Authors note: This story is based on the true life events of my great-great grandfather. Please see the comments for more detail. This is the first chapter and the first draft of a much larger book I am writing, based on his life.
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Joe and Fred dragged their feet down an open path, heading south towards Fortine to meet yet another shady employer. To the left laid an open valley of fields. Trees lined the horizon, with mountain tops edging above. To the right, a hilly forest protected the wild nature beyond. Joe and Fred spotted the dark clouds flooding in for the cool night, rolling beneath a June sky. Joe's appearance towered over the plain landscape at nearly six-feet tall. At over 185 pounds, Joe could have been mistaken for 30, when he was only 18 years old. His boyish look accompanied by green eyes that shimmed grey, clashed with his manly physique. His puffed lips, partnered with his square nose, and medium length, straight, dark brown hair could have made him a movie star in thirty or forty years into the future. Joe stood out in a crowd of men. He took a shy disposition with regards to socializing. He preferred to avoid attention. He never could understand why he felt flustered around other people. He wore a burgundy leather jacket over a dirty brown shirt that mismatched his blue jeans and light brown cowboy boots. He lacked a hat, which he sorely wished that he had, under the beating June sun. Fred wore a long navy-blue coat over a dirty white shirt, brown pants, grey suspenders under the coat, a straight-brimmed navy-blue hat, and simple black laborer shoes.
“Thunder rolling through. I don’t like that it’s coming our way.” Fred growled.
“Shouldn’t be a problem, we’ll be in Fortine not long after it gets dark. We need to eat something; it’s been a few days since we saw a meal.” Joe explained.
“That’s right, but I don’t care to go hopping through some farmers field plucking beans from the ground, not after what we dealt with back at the depot. We got enough trouble to worry about. You think Willie took off like we told him to?”
After their last measly job, in which they stole used bicycles, Joe and Fred found themselves on top of a bridge, overseeing a river, in an attempt to tie up loose ends. A man, tied up to cement bricks, was thrown off the bridge into the lake. He broke free of his loose restraints and crawled to shore, while gasping for air. He begged at the feet of Fred, pleading to be freed. His hands clasped, against the coat of Fred.
“Please, please! I swear on my mother’s grave. I’ll go home, back over the border. You’ll never hear from me again.”
Fred looked carefully into Willie’s eyes. He only ever cared about getting away with his crimes. He had no consideration for Willie’s life, or for anyone’s life for that matter.
Back on the trail, Joe made his conclusion. “I care to think that we’re the only ones in this state who know Willie. He drew a bad hand, he wasn’t cut out to do what he wanted. All he can do now is go back home or end up dead.”
Rain clouds rolled across the valley. Wind drifted heavily through fields of tall grass. A pink twilight illuminated the horizon, as the dusk sun and incoming storm battled for control of the sky. Joe thinks back to his home, as a child. He remembers children running around their home and throughout the yard, with their mother. His father, always in the background, sat in an old leather chair while reading a book and smoking his pipe, with a look of emotionless solitude. Joe’s mother picked up the children as they ran around the home, smiling, and kissing them. Joe, one of the oldest sons, sat on the floor on the opposite side of the room from his father and stared into his eyes.
Joe and Fred walked down the path, as a train passed by to their right, through the forest. Lightning flashed in the dark sky to the left. Joe looked up at the sky, with a feeling of awe at both his thoughts, and the weather. He thinks to himself.
“Did you notice, father, when I left? Do you notice my absence now? Too much pain, too much anger to stay where I was. There were 13 of us in the end, brothers and sisters. 13 was too much for you to handle. 13 is one too many. With 12, you know each one will always have another to depend on. With 13 there will always be one who is alone. I’m sorry that mother died, I hope it wasn’t my leaving that killed her. Do you see me now, father? Are you thinking about me at this moment, the same way I think about you?”
Joe and Fred pause their journey under a light rain, during a gap in the storm. They lay out a rag on the side of the trail. On it are a few coins, a matchbox, a fountain pen, and a lit oil lamp. Flies float around the lamp. “Half a dollar between us. Won’t get us much, but it might be enough until we figure something out once we get into town tomorrow.” Fred explains.
“No way they’ll want to trade anything besides money around here. Not with two towns within 10 miles of each other nearby.” retorts Joe.
“That and all the money that’s passed through this here state. The rich get richer -”
“And we all stay the same” Joe concludes. Fred takes a moment to gather his thoughts as he explains his plan.
“The next house we hit -”
“Who said we’re hitting anything?” Joe interrupts.
“The next house we see, let’s try asking for some food.”
“You mean beg?”
“I mean that country folk around here have always been nice people, maybe we’ll get lucky for once.”
“‘Lot of veterans around here, plenty of men and boys moved hereafter the civil war. They might not be as friendly as you think.” Joe places his hand under his chin, clearly worried.
“How’d you find that out?”
