Wallowa lake rv parks

Anyone down to shred some dirtjumps at guelph lake or carpool to the park (joyride etc)

I'm planning a trip for August 12th/13th to August 17th to backpack in the IPWA. Looking to have a group of 7, all fairly experienced backpackers. Thinking either setting up a shuttle with our cars to hike Glacier->Neva->Arapaho->Buchanan->Coney Creek ~40 miles, OR Coney Flats Trailhead into Buchanan BZ to set a base camp and do day hikes out of. Definitely wanting to make a point to hike over to Lone Eagle Peak as the pictures I've found are breathtaking.
Never been to that area before so I don't have any idea of what other highlights we should hit. Main goal for the group is hiking to see the land and a decent bit of fly fishing. Been using the following resources for info thus far:

• Map of the areas
• Interactive Trail Map
• BEAR CANISTER POLICY 2022
• Reservation Site
• River and Stream Fishing Areas/Info
• Lake and Pond Fishing Areas/Info
• Fish Survey and Management Data
• IPWA Fly Fishing Guide Book - Haven't bought yet but heard good things, wondering if it's worth it?

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If there are any highlight you think I can't miss out on please let me know!! Also I'm wondering what the parking situation is? I've already looked into getting backcountry overnight permits, but unsure if I need a permit/pass/reservation to park at Coney Flats TH or Rainbow Lakes TH?

First timer here.
Is it acceptable to park 25-ft RV at Walmart (Flagstaff, AZ) for 6 hours? If yes, what's the best practice to park? Occupy 2x2 lots or 4x1 (across)?

Hey all!
Any recommendations for beach like locations near us? We used to go to the bluffs a lot when we lived in North York but would love somewhere more local. We aren't picky if it's more of a park (ie no sand) but has a swimmable lake.

It starts out so 'fun' and so innocent. Drinking at parties and telling silly stories the next morning. Going to the bar until 2 am with your friends every few weekends. Cold camping beers in the sun. Always coupled with a hangover and a bit of self-loathing, but still something you just do once in awhile and that is mostly just a good time.
Over the years, it morphs into a sad and pathetic existence void of all meaning. Your only drive in life is to drink. You truly think of nothing else. Life is literally about when you can buy/consume your next drink. For me, it morphed into drinking alone in my car in a secluded parking lot on a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning at 10 am. Seeing people out running races, biking, going on walks with their dogs and partners, going swimming in lakes, playing soccer in the fields, having a coffee at a cafe in the sun.....watching in misery from a distance at people living their lives, something I so desperately want to do. Of course these people aren't all entirely happy and have their own problems, but to me they are free and they don't live in the chains of alcohol addiction. I want to wake up and know that I'm free. I've never been more sad (and determined to quit) than I was yesterday morning.
IWNDWYT.

