wind, no insects, no birds. Just cold and the distant sound of dripping water echoing off the cliffs. I woke up sometime around 2am to the sound of branches snapping. Not twigs, thick branches, crunch, crack, pause.

The spot was perfect. Nestled against the east face of Katadin, with a narrow alpine lake reflecting the sheer stone cliffs above us. The silence was total. No wind, no insects, no birds. Just cold and the distant sound of dripping water echoing off the cliffs. I woke up sometime around 2am to the sound of branches snapping. Not twigs, thick branches, crunch, crack, pause.

Then again, I thought maybe it was a moose or a bear, so I reached over to shake Sarah awake, but her eyes were already open. She whispered, something's pacing out there. We waited in silence. Nothing else came. When we checked in the morning, there were no prints. Just that eerie feeling in your chest when you know something was close. Still, we geared up and started our ascent.

Then again, I thought maybe it was a moose or a bear, so I reached over to shake Sarah awake, but her eyes were already open. She whispered, something's pacing out there. We waited in silence. Nothing else came. When we checked in the morning, there were no prints. Just that eerie feeling in your chest when you know something was close. Still, we geared up and started our ascent.

Knife Edge Trail is exactly what it sounds like. A long, narrow ridge connecting several peaks, with sheer drop-offs on either side. One misstep, and you're gone. It's not a trail you want to rush. The fog started rolling in as we reached Pomola Peak. At first it was just mist, but within minutes the trail disappeared behind us in a wall of white and visibility dropped to maybe 10 feet.

Knife Edge Trail is exactly what it sounds like. A long, narrow ridge connecting several peaks, with sheer drop-offs on either side. One misstep, and you're gone. It's not a trail you want to rush. The fog started rolling in as we reached Pomola Peak. At first it was just mist, but within minutes the trail disappeared behind us in a wall of white and visibility dropped to maybe 10 feet.

Wind gusted over the ridge howling through rock crevices like something screaming far off in the distance. We kept moving, careful and deliberate. Sarah was ahead, her orange pack barely visible. Then she disappeared. Just like that. I called out her name. No answer. I waited. Called again. Still nothing. Then from the fog ahead I heard her voice. Hey. Back here. Flat. Quiet. Wrong.