“I met one on the job that got me over the border back in ‘03. I inquired about the state of things.”
“What else that vet have to say?”
“Not much that we don’t already know, from what I recall. That was back before the railroad got put in. Lots of cheap land around the state. But Montana is full of fools like us, thinking we can get a piece of it.”
“It’s either this, or I go back to the dockyards in Montreal. Frankly, I don’t miss scrubbing barnacles off ships.” Fred dejects.
Fred flashed back to miserable day in Montreal. He awoke one morning, on the floor of a boarding house dorm in a room full of other men, half of them drunk. He waited in line to use the boarding house bathroom. Only for other men to bang on the door and rush him out, as soon as he pushed his way into the bathroom. With the same clothes he slept in, he shuffled through the street, towards a smoggy dockyard where he clocks in for work. A medical stretcher with a body covered in a sheet is carried past him, another casualty of the dockyard. Fred scrubbed barnacles off a fishing boat, at the end of the day, only to be yelled at by a dock supervisor. Fred then ended his day, as he did most days, in a pub, drinking whiskey by himself. He noticed a woman who smiled at him from across the pub. But he is exhausted in mind and spirit. So much so, that he cannot bring himself to remove the frown on his face when she smiles at him.
Back on the trail, Joe and Fred came across a one-story wooden farmhouse, located behind a chest-high wooden fence. The fields, to their left, surrounded it. Only one tree presented itself on the property, located the right, rear side of the house. Garden beds puzzled themselves around the left side of the house. Joe and Fred slouched against the wooden fence. Thunder echoed throughout the plains. Rain began to spit into the ground around them.
“There’s our winner, let’s go be these people's entertainment for the day.” says Fred.
Fred collects coins from Joe’s bag. Unknown to Joe, Fred takes a pistol from his own bag and tucks it into the rear of his pants.
“I’ll do the swindling here. Lest your lack of education and young age show itself.” dictates Fred
“Lest your lack of humanity show itself.”
Fred laughed “Did you show Willie your humanity, on that bridge?”
Joe looked down into the dirt and waited for Fred to knock on the door. Fred banged his fist on the door three times, stiffly waiting for a response. After a few moments of Joe and Fred earnestly looking towards each other, the door slowly creaked open. An old man with long,
stringy thin white hair, and a massive white beard consuming the entire lower half of his face, answered the door.
“I don’t take no visitors. There’s been too much trouble around here lately.” the old man informs them.
Fred turns on a slight Quebec accent, thinking that it will dazzle the farmer, as it does for most rural people into listening to him.
“Kind sir, please allow me to introduce myself. I am LeBeau, and this is my associate Hobbins.”
Joe never appreciated Fred using their real names with strangers. Fred always declared that it was a good way to build up trust with unsuspecting people. Joe never believed that there was much trust to be made with people that they might end up robbing anyways.
Fred continues. “We stop by this little paradise of yours, to ask for your assistance. You see, the rain is coming in, and we will have to camp for the night before we make our way further south. Unfortunately for us, we came partly prepared and without any food, as we are rushed to meet our employers in a little village near Kalispell.”
“No visitors, I said.”
Of course, we don’t mean to visit. Please sir, let us appeal to your Christian nature -”
“My Christian nature tells me that I should be prepared for the trips I go on. I suggest you do the same. We got enough people to care for and feed in this county. We’re doing just fine. We don’t need tramps idling about, preying on our fields and cattle.”
Fred takes a moment to maintain his composure.
“You’ve mistaken our intentions, sir. Have a good day” Fred tips his hat to the old man. He walks to the bottom of the porch stairs, when the old man calls out.
“Wait a minute, I’ll get you some water. We got plenty of that.”
Fred turns his head half-around to face the man, without looking directly at him.
“Thank you, sir. Even that may settle our stomachs.”
The man closes the door to his home. Joe and Fred glare at each other.
Joe excitedly remarks, “Let me get this old man. Probably no one’s living with him. We go in, grab their money, any shiny stuff, and then we leave.”
Fred grabs Joe by his jacket, “We don’t know that old man, we don’t know that house. He might have a dozen strong sons on their way home from working a neighbour’s field. We’ll take what he’ll give and go.”
Joe scrunched his face in private and tightened his lips. He paced in the path of the front yard, as Fred leaned against the staircase railing, looking towards the southern horizon covered in dark clouds. The old man opened the door and a shy, young man, only a little older than Joe, walked out onto the porch with two large glass jars of water. He cautiously handed them to Fred from the top of the porch stairs.
“Thank you kindly, sir, and to your boy. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Fred, again, tips his hat. Joe and Fred make it halfway down the path when the old man calls out to them once again.
“You boys ever want work, come back here and I can find you some. Otherwise, don’t present yourself here ever again. And you, boy.” He points to Joe with a crooked finger. “You’re young and strong, don’t let this man lead you wrong. Come back here and I’ll find you a job.”