If I’d only followed my instincts, I’d never have boarded that doomed ship. When the Azure Seastar left port, its passengers were all alive, each with smart phones and watches and tablets, as well as the cruise ship’s own communications… yet not a single message was sent before it went missing! No distress call.
The fates of over a thousand passengers and crew remain unknown, with only a handful recovered from a lifeboat, days after the Seastar herself vanished. But the coast guard’s only statement on the lifeboat’s recovery was that “the passengers did not survive.” Rumors circulated about a “thermos full of eyeballs” and a “passenger whose mouth was stuffed full of severed fingers”—but these details have been denounced as lies, sensationalizing and capitalizing on a tragedy.
The official cause of the Seastar’s disappearance is a rogue wave. No survivors. No witnesses.
Well… one witness…
… but perhaps I shouldn’t tell. Better for the world if that ship stay lost forever!
The families of the missing, however, deserve the truth… which is why I am posting.
But first, a warning—the gruesome snippets I recounted above barely scratch the surface of the horror I am about to share, some of which I took part in. I wake screaming every night. I sleep with the lights on. I never enter darkened hallways or stairwells. And I do not ever shake hands. Although I’ve always had some quirks (the handshake one is an old habit), most of these are fresh, a consequence of my time aboard that doomed cruise ship. I do not intend to gloss over any details, but rather to give a complete accounting, including of my own involvement… so be forewarned.
And understand that my story is one of unimaginable horror.
***
To explain what really happened aboard the Seastar, I need to first tell a little about myself. Sorry, I know I’m like a bit of decorative wallpaper—just sort of there. But I see things.
It all started when I was very young (I do promise this is relevant). I didn’t want to swim in the community pool with my brother because the water was cloudy, hiding a shadowy figure in the deep end. I distinctly remember standing at the pool’s edge, crying inconsolably while my father urged, “Go on, jump in!”
My brother set the example, diving down to the bottom of the foggy water. When he came up, a silver dollar glinted in his fingers, which he dropped back into the pool before I could snatch it. “Oops! Guess you gotta dive for it!” He laughed, the sun shimmering off his sunburned shoulders. “Come on, there’s quarters down here, too!”
Diving for coins was a game we often played, so I plunged in after him, kicking my way down with my eyes squeezed shut. When my hands grazed the rough cement bottom, I patted around.
Silky hair tangled around my fingers like seaweed.
I forced my eyes open against the stinging chlorine—and shrieked.
Wide, empty eyes stared back at me from a bloated face.
When I shot to the surface, wailing about a dead woman in the water, other swimmers looked on, perplexed. My older brother tried to console me and swore there were nothing but coins.
He was correct—not until a week later would a woman drown in that pool, and sink to the bottom of the foggy water while swimmers unwittingly raced laps above her.
***
The next time I saw was when I threw a tantrum over my grandmother’s armchair. It smelled so bad I grabbed my nose and exclaimed, “Ewwww!”
My parents scolded me for my rudeness. Grandma occasionally struggled with incontinence, so for her chair to stink was, they assumed, the result of an accident. They thought I was exaggerating to make fun of her, but in the sweltering summer, the smell was truly unbearable—like rotting meat and diarrhea and cheap perfume all churned together. I threw such a fit we left, though Grandma insisted on hugging me despite my being an “awful brat.” Her skin was wrinkled, papery-thin and soft as silk, but despite the uncomfortable warmth of her apartment, her embrace was ice cold.
Less than a week later the call came. My grandmother had been found after a neighbor’s complaint about the smell…
She’d died in her chair.
***
But when the seeing really clicked was in my tween years, two separate incidents. The first was after a classmate of my brother’s pulled up in a car reeking of burnt meat, the interior charred and black. He stepped out of the car seeming not to notice that behind him, another version of him remained belted into the front seat, unrecognizable through the char beyond the glint of a gold chain melted into his neck. I burst into hysterical tears and screamed at my brother not to let him drive. The classmate laughed and called me a weirdo.
He crashed later that week.
The second incident began at a school function, where my brother chaperoned me. A man pulled up in the school drop-off zone—he was one of the more popular teachers, famous for his yearly pizza parties. In the car with him were two young kids. I can’t remember their names, just that the littlest boy was giggling and clinging to a toy T-rex when he hopped out. My brother and I were asked to help carry the party supplies and drinks from the teacher’s car. But the moment I opened the passenger door to grab a box, the reek of fetid pond water made my stomach lurch. I staggered back, clapping a hand to my nose and mouth.
“Hey! Everything all right?” the teacher asked.
My brother, no doubt remembering what happened to his classmate weeks earlier, took me aside.
“C-c-c-c-cold!” I burst to him. “D-dark! The smell! Like the rot in the bottom of a lake…”
While I wrung my hands and sniffled, my brother watched the two young kids follow the teacher into the school. He shook my shoulder and said, “Hey—hey, we’re going to save them.”
“How? No one ever believes me!”
“I believe you, Hope. Hey…” He gave me a squeeze and looked in my eyes. “‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers…”
What a dork. That line was from Emily Dickinson—my brother’s favorite quote for me for when I was upset. It was corny, but encouraged me.
A few minutes later, we were careening along backwoods roads in the teacher’s car. To this day, I don’t know how my brother got the keys. His plan was we’d stow the car in a garage for a couple weeks, long enough to outlast the vision, since my predictions always came true within about six days. But it hadn’t occurred to either of us how being inside the car would affect me. The damp and rot washed over my skin. COLD. Every hair on my body stood erect, floating as if underwater. I couldn’t breathe… gagging on the fetid water, I rolled down my window. Raindrops from outside pelted my face, and something… something clicked. A sudden terrible question. When I’d peered into the darkened interior, I hadn’t been able to see… who was inside the car?
“Hey,” my brother said, apparently struck by the same thought. “You’re not foreseeing our deaths, are you?”
I don’t know if it was fate that caused us to fishtail just as he spoke. But also he might have hit something, because there was a bump. All I know is suddenly we were flying, off the road and over the side toward a lake, and then plunging, and I snatched for his hand as the impact slammed us forward into the dashboard. Then the water wasn’t just in my mind. It was real. It was pouring in through the car window.
I fought, flailing. Unbuckled. Floundered through the half-open window. Luckily I was still small enough to get through, swimming up and breaking the surface.
“Cory!” I screamed. “CORY!!!”
But I knew already that my brother wasn’t coming up—his hand had been cold when I’d touched it.
