3 Hours of Scary Skinwalker Stories to Hear in the Dark
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What experiences shaped the narrator's understanding of Skinwalkers?
I worked road maintenance for most of my twenties, which sounds more official than it was. Most of the time it meant patching shoulders, replacing busted signs, cleaning culverts, flagging traffic and heat that made you hate everybody, and listening to older men complain about younger men not knowing how to work. I was never full-time with the state or anything like that. I bounced between contractors. If somebody had a small crew and needed an extra set of hands for a week or two, I showed up, wore the vest, did what I was told, and got paid. That was how I ended up near Shiprock, New Mexico, in July, on a job that was supposed to take six days and ended with one guy in the hospital, one guy quitting before we even got our last check,
and me driving home with my boots and work pants in a trash bag because I didn't want them in the cab with me. I'm going to say right away that I'm not Navajo, and I'm not going to act like I understand things I don't. I grew up in western Colorado, and I had worked around the Four Corners area before, but that doesn't mean I knew anything. I knew enough to be respectful, or I thought I did. I knew not to trespass." I knew not to go wandering around ruins or formations like a tourist with no sense. I knew people had beliefs about certain things, and I knew those things were not mine to play with. What I did not know was how fast a normal job could turn into something nobody wanted to name out loud.
The job was roadside repair and sign work on a stretch outside Shiprock, mostly along roads that got chewed up by runoff and heavy trucks. We had washouts along the shoulder, missing delineator posts, one culvert that kept backing up with sand and trash, and a couple signs that had been bent or shot up, nothing unusual. There were four of us on the crew. Our foreman was a man named Calvin Yazzie, early 50s, calm, hard to impress, and not the kind of guy who wasted words. He had worked roads almost 30 years and could look at a shoulder washout for five seconds and tell you how much base you needed, where the water would go next storm, and which one of us had placed cones too close together. Then there was Luis, who was 40-something from Farmington, funny when he wanted to be but mostly quiet because he had three kids and always looked tired.
Marcus was the youngest besides me, 24, from Albuquerque, strong, loud, friendly, and too eager to prove he wasn't scared of anything. I was 28, and I mostly kept my head down because I was new to that crew and wanted Calvin to call me again for the next job. We were staying in a cheap motel in Farmington and driving out each morning before the worst heat hit. It was still July though, so the worst heat hit by 10. The first day was a Monday. We met in the motel parking lot at 5, loaded coolers, checked cones and signs, and followed Calvin out in the company pickup. We stopped in Shiprock for fuel and breakfast burritos, then headed toward the first work area. I remember the light that morning, because it was one of those desert mornings that looked clean and peaceful before it started trying to kill you.
The sky was pale blue, the ground was red and brown, and Shiprock itself sat out there looking too big and too still, like it had been there before everything else and didn't care what any of us were doing. Calvin was strict about where we parked and where we walked. He told us we were there to work the road and only the road. He said if something was on the other side of a fence, we did not need it. If a dog came around, we ignored it. If someone stopped to ask what we were doing, we let him talk. I thought it was just normal foreman rules. Marcus joked that Calvin made road repair sound like a military operation. Calvin didn't laugh. He just said, you'll be fine if you listen. The first morning went by normal.
We put out cones, cut away bad edges, shoveled, tamped, sweated through our shirts, and drank warm water out of plastic jugs because the ice was gone by nine. There were some houses set back from the road, a few trucks passing, a couple dogs barking from behind fences, and ravens hopping around whenever we dropped food.
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Chapters
8 chapters
1
What experiences shaped the narrator's understanding of Skinwalkers?
0:22–5:27
2
What unusual events occurred during the road maintenance job?
5:27–18:16
3
How did the crew respond to the strange dog encounter?
18:16–26:29
4
What warnings were given about the supernatural during the job?
26:29–1:37:01
5
What unsettling events occur during the night at the motel?
1:37:01–1:38:44
6
How does the group react to the strange occurrences?
1:38:44–1:41:28
7
What happens when the group returns to the motel for the camera?
1:41:28–1:42:35
8
What is the significance of the final encounter with the entity?
1:42:35–3:15:15
Speakers
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