“’I’m afraid I don’t have any skills to use for this land, sir. I wouldn’t be much use considering the amount of industry coming through the area.” Joe responds in kind.
“No matter. You can work the fields and in return you’ll find someone to teach you. There’s a priest down in Kalispell who teaches the young and old and associates folk to employers. We don’t have much food and goods to share these days, with the number of cowboys, stagecoaches and rail line workers coming through. But we got plenty of learning to share, you just got to work for it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, sir. Thank you. You take care”.
Fred listened indifferently to the conversation. He always viewed Joe as an accomplice, much less then a protégé in his crime and grafting. The men make their way down the trail. The valley begins to dim into darkness.
Fred thinks to himself, “I could have killed that man. I could have made him dead and buried him in his own front yard. If it weren’t for this kid trailing around with me all the time, I’d be sitting cozy on a barstool right now. Drinking and laughing away this hunger. Maybe this is my curse for never having a family of my own. Towing this boy around like some kind of distant guardian.”
Joe and Fred set out a makeshift camp, next to a lake, within the forest. They sat underneath a tree, on a dry patch of land. Bedrolls laid underneath them, as a small fire between them flowed smoke into the air. Fred threw a fishing line, attached to a stick, into the water. No matter how often he tried, he failed to lure any fish onto the hook.
“That old man might have been telling the truth. Maybe they really can’t be handing stuff out to strangers” Joe ponders.
“That’s a bunch of bullshit. Old man time just don’t want to share what’s his. I get it, but that doesn’t make it right.” Fred spits into the grass next to him.
Joe looks over Fred, as Fred stares into the fire.
“You ever killed a man before?” Joe asks.
“That’s none of your business, kid. What difference does it make? I’ll pull the trigger when the time comes.” Fred fires back.
“I’m just wondering’ what it’s like. That’s all.”
“There’s no wondering when you do it. You just do it, then move on.”
“It can’t be that easy.”
“For some men it is, for some it is.”
Fred thinks back to a time in Montreal that changed his life forever. As Fred worked studiously, one sunny afternoon, on an invention in a Montreal park, a lost but friendly dog walked up to him. Behind the dog, followed a woman who smiles at Fred. Fred stood up from the park bench and began a conversation with the woman. Fred thinks back on the time that they went a carnival in a town square. Full of joy and laughter, their love united in the happiness of that day. A few days later, Fred caught his lover across a road, flirting with a well-to-do man who looked as though he were a lawyer or a judge. In the middle of one night, Fred burst through a hotel room door to discover his lover and her affair in bed. Fred lifted a pistol towards the two, appearing completely deranged, the woman screamed out. “Arrête! Ne pas. Non, mais arête” plead the man in bed. A moment of light shocked the room as one gunshot rang out into the hotel hallway. The woman tripped through the doorway of the room and fled the hotel. Fred stared at the bed, completely numb to his own actions.
Fred gazed blankly into the fire. “Once we get to Kalispell, we’ll start making some real money. There’s a man down there who’ll pay a good price for each head of cattle we bring in.” his blank stare turns into a sinister smile. “You still got the strength for wrestling cows?”
Joe flexed his right arm, and slapped it with his left hand. “Wrestling beasts is all I know. You think maybe I could go brush up on my letters and numbers while we’re in Kalispell?”
Fred retorted, “What do you need that for? This world is forming into something else, quicker than I care for. It’s got no tolerance for those down and out like us. Not that it ever did before. All you need to do is work, take what you need, no need for reading’ or writing’ in our business. We’re only going as far as Whitefish before we head south to the Reservation. No time for studying.”
Joe studied Fred further. He knew that going to the reservation means that they would be stealing horses, not cattle. Which was a hangable offense. Fred continued, “Let’s take what’s owed from that old man, tomorrow. The man looks like he’s on his deathbed anyways. He won’t need anything for where he’s going.”
Joe fidgeted with himself, as he thought, pondering the thought of his plan for the crime. “I’ll round up his son, and take their guns. You get all we need from the gardens and inside. Then we’ll be on our way.”
“They might be ready for us. Give me that half-dollar, I’ll offer to buy some vegetables from the garden.”
“What if he gives us grief, again?”
“I’ll pull out this pistol and give him a choice. Either he reaches for heaven with their hands, or I send him to hell. You’ll sneak in and grab the guns anyways. They’ll have nothing to come at us with.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“I’m already getting sick of this place. Tired of being surrounded by mountains everywhere I go.”
Thunderstorms arrived in the distance. Wildlife and travellers alike take shelter from the storm. The following morning, the sun rose to the galloping of wild horses. Joe and Fred stood next to a massive boulder on the side of the trail where the farmhouse could be seen, in secret. Fred checked the ammunition in his pistol.
“If this goes bad,” Fred explained, “you meet me at the rail rider camp down near Fortine.” “Why would it go bad?”