***
Naturally, his death feels like my fault. Oh, in kinder moments I remember that I was a child, and try to forgive myself for letting him get behind that wheel. But for a time, I was driven by the fierce need to atone. I sought desperately to save even one life… ANY life. I’d see a body swaying from a beam in a construction site. Legs dangling from a trunk in the car on the highway ahead of me. A suitcase on sale in a luggage store, dripping blood. Every time I tried to prevent the death… only to fail or worse, cause it. Each loss drove home more deeply my shame, my failure… until eventually…
I gave up.
I don’t try to prevent the deaths anymore. These days I catch a whiff of that familiar sickly putrid scent, and I leave. I avoid human touch, especially handshakes.
I’ve truly become wallpaper. Able to see. Powerless to prevent.
My name, incidentally, is Cassandra… I changed it because I could no longer bear my birth name. If “Hope” is the thing with feathers, I was an angel of death, harbinger of doom to my brother and others. So instead I call myself after the Greek priestess doomed to foresee the future but never to be believed… unable to prevent even one single tragedy.
***
But let’s get back to the cruise. The missing passengers. The eyeballs in the thermos—oh, those grisly details! Mind you, once you know you can’t un-know, no matter how much you drink, or smoke, or however you drown your despair. Speaking of drowning, a month ago today, I hit the big 4-O. I celebrated my four decades of life by doing the one thing I’ve done consistently since I was old enough—drinking away my failures. Every icy grip. Every unheeded warning. And especially the times I’ve well and truly fucked up. Oh yes. Those are the ones that call for some hard forgetting.
I was on my second or seventh drink at my favorite bar when a voice exclaimed, “’Evening, friend!”
A woman with shimmering purple eyeliner and matching purple hair approached. It was the musician who often played there, Lily Tsuki. To be honest, she was the primary reason I frequented that bar, though we’d hardly spoken beyond my occasional compliments about her playing. She slid into the seat next to mine and clinked my glass.
“Roy at the bar told me it’s your fortieth. I see you in here once a week, always tipping well and drinking like you’re trying to drown yourself. Someone did something kind for me recently, so I’m trying to pass it on…” She fished a hand into her pocket, and to my surprise produced a gift card for a cruise. I didn’t catch all of her story in the noisy bar, but apparently, one of her admirers was very rich, always offering her gifts verging on inappropriate. After finding out she’d be playing on the Azure Seastar, said admirer sent her the card so she could spoil herself on the cruise. She didn’t feel comfortable accepting, so she gifted it to me. “… There’s enough on there to cover your fare. Don’t thank me—thank you, I needed to get rid of it. Enjoy your fortieth, friend!”
As she handed me the card, her fingers brushed mine.
Warm. Alive.
I mumbled my thanks, cheeks warm. Why? Because she chose me? Blushes! I’m an idiot.
Still, I was glowing, and not just because I was tipsy. Why not? I thought. Why not treat myself, this once? The Azure Seastar… it sounded like a dream. I’d go see Lily Tsuki play at the piano bar against the backdrop of a glimmering ocean. I’d drink under the stars. Get a tan. Get my sea legs! And every hand would be warm and every breath would taste of the summer breeze!
***
Nine decks (eleven including the crew-only levels). Over a thousand people. Pool, bars, restaurants, lounges, cafés, spa, cabaret—the Seastar truly was the Ritz Carlton on the water! I was absolutely giddy! Of course before the luxury came the wait—just like the airport, parking, luggage, ticketing, security. It was as I neared the entrance for ticketing, enjoying the summer breeze, that I caught traces of a sour odor… a whiff of decay… so faint beneath the car exhaust and the smell of the saltwater that I might have missed it, were I not so attuned to death. At port, it was likely some unfortunate animal packed into a shipping crate and decomposing. I’d even read horror stories of people, trafficked in sealed shipping containers and asphyxiating. That faint whiff made my insides curdle.
Then I was inside the air conditioned terminal, packed with passengers—and inhaling nothing but the blessed AC.
The check in was surprisingly quick. I followed the embarkation signs up the escalator to the terminal’s upper level, through the double glass doors, greeted on my right by printed images of pool decks and steaks and wine glasses. On my left, through the enormous paned wall of glass, the Seastar herself loomed. My God, she was enormous!
So many decks! So many balconies!
Then I squinted a little closer. What was that speck? A tiny figure, draped on a railing?
My heart dropped to my toes.
Something was horribly wrong.
The figure, small against the massive width of the ship… had no face. Only a torso and most of its arms. It had been decapitated, and dried blood spattered the rail.
My footsteps slowed. I pressed against the glass, eyes rapidly roving the rest of the ship. Was it just one…? One incidence of violence, or…
Perhaps I wasn’t seeing correctly. It was a stunt. A practical joke. A mannequin. I needed to get closer. I hurried along the terminal, joining the line out to the gangplank.
The bowl of the sky had turned deep purple, the sun lowering toward the horizon, and in the Seastar’s deep shadow, the temperature dropped. A sudden chill gripped me as I trotted out onto the gangplank. I sniffed. Sniffed again, more deeply.
Rot.
The same putrid odor I’d caught outside. A passenger ahead of me noticed me grabbing my nose, and remarked, “Not used to that ocean smell?” I did not respond, because now that I was close enough to see the ship more clearly, I noticed… cracked glass… broken panes in the sliding glass doors of the cabins… no! I gasped, sinking to my knees, and the passenger kindly leaned to help me up. As her hand seized mine—it was cold.
I jerked back so fast I actually collapsed into the passengers behind us—a mother and her daughter.
“Oh!” exclaimed the mother.
My hand brushed the daughter’s bare arm. Cold.
“Are you okay?” asked the daughter, a child of about twelve.
I crawled back from her, and another person, an elderly gentleman, leaned down to help me up, his hand on my elbow. Cold!
“Miss?” he asked. “Miss—” But I bolted, barely hearing their cries as I launched myself back toward the terminal. No no no no no no no no—my eyes watered and my belly bunched into knots and my heart lurched into my throat and oh God oh God—the ship! The whole. Entire. Ship. It was… dark… windows broken… Not a single light shining in the interior, and spatters of blood here and there visible on its decks and balconies… But worst of all was the smell. I hadn’t even entered the ship yet and already I knew, knew, in the way only I can know, that the smell wasn’t just one body or two. Not if I could detect it all the way out on the gangplank. All the way at the entrance to the terminal. For the whiff of putrefaction to have spread so far, the source was something massive. A colossal pile of decomposing bodies like a herd of dead elephants.
That ship… no one on that ship was going to make it back…
As I entered the terminal with its blessed filtered air and the windows between me and the ship, I turned and looked at the line stretching behind me. Passengers laughing. Chatting. Dressed in their finest. Flirting. Teasing. Buzzing with excitement. Old and young couples. Children.
Everyone on this ship is going to die…
... and I’m the only one who knows…

