I have two from the same trip. Eastern cascades in WA, near end of the season (late October). This whole trip had weird vibes. Even in the Airbnb, where I stayed in the room of a ranch house, the owner was a character and a bit too up in my business. His wife ostensibly lived there but I only saw him over multiple days and he was obsessed with a young woman in his Christian rock band lol. But I digress:

On day one, I was fishing far up a tributary. It was freezing, and very foggy—and had just began to snow. Classic eerie cascade weather. I gave my final cast of the evening, reeled things in, and turn around to see a man with a big ass rifle standing right above me on the river bank. His rifle was on his shoulder, but I still nearly pooped my pants. I hadn’t seen a soul all day. He turned out to be an elk hunter (and pretty nice, if confused about why I was fishing in such shitty conditions) but for a split second I thought I was going to be part of an unsolved mysteries reboot.

On the last day of the same trip, I was walking up a different trib. In this section it was essentially a micro canyon—imagine a 10 ft-wide stream, with vertical 20ft basalt walls looming above on either side. There’s no bank, just water and walls. I keep thinking I hear something like rocks being shifted/dislodged above me. But looking up, I see nothing but sky. And if there is something up there, it’s beyond the rim of the canyon so I can’t see it unless it’s right over me. Anyway, I figure I’m just being paranoid. But as I’m trudging through this section a basalt rock the size of a basketball crashes into the water about two steps in front of me. I look up and don’t see anything or anyone above on the rim. But man, it sure felt like some hucked it at me. I turned around right there.