“I've been thinking about what you said yesterday, about those army veterans. That old man has southern roots in his tone. Something tells me he came here to get away from some bad memories.”
“He was a soldier?”
“There were no soldiers in that war. Just folk trying to protect what’s theirs. Now he’s doing the same thing again, here, with us.”
“Should we leave him be?”
“Not a chance. This old man’s getting a lesson in charity today.”
“We’re no teachers.”
“Nope, we’re survivors, just trying to make it to the next town with something in our belly.
Gotta remind people around here that civilization is rolling through. Got to make them know that they’ll need to share and help out their fellow man if they want peace in these Great Plains.”
Fred walked slow down the trail, towards the farmhouse. He wondered to himself. “A man scorned. A tired man. When will my awesome share in peace and harmony come? When will I finally be able to put my feet up, like this old man, and protect what it is I have? Forty years of life and all I have are the clothes on my back, and some useless trinkets buried outside of town. Maybe I’ll have land like this someday. No one’s giving it to me, no one’s going to sell anything worth a dollar to a bum. The only way is to take it, make it mine.”
Joe laid in the grass of a nearby ditch, watching the farmhouse. Fred banged on the door, again three times. He waited longer for the man to answer the door, then he did yesterday. A group of crows loudly lifted into the air, from a nearby patch of trees, catching Fred’s attention, as he peaked towards them from the corner of his eye. The door to the house opened.
“I was praying I wouldn’t see your face again. You back for work? Where’s the boy that was with you?”
“Good morning, sir. I’m back with what little money we have, all we are looking for is something to eat.”
Joe creeped around the tall grass as soon as he heard Fred’s voice in the distance. He utilized the constant change in ground level to hide himself from view. He finally sprinted towards the backdoor. Once he reached the building, he slowly walked along the wall, while peeking through
bedroom windows. The first room was clearly a plain room for an older male teen, or a young man. The second window gave cause for Joe to suddenly stop sneaking to the backdoor.
“I’ll be as bold to ask: why didn’t you offer your pennies to me yesterday?” “As I said, sir. This is all the money we have and I -”
“I’ll take your damn money. But not because I’m in dire need, myself. I’ve been just as hungry to bother unsuspecting persons, though it was a long time ago.”
Fred bites his tongue, and waits for the old man to further his response. Meanwhile, Joe viewed through the second window, from behind the house. He looked upon a dark yellow Confederate cavalry uniform situated on a coat stand. It looked as though a mannequin in the form of a ghost inhabited it. On the sleeve of the jacket was an embedded Confederate insignia for the rank of First Sergeant. A yellow sash gripped around the belt of the jacket. The puffed cheeks of Joe quickly turned to pale white, his eyes opened wide. He realized that he and Fred had not stumbled upon an old, lame farmer. But instead, a warrior who wants to be left alone in peace with his family. Joe braced himself against the wood siding of the house, breathing deeply, weighing up his next decision. “Do I die today? Is this where it ends for me? Alongside a devil from Montreal. How did my feet lead me here? All I want is a little adventure. Stories to tell when I’m old and frail. Is that enough to put my body in the ground so soon, so early in my short life? They won’t kill me today. but Fred will, if I don’t go through with this.”
At the front of the house, the old man stepped down from the porch. “My boy will bring you biscuits. I’ll pick you some onions from the garden. Hand me over that money.” He turned back towards the open front door. “William! Bring out some biscuits for this man, so we can send him on his way”. Fred limply handed over the coins as the old man passed by him. The shy young man brought out a collection of biscuits. Fred took a cloth from his satchel and wrapped the biscuits. He then placed them in his bag, while nodding to the young man. The young man meekly walked back inside the house. The old man struggled with his cane, towards the garden.
“Back during the war, we wouldn’t negotiate with no tramps. We’d hang you up, for the next crowd of lamenters to see. Lucky for you, the war’s long over with.”
Fred looked sternly upon the old man, tightening every muscle in his body. He wondered why Joe hadn’t rounded up the guns and the man’s son, yet. At this moment, Joe, from the rear of the house, kicked open the back door. Young William turned around, already holding a rifle and standing guard for his father since the door was knocked upon. William aimed and pulled the trigger, only for the gun to misfire. Joe, in a panic, sprinted away from the house.
Riley and Yoakum heard the crunch of the backdoor being kicked in. As Riley realized that they are being robbed, William called out, “They’re robbing us, pa! They’re breaking in!”
Riley, in a rage, picked up a garden hoe and stormed towards Fred. “You goddamn thieves! I bled and sweat for all of this, this is for my family. Who are you to try and come take it? Huh?” Riley smacked Fred in the chest with a garden hoe. Who quickly recovers. “Who are you!”
Fred took his pistol from underneath his jacket and fired the gun down into the abdomen of the old man. The old man leaned over for a moment, before supporting himself along the garden fence, where he fell into the garden. His body heavily raised and lowered from the earth, with each deep breath.
