It has long been theorized that some hauntings, called residual hauntings, are like recordings. Somehow, incidents from the past are imprinted on the environment. And somehow those recordings occasionally play back, and we can see and hear them as haunting activity. This seems to be the case with many haunted houses, castles and institutions. Are such phantom recordings just as likely in outdoor locations? It seems so, as those who have experienced such phenomena as ghost trains and the spectral soldiers at battlefields like Gettysburg would testify. This may, in fact, be what Stacy G. experienced in the wild and beautiful New Mexico desert on a camping trip with her children. This is Stacy’s story....
ONE OF MY favorite activities is to head out with my husband or one of my friends for a weekend of “primitive camping”. Since we live in New Mexico, there are plenty of remote and undiscovered places to see. Normally, we'll drive way out into the middle of nowhere and pitch camp. We'll stay for two or three nights, then pack up and go home. During that time, we'll cook over an open fire and enjoy a couple of days of total peace and solitude. Usually, the only sign of civilization is a distant airplane flying overhead.
In August, 2003, I had the brilliant idea to take my three then-teenage kids (two girls, one boy) on a long weekend and head out to one of the more remote and beautiful places I had discovered in an earlier jaunt. This spot was north of Santa Rosa, and since we live in Clovis, the trip up would take us about 2½ hours to get there. I envisioned campfires, laughter, stories and a few days of togetherness without the hassles of our everyday routines. What we got was much spookier and a lot darker.
GETTING TO THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE
We arrived late on a Friday afternoon with the intention of spending two nights and leaving at our leisure sometime Sunday. The spot was very remote and very beautiful. We hadn't seen any animals or people the last 15 miles of our journey. The last two miles of our trip was overland – kind of tricky, since there were ruts and huge rocks on the ground. During those last few miles, I could only drive 1-2 mph. We had to constantly watch for the errant boulder or swerve to miss yet another arroyo. The terrain was typical desert New Mexico with some short, scattered trees, but mainly rocks and scrub brush. That part of New Mexico is gorgeous with the colorful mesas and wide open skies.
We found our spot east of one of those mesas. Since I had been there a few months ago with a friend, I knew it to be isolated and peaceful. But as soon as we got there, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of anxiety and general unease. Being surprised by my own reaction, I tried to ignore my feeling of dread and put on a happy front for my kids.
As we gathered firewood for the fire and set up the tent, the sun started to dip in the horizon. The sunset was fantastic and we should have been relaxed and happy, but the overall mood was somber and anxious. I need to add that my kids are normally very comfortable in the outdoors and will typically enjoy these excursions. So the somber mood was a bit of a surprise after the jovial ride up and anticipation of a weekend with no worries.
After we got the fire going, the sun had set and it had gotten dark. We gathered around and were contentedly roasting hotdogs and marshmallows when the silence was suddenly broken by a woman's terrified scream. We all jumped and looked at each other. The scream sounded like it was right next to us! We grabbed the flashlights and looked around, not knowing what to expect. There was nothing... just my SUV and the tent, the surrounding (short) vegetation and the wide open sky. Shakily, we passed it off as a harmless wild animal. Secretly, I worried about mountain lions and my unease only deepened.
Next page: Ghosts of campers and cattle
