Memory being what it is, I'd remembered the events of the Labor Day weekend of 1992, but it didn't occur to me to relate them here until now... A conversation with my sister-in-law about odd happenings brought them to mind.
As I said, it was the Friday starting the Labor Day weekend. At that point, I'd lived in Cleveland for about a year, and my friends Dave and Buddi often visited on the weekends. Generally, we'd take three or four camping trips over the summer, but for various reasons, we were unable to get away until Labor Day. It was a hot day, even for early September, and the four of us, Dave, Buddi, Buddi's friend Missy and myself were sweatily trudging along the trail leading toward our campsite, loaded with gear, with Doag, Dave's dog, romping alongside.
The first odd thing (of that trip, anyhow) happened as we were crossing an old field, with the treeline ahead of us. Doag, as was often his wont, raced ahead of us, nearly knocking me down as he barreled past me, disappearing into the woods ahead.
No sooner was the dog out of sight than... He came past again. He (just one of him, thankfully), was waiting for us at the campsite when we arrived.
We set up our campsite, gathered some wood, and had dinner. About the only strange thing that night was the sound of something circling just out of firelight, never there when we shined our flashlights in its direction.
The next day, Saturday, came the next oddity. It was about 2-something in the afternoon, and I went to get firewood. I followed the path I'd mentioned in a previous account, that lead to a large supply of deadfall. The path lead in a straight line from our campsite to the marshy stand of dead trees, about fifty yards or so- the trees were plainly visible from the campsite, and vice versa.
I picked up an armload of wood, from right in front of me, and turned around to return, when I noticed that the path was gone, and I couldn't see the campsite. Obviously, this concerned me a wee bit.
Not being exactly sure which way to go, I decided to walk in the direction directly behind me, as that WAS the way I'd come. I walked about thirty yards or so, when I heard sounds coming from my left... When I looked that way, I could see the campsite to my left, about twenty yards off. When I got back to the campsite, the path was where it was supposed to be.
That night, not only did we experience the unseen prowling something, but we were treated to small chunks of wood being lobbed at us from the darkness; Dave and I took flashlights and scouted in the direction they were coming from, but saw nothing. When we returned, Missy pointed out that the wood seemed to appear at the top of its arc, then fall toward us--it wasn't just the illumination of the fire. This went on for over an hour. Also, our flashlights repeatedly dimmed and brightened, even though they all had new batteries.
We left the next day; the girls weren't happy with the thought of spending another night there. Except for a couple of day hikes Dave and I made to the site, this was our last visit to the area.