The old man spent his final thoughts on his family, and his wife. Whom he makes one final prayer to. “My dear wife, forgive me. I prepared this place for you, I’ve been waiting. I’m sorry you have to come see me in the grave, my darling. You saved it all. Our children are grown, let them be strong. Enough time will pass, we will all be together again. Goodbye my love, my life, my everything.”
Fred walked over to the garden, blankly shooting Riley Yoakum in the head, putting an end to the mans suffering. William Yoakum then ran out the front door, took aim, and fired a pistol at Fred from the porch. The bullet passed through the cloth of Fred’s jacket, underneath the arm he aimed at Riley with. Fred turned and fired his pistol, an exchange of repeating gunfire ensued. Fred struck William in the waist, who collapsed to the floor of the porch, blood splattered on the wall of the house behind him. Fred grabbed the basket of onions from his feet and fled beyond the left side of the house, heading north. William, screaming in pure agony, dragged himself to his father, prostrating before his father’s body, in terror. William then crawled up the stairs of the porch, through the front door of the house, towards the room that contained the army uniform. A wave of realization over the situation washed over him. “No feeling in my legs. No one’s going take care of this farm, for me. Working with my body is all I’ve ever known.” He thinks to himself. William pushed open the door to his father’s room, blood stained the floor behind him. He gazed upon the uniform. “It’s not about what a man wears, it’s about what’s in his heart. That’s what you taught me, Pa. You never wanted me to join the army. I scared them off though, I didn’t let them take what we built.” William crawled underneath a bed, where he laid in a state of chaos and tears. The young man cocked his pistol, aimed it at his own head, and fired. The flash of light embalmed the room, during the last act of Will Yoakum.
Joe sprinted away from the house, heading south. Gasping for air and never looking back, he runs back to the nearby boulder where he regained the little composure he had. After a moment of silence, he began to jog down a path towards Fortine. A little while later, Joe timidly pushed himself down a forest path, and reflected on the terror he was apart of. “How do I shoulder the guilt of three dead men? Where do I go now? No home. No place to call my own. Eternal wanderer, transfiguring my darkened soul from one valley to the next. Maybe it all ends here. From the end of a lawman's barrel, between the gaps in these vast mountains. I’m nothing but a ghost now. I skipped over a bullet in my chest like I was hopping over wet ground in front of me. I’ve slipped through the grip of death. Is this how it feels to be reborn? To live a life granted away from death?”

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"It's the largest fresh body of water this side of the Mississippi," the Blackfoot told me.
It sounds like bullshit to me, but then again, I wasn't exactly in the mental state to be challenging anything about my geographic state. The brimmers had my memory fuzzy. How many had I taken that day? Six? Seven? Drowning in brimmers, I say to the swimmers. Did we really kill the Tin Cup before getting dinner? Mountain whisky is what Prescott called it, but they all taste like fire to me.
"Huh?" I said to the Blackfoot.
"Flathead lake. You said you knocked your head swimming there the other day and have seen a demon following you ever since. It is the largest fresh body of water this side of the Mississippi. Beautiful, inn't it, though. Surprised you went swimming, it's got to be freezing this time of year."
"Hah, yeah... But that's what the liquid fire was for," I said to my new acquaintance. We were standing outside the hotel vestibule bathed in cheap fluorescent. It's late in the night because I don't see any other lights on, just darkness resting upon the earth. I must have asked him for a cigarette, and I must have smoked a million because my mouth feels like a campfire. I can't remember his name (Steve? Stu? Something like that), but I recall him saying he’s a Blackfoot, and, for whatever reason, that's what's sticking with me. He's wearing a tattered denim jacket with heavy metal band pins and patches sewn poorly on. A black bandana covers his neck, but I can still see the tattoos poking up through them. His most prominent feature is a pair of snakebite piercings just below the lower lip; two metal spikes stick out like fangs. I wonder if he gets food stuck in there, I think about asking him but refrain. No need to be rude; he is sharing his smokes with me after all.
"You know you'll never leave here, right?"
"What?"
"You will never leave here. Do you even know where you are?"
"Yes, I… Uh…" The Blackfoot looked at me with cutting eyes, challenging me to remember where I was. I felt like I was choking and my brain had been struck like a bell. Where was I again? Think about it, Jimmy. Think, think. You're on vacation. Okay. You wanted to go to Prague this year, but the damn Covid variant shut down the country and put the kibosh on that, so you and Mikek, and Prescott decided to go out west. Where west? Somewhere you haven't been before. Something about Mikek wanting to see all fifty states before turning thirty. Montana was on that list of states. We are in Kalispell, Montana, to visit Glacier National Park! Okay, it's all coming back. Drowning in brimmers, I say to the swimmers. "I am standing outside the Super 8 in Kalispell, Montana."
"Are you? If you say so. Oddly specific if you ask me." the Blackfoot says.
"What are you getting at? Why do you say I am never going to leave here."
