The Last Resident

This story took place in the spring of 2018, when my friend and I were 21 years old. We had met in high school and bonded over our shared love of outdoor adventure. There's an old railroad-turned-gravel trail that winds through the heavy forests and valleys near our midwestern town for over 10 miles.

My friend and I enjoyed walking it at night, partly because that was our only free time and partly because of the thrilling darkness, so far from town. We'd heard plenty of eerie noises that made our hair stand on end.

In the densest, darkest part of the woods, huge trees crowd together, blocking even moonlight and leaving the white gravel nearly invisible. We had a rule against using flashlights, since you can actually see farther without them, even on cloudy nights.

Your view isn't obstructed by all the branches and undergrowth a flashlight would illuminate. Of course we carried them for emergencies, but relied on our eyes adjusting instead.

That darkest stretch also happened to be where a ghost town from the 1920s was located - five old river cabins used for bootlegging back then. They were inhabited into the 1970s before being abandoned. My friend and I had explored and photographed the first three cabins on a previous trip.

On this particular day, after documenting the first three cabins, we made our way across a ravine to the fourth. Its front porch had collapsed, leaving just a steep, vertical board to climb. I pulled myself up and peered into the dark interior.

Then a loud "HISSSS" froze me in place. I smiled at my friend below. "Are you messing with me?" He looked terrified. "That wasn't me," he whispered. Again, "HISSSSS!" I shone my flashlight inside and found an enormous vulture perched on a fallen ceiling beam, wings spread wide. I chuckled. "Let's come back later." We slid down and left.

Vultures are mostly harmless, but I'd heard they can vomit on predators if frightened. I didn't need that.

While not the scariest tale, I hope you enjoyed the imagery. It was quite frightening as it happened, and my friend's face was priceless.

Funnily enough, this wouldn't be my last encounter with that bird...