real horror story backcountry Montana — Submitted by: Nathan C. from Denver, Colorado
Every summer, my brother and I take a hiking trip deep into Montana’s backcountry. No phones. No GPS. Just maps, packs, and our dog, Riley. It’s our tradition.
In 2021, we tried a new route in the Lewis and Clark National Forest—off the beaten path, marked only on some old forums. We were two days in when we started to notice things… out of place.
First, it was the silence. No birds. No rustling trees. Just the sound of our boots crunching on the trail.
Then, the scratches. Carved into trees along our path—long, jagged claw marks, too deep for any animal I know. Some looked fresh.
That night, our camp was surrounded by heavy footfalls. We thought it was a bear—until we heard a low, rasping breath just outside the tent. Riley, our fearless dog, whined and refused to leave the tent the next morning. That was our first real warning.
On the third day, we found a clearing—at the center was a large stone structure. Primitive, circular, and eerily clean. Like someone—or something—was maintaining it.
In the middle lay a single word written in stones:
“RUN.”
We didn’t sleep that night. We packed up and hiked nonstop for 16 hours until we hit the nearest ranger station. The trail we followed?
It’s not on any official map.
And that stone formation?
The ranger simply said,
“You’re not the first to come out of there scared. But most… don’t come out at all.”
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