"Because you've been marked, brother. Sta-au, that's the name of the demon that marked you, and there really ain’t no getting unmarked."
"Please tell me what you are talking about," I say to the Blackfoot, feeling like I am talking between breaths.
"Think about the story you just told me. Really think back on it. I know retelling a hellish story feels like hell, but I'll listen to it again. I need you to hear it this time, though. I don't think you paid attention. Too many 'brimmers' swimming in your head."
"I... I don't…."
"You say you know where you are, so tell me how you got here. Start at day one."
And so I concentrated back to two days ago: back to before the ATV and before the bear. My mind isn't ready to relive that yet. It needed to start at the beginning; Flathead lake ("The largest fresh body of water this side of the Mississippi." bullshit.), where my demon caught up with me for the first time.
--
The flight from O'Hare to Kalispell had been north of four hours. A long flight like that can really put a thirst on, so as soon as we got the rental car (white Jeep Wrangler, as stock as they come, but appropriate for the mountains), our first stop had been to a liquor store. Prescott was our whisky man, and he picked out a nice octagonal bottle with the dark brown liquid inside. Every bottle comes with a tin shot glass on the top, so Tin Cup is not just a clever name. "It's mountain whisky," Prescott would say with a forced country accent, "Ain't you ever seen the commercials?"
We were all kind of talking with forced accents upon arrival. Couldn't tell you why other than it was fun to do. It felt appropriate. Prescott, Mikek, and I were all in a good mood. We were finally taking a vacation with the "bros," and while, sure, it wasn't Prague, a trip to see some natural beauty of our country isn't an inadequate substitute.
Once we got to the hotel room, I guess that's where the drinking started. I had bought some beers at the liquor store to babysit while we tried to think of something to do the first day. We landed mid-afternoon, so it was too late to do any hiking and too early to really hit the town (not that Kalispell has much of a town to hit, but you know that already). While sitting at the desk chair I cracked my beer, but before I could take a sip, placed in front of me was a tin shot glass filled to the brim. "Oh, we doin' brimmers?" I ask in my forced accent.
"Oh, we doin' nuttin' but brimmers," Prescott said, and while still trying to figure out how we were going to fill our afternoon, three brimmers a piece had been consumed.
Before eventually settling on a place, I had asked the receptionist where the good spots were. She had rainbow hair and enough spacing between her teeth to floss with yarn. Her tag said her name was "Buteful." But she was sweet and really couldn't recommend Flathead lake enough. She said it was a "precious gem" this time of year and we were lucky to be hitting it before the weather started to drop and the cold came in like a lion. Sure, why not. It was only about a twenty-minute drive, and besides, it's not like we had started to really drink at that point.
The drinking really started in the car. I sat in the front seat, nursing my traveling beer, Mikek was driving (because his name was on the rental), and Prescott was in the rear pourin' brimmers. No, no. Before you go thinking we make a regular thing of this, we never drink and drive at home. Far too much to risk doing that. Plus, there are more than enough Ubers. But out here in Montana? Hell, I figure it's practically encouraged! This state has like, what, 1,000 people living here? So ten, twelve cops, tops? Even Buteful warned me of the decoy Five-O cars they'll put out on the highways. Yes, I am exaggerating a bit on the numbers, but the point is the risks were much lower than home, and it's not like Mikek was drinking (...).
When we got to the lake, it really was beautiful, or, you know, "Buteful." The massive lake is surrounded to the north and east by the snow-capped Rockies. Elephant-sized boulders crested the eastern shore, and the water was so clear you could probably see one hundred feet down. I wasn't planning on swimming, but when you're being called out by your best friends, well, I guess plans change. They stripped down to their underwear and jumped in--took the polar plunge. "My outie is turning into an innie," Mikek said through chattering teeth.
"Don't be such a pussy, dude! Do another brimmer and jump in! It's not that bad," Prescott was taunting me.
"I'm drowning in brimmers, I say to the swimmers!" I don't know. I get rhymey when I'm drunk. But as I said that, my drunk legs tripped on my clothes and I fell off the dock into frigid depths. I did not know that what I would see down there would haunt me the next two days.
I felt a terrible pain in the back of my head. Something hard had made contact with my skull, and even then, I was almost sure I'd have a concussion. When I opened my eyes, though, nothing made sense. I was freely suspended in the crystalline green water. No clear view of the lake floor. Only an endless void. I could not make out the surface either. Up or down made no difference to me. But the worst sensation I had was that I was not alone. Someone (or something) was in the water with me. Watching me. I could only catch glimpses through my periphery as if it didn't want me to get a full view of it. I needed to scream, but if I did, I'd suck in water and inevitably drown.