Not sure if this has been discussed here, but Fromville seems ok to me. I know I'm a weirdo but I honestly can see myself living there without much problem. No rent, no bills, free food and water - this alone makes it something of a paradise. No phones with annoying calls and texts. Seemingly no predators in the woods or the lake. Most of the community work seems to be physical which is good for the body and mind. Just make sure you lock doors and windows before sundown, put on some blinds, hang the talisman, and you're golden. You could even live in an rv or a bus as long as you have a talisman.
Of course with all the new crazy stuff coming up, it's likely gonna turn into a hellhole but I wouldn't mind being a regular Fromville resident for a few years.

So, my 13 year old daughter has been really hard to deal with lately. And I think it's just teen years, but it has been stressful.
It's the summer. We went to Orlando for 1 week already . She had her friend spend the night last week. Her boyfriend, her friend went to the park pool 3 days in a row. And we saw the new spiderman movie.
But, recently, she never wants to be home. And she wants to spend every weekend with friends at their house. Yesterday I suggested her friend come to our house instead. Since she always goes over there. But, she said no, she will not come to our house. Apparently our house is embarrassing because it's not all white and modern. We own a house built in 1928 and I love color. I have purple walls , dark red wine walls, black entryway, blue blackout curtains, colorful rugs etc. Her best friends house is very modern and in one of the expensive neighborhoods of our city.
Anyways, I asked if her friend could come over here instead and she said no. And to be honest, I'm a bit hurt that she is embarrassed by our house and also annoyed that she is being so mopey after I said "no" this one time to her going over somewhere.
Today she came downstairs all mopey again and complained about how bored she is and I said "how about you go to the park?" "How about you play basketball in our driveway?" (We have a basketball hoop). Then I suggested we go for a bike ride. Nothing is good enough because "it's boring with you guys .".
So, now I'm just tempted to let her mope about the house. And I feel bad that I said no to this weekend of her going to friend's houses, but she goes all the time and even has a trip planned with one friend to go to her friend's parents' lake house for 3 days.
Also, she has a bike and she hates it. She asked for this specific bike last year and now wants me to get another in which I said "no" because she has a bike.
I just feel like nothing we do is good enough. Nothing we say helps the situation. Nothing we offer is good enough.
I don't know how to handle this anymore? Am I wrong to just let her mope if she refuses to do anything at home because I said no to her going to a friend's house this one weekend?