A slimy sensation struck across the back of my leg. At this point, whatever it was was unsatisfied with watching me and hungred for a taste. I had to get away; I started flailing towards what I thought was the surface: kicking my arms and legs as hard as I could for both propulsion and defense. I wasn't even sure if I was going the right way, but I had to move. I was swimming on nothing but instinct. Something finally did grab me and I exhaled an involuntary scream. But by that point, I was out of the water being dragged to shore by Prescott. He saw me fall in, hit my head on the rocks, and swam to save me.
We don't think I was concussed, but they made sure I didn't pass out for a few hours just the same. I didn't tell them what I saw either. What would have been the point? I wouldn't have believed me if I had heard it. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen (or didn't see), until the next day, that is.
--
"And what did you see the next day?" the Blackfoot asked.
"I... I'm getting there. I am trying to remember, but the spot where my head hit is starting to hurt again."
"Take your time. You must remember in order." He handed me another cigarette, and when I took it, I saw his whole arm was drenched.
"That night. You know, we were still having a good time despite my incident. We had gone to some local brewery, stopped by a liquor store for more Tin Cup because obviously, one night of brimmers wasn't gonna be enough. When we got back, that's actually when I met you for the first time. Right?"
"It is. And what did I say my name was?"
"Stan. Stan the Blackfoot. I remember now because I thought that when I tell people your name back home, they'll never believe I didn't make it up."
"But you won't get to tell people back home my name, will you?" Stan the Blackfoot reiterated.
"You keep saying that," I said with contempt.
"Please keep remembering your story. You're getting to the good parts."
--
At least the next day, we had more of a plan. Glacier National park was our main reason for going, after all. Did we do any research on what hikes to go? No. We didn't even look at the weather for the day. Let's just say T-shirts were not enough, so when we saw that there's a visitor center we obviously were going to have to make a stop.
There's one main road bisecting the park called Going-To-The-Sun Road. You enter on the east side, cut through the Rockies, and pop out on the west. To add that perfect touch of ominous to it, Stanley (Stan the Blackfoot) Kubrick filmed the opening scene to The Shining on that road. The visitor center we wanted was about mid-way Going-To-The-Sun.
So we got our "Glacier National Park" hoodies at the visitor center, and probably looked like the biggest dorks as they were all the same “subtle” shade of bright neon green. But what we most grossly underestimated was not the weather or knowledge of trails; it was the wildlife. Sure we talked about the potential to see moose, wolves, or bears, but it never seemed real to us. It'd be like seeing a monster in the movies; yea, it's there, but it's not gonna hurt me. So, we didn't buy the "highly recommended" $40.00 bear spray.
Some guy in denim even decided to butt in on this point by saying: “Don’t worry, bears mostly attack when they get startled, and with those hoodies you’re wearing, there’s no way one wouldn’t spot you from a mile out.” Prick. Like the guy who goes hiking in designer jeans is an authority on bears. I did happen to overhear him inquiring about trails with the park ranger, so without a better plan in mind, we decided to piggyback.
The park ranger suggested the Avalanche lake trailhead. Three miles uphill through the forest and at the top is a mountain lake fed by snowmelt waterfalls. I had done these kinds of hikes before, so I chalked it up to the hangover when my head began hurting. Naturally, we left the bottle of Tin Cup at home, so no brimmers, but that's what flasks are for. A little 'hair of the dog' got me through the start, but that spot on my head was not ceasing. Call it intuition, or a feeling, or Danny Torrence's "Shine," but I knew we were not alone in the woods. ...And I wasn’t talking about Levi Strauss in front of us either.
By the time we got to the top of the trail, exhaustion masked by adrenaline had hit us. The lake was breathtaking as advertised, and while I knew I wasn’t going to go swimming again, I did take my boots off to stick my feet in the water. It was so cold it hurt but, the thing is, that pain did nothing to subside my head. It was beating like a drum, and I couldn't shake the feeling that what I had seen in the water the day before was somehow here again. Is there a demon that lives in the lakes of this region? I swiveled my head, and I saw some horrible dark entity lurching on the shore. It appeared translucent like it was made of the same water I was suspended in yesterday. Standing eight feet tall, this thing did not move like a human nor fluid but instead took crooked steps forward like a glitching TV.
I turned my head again to call for Mikek and Prescott, but that movement caused another surging migraine through my skull. A dark green flashed before my eyes, and I thought the demon was on me, but it was just a hallucination. It must have been causing me to see things. I didn't spy Mikek or Prescott either. I have no idea where they went, and now I am alone with my demon.
Light may travel faster than sound, but that doesn't mean you won't hear the most horrible noise in your life before seeing what produced it. As I turned to flee from my demon, dashing for the dark maze of trees where there are at least coves to hide in, I heard a growl so piercing that my guts liquified. Was this my demon talking to me? Some ancient dialect so hideous and inhuman? No. What followed the growl was a scream: a very human scream of deep agony. I ran towards the source, thinking it was Mikek or Prescott but what I saw was the jean guy locked in the grizzly bear's jaw, face half removed like a mask, and guts spilling out.