Hi, I bought 2 different parking passes for tomorrows event at Star Lake. One is "Early Tailgate" and the other is "General Admission SEC Park1". Is the Early Tailgate an actual parking ticket or are both going to get me parking for the show? Thanks!

Yesterday, my friend and I visited Cedar Point. We both have platinum passes, and we purchased fast lane plus and the all day dining plan for this visit.
Wild Mouse (credit #102) x1: Luckily, Wild Mouse was actually running today. We went straight to it when we got in for early entry. As far as ride experience goes, it's OK. We didn't love Wild Mouse, but then again, neither of us is a big fan of the wild mouse ride type in general. I acknowledge that I'm not really part of the target demographic for this ride, but I do think that there are much better options as far as family coasters go. (I would've loved for Cedar Point to get a GG family woodie or a modern family Vekoma.)
I'm at least glad I got to experience Wild Mouse and that I rode it first thing in the morning when its wait was 1/2 hour instead of later in the day when it was twice that. I'd probably rank CP's mouse around the middle of the list of all wild mice I've ridden. It's better than many standard mice but isn't as unique as something like Exterminator or Laff Track.
Cedar Point & Lake Erie Railroad x2: After Wild Mouse, the obvious plan was to head to Frontier Town. We rode the train to save us some walking. We also rerode it later in the day. On our first train ride, we were one of only a few groups of people on the train. On our second ride, there was a person in pretty much every seat to the extent that we had to share a row with a stranger. This is a decent train ride that provides views of Lake Erie and the backstage area around Millennium Force. It's a great way to relax for a few minutes.
Maverick x2: This is one of the few coasters I've been on many times where I don't have the layout essentially memorized. Maverick is relentless in the best way possible. You are constantly being whipped and thrown around, and it doesn't really stop until the final brakes. We rerode Maverick as our last ride of the night, and the darkness enhances everything, especially the tunnel. It feels like the launch is twice as fast at night.
Steel Vengeance x3: SteVe was running great. The airtime was so good that it hurt, and the ride seemed to have extra speed. The line was unusually short in the morning, so we rode it twice in a row. Then, we came back and made it our second to last ride of the night. Steel Vengeance truly is one of the greatest coasters on Earth. Even though it's not usually my absolute #1, I don't think that Steel Vengeance is overrated at all. It's one of the few coasters that truly feels "long enough", and none of that time is wasted.
Gemini x1: This classic ride is one of my favorite Arrows. There are a few great moments of janky Arrow airtime, and the racing aspect is pure fun.
Magnum XL-200 x0: We attempted to ride Magnum three different times throughout the day, the first of which was right after our Gemini ride. Unfortunately, Magnum was down all three times. I think there were mechanical issues the first two times, and the third time was due to high winds, which shut down much of the park. It sucked to miss out on Magnum, as it is usually my all-time favorite coaster, but at the same time, I can live with missing it on what is possibly our only Fast Lane Plus Cedar Point trip of the year. Magnum's line is usually quite manageable without Fast Lane.
Corkscrew x1: My friend insisted on riding this, as he wanted to ride every coaster in the park. I'm not a big fan of this ride (or most Arrow loopers), but honestly, Corkscrew was better than I remembered. The only part that I think is really awful is the eponymous corkscrews. The hills and vertical loop were actually enjoyable, and the trains weren't as terribly uncomfortable as in my memory.
Power Tower (drop side) x1: A drop tower is just about always worth riding. These S&S ones are the weakest ones in my opinion but still a good time. I simply prefer drop rides that feel like they're actually trying to kill me rather than the ones like this that gently bounce.
Valravn x1: It's a dive coaster. The first drop is one of the best in the park, but the ride kind of dies after that. The other best part is the drop off the midcourse. The rest of the ride is pretty bland and forgettable.
Blue Streak x1: I've always found this ride to be underrated. It has some pretty decent airtime, especially if you sit near the front, which we did this time. I do wish that it still had the original buzzbar restraints, as I consider that to be a big part of what makes a classic wooden coaster feel like a classic wooden coaster. Still, I'm glad they've kept this ride, and I would say that it is not to be overlooked.
Raptor, Gatekeeper each x0: I wish we would've ridden these rides right after Blue Streak, as they were still open then. We unfortunately missed out on both of them due to the high winds later in the day.
Millennium Force x1: This ride is a bit overhated. The first drop is my favorite first drop on any coaster, the sense of speed is awesome, and there are some good moments of positive and negative gs. Sure, there are a few too many tall turns, but Millie is still a great ride.
Rougarou x1: I've never been a big fan of Rougarou, and I think it might even be my least favorite coaster at Cedar Point now. The layout isn't all that great, and there's a lot of headbanging, particularly in the second half.
Iron Dragon x1: This ride isn't super thrilling, but I enjoy the aesthetics and nostalgia of it. I understand why some people dislike it or want it to be the next ride to be removed, but I disagree. I think Iron Dragon is actually Cedar Point's best family coaster. The Arrow jankiness isn't as pronounced as on Mine Ride, Corkscrew, or Gemini. Iron Dragon also doesn't have the somewhat intense airtime of Blue Streak, and it's less generic than Wild Mouse.
Thunder Canyon, Snake River Falls each x1: Even though I've been to Cedar Point many times, this was my first time riding both of these water rides. Thunder Canyon has a reasonably long course with rapids and waterfalls that will absolutely drench you. Snake River Falls has a drop that is tall and steep for a water ride, though it is trimmed. I also got soaked on it, but that didn't really matter because we rode it right after Thunder Canyon.
Cedar Creek Mine Ride x1: This one is just all right. I'm not a big mine train guy, and this is fairly unimpressive as far as mine trains go. It does have a nice setting, and there was some awesomely weird theming in the brake run that I definitely don't remember being there.
All in all, it was a good Cedar Point trip. I do wish we had gotten to ride Magnum, Raptor, and Gatekeeper, but we've both ridden all three before. The one day dining plan was definitely worth it, and I would recommend that to anyone who's considering it.

Visiting RMNP over the July 4th weekend (I know it’s gonna be packed hence the post). I have my timed entry reservations (park access +) in place for the first day for 8-10 and second day for 6-8. Staying just outside the park in EP.
My question is- If I arrive at the Park and Ride lot in bear lake corridor by 6-6:30 am on Sunday, would I get a parking spot? I don’t expect to park at the trailheads and would actually prefer using the shuttle anyway. Thanks!

Looking for a young woman with an unfulfilled [email protected] Kink who is interested in IRL play.
Me: Dominant/Top, White, Straight, DDF, Veteran, 6' Tall, and much stronger than you. I'm single, live alone, and my kids are grown. I enjoy new people, and risky adventures, so if you have a crazy idea, we might be able to make it happen as long as it only involves consenting adults.
Chat me if you are enthusiastically curious. Please include your age and City/State in your first message if it's not obvious from your profile. If you send a pic, send one with clothes on. If I want to see you naked, I'll undress you myself.
The Safeword Is "Red".
1st Date Ideas. 🌹You're out way too late, you would worry about being robbed, but you're sure you don't have anything anyone would want to take. 🌹You take a wrong turn trail running, and now your lost, but it looks like someone might be living in this part of the park. 🌹You're stuck on the side of the road, no cell phone service, and no one to help you.
Kinks: ● 1950s Household ● Abduction ● Accomplice ● AgePlay ● Anonymous Sex ● Asphyxia Play ● BDSM ● Being Your Father's Age ● Blowing Your Husbands Boss To Get Him A Raise ● Bondage ● Breath Play ● Bruises ● CNC ● Coercion ● Creampie ● Crying ● Daddy/Daughter Roleplay ● DD/LG ● Degradation ● Domestic Abuse ● DubCon ● Exhibitionism ● Face Slapping ● Forced Orgasms ● Free Use ● Groping ●Orgasm Control ● Pain ● PainKink ● Physical Abuse ● Public Play ● Public Orgasms ● Rape Play ● RapeKink ● Rape Kink ● Remote Control Vibrators In Public ● Sexual Slavery ● Stuffing You Into A Duffel Bag ●
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One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.