Mikek and Prescott were standing there watching, just as dumbfounded as I was. Who knows how long that bear had been tracking us. Maybe it wasn't even following us; it could be that we stumbled upon it (must be a little under a mile out, huh Levi). That guy must have intercepted the bear on his return. I realized then that we, as humans, I mean, no longer had home-field advantage. We were on its turf; had to play by nature’s rules and nature is fucking metal. While the bear had its maw full we bolted the three miles back to the trailhead, and I had three horrible thoughts. First, if we had bought the bear spray, we might have been able to save that man. The second was that I wasn't so sure we would have. When you’re presented with an opportunity for escape, isn’t it best to take it? This leads me to the third, most shameful, I was grateful; grateful it was him and not me.
--
"You don't have to be faster than the bear," Stan the Blackfoot started.
"Just faster than the guy next to you." I finished with tears in my eyes.
"And what did you do next?"
"We got back to the car and drove to the nearest ranger station. Told them what we could and got out of there. We weren't asked to stick around for questioning, so we just left for..." I'm drowning in brimmers, I say to the swimmers, "...left for the hotel and drank until we couldn't feel feelings anymore."
"You have one more day to get through."
"What did you say the name of my demon was again?" I asked Stan.
"Sta-au."
"And what does he want?"
"He wants to listen to your last day, and he wants to hear it again."
"Okay... I am starting to remember."
--
For most people, seeing a man get eaten alive would be a sobering experience, but the last thing we wanted was to be sober. Sobriety would bring our experience to reality, and I don't think we could handle that. We had bought another bottle of the Tin Cup on our way home, and if I am counting correctly, that makes three bottles in two days. "Stuff it down with some brown" is what Prescott would preach. We all agreed we needed distraction from our distraught discretions, and ATVing seemed like the reasonable choice. At the very least, if we encountered another bear, we'd stand a better chance of outrunning it.
RidgeRunners seemed reputable enough but what's funny is that these people give you zero driving tips. They don't even ask if you've driven an ATV before. "This is the gas, here is the brake," they give you a paper map of the trails and finally say "be back by 1:00 pm. I've got a fishing appointment I can't miss." I am not saying that they are responsible for what happened… oh God, what happened… But I am saying they could take a little more responsibility to suggest to their customers the dangers of cliff driving.
Prescott starts first. He's a bit timid on the main road while surrounded by traffic, but soon after getting on dirt trails, he finds his footing. We are not blasting through the tracks just yet, but we are definitely zipping. It's kind of funny, really. They give us a paper map from 1990 with highlighted trail lines and say, "find your way." The trails are all double track, but we honestly couldn't tell you if they were one way or not. We were sure driving on them like they were. But anyway, he's driving through mostly forested flat land at first, and when he gets to the first mountain ridges, he slows down. We stop to take some pictures, and that's when Mikek takes over on the descent.
Mikek has a feel for the vehicle now. He experienced what a newbie driver can do, but he wanted to put his own limits to the test. We commence back down the hill fast, faster than what ordinary people would be doing but certainly not breaking any records. Plus, he slows on the declined turns. It's only once we reach the flat ground again that he wants to test out our machine's drifting capability. We found a nice flat spot over a bridged river to drift on the gravel and take some videos. Maybe we irked an RV camper or two but fuck em.' They chose the spot next to the ATV trail.
When it was my turn, I didn't care about testing myself or finding the limits of the ATV... I just wanted to drive; I just wanted to not think about that man's face peeled back like a banana. We managed to find a new set of trails that led up to a peak beside Flathead lake. All dirt and rocks. All two tracks. It was simply a lake, cliff, track, and mountain; switchbacks the whole way up. Sure, I still felt the tinge of a headache, but I did my best to drown (drowning in the brimmers) it out with Motley Crue and Lynyrd Skynyrd over the speaker.
Of course, we took more pictures at the top. It was “buteful.” Endless blue sky only interrupted by jagged, knife-edged mountain ridges that bled into the luscious green forest, finalizing in a base layer of crystal clear water; it's the kind of view one has to earn. Coming down, though, as happens with all comedowns, is when I could no longer numb the pain in my head.
Whatever you called it, Sta-au was back. I could feel it. The hammering was familiar at that point, and I knew what to recognize. Bad things happen when I'm in its presence, so, fine, I'll outrun it. I drove down those hills fast. Faster down than I had gone up. It was easier since I didn't have gravity to fight. Prescott and Mikek were scared, I could tell. They were yelling at me to slow down, but they didn't know my demon was stalking us. Every switchback I made, the ATV would fishtail a little more. That was fine. The evils Sta-au brings are worse than what I could do.
I saw shadows behind the trees. Lurching figures which moved like bullish creatures in striking positions. The last turn I made… I… I saw it in the middle of the road. I saw massive fangs ready to consume us, and I lost control… The only memories I have left of Mikek and Prescott are inverted flashes of them bloody-faced and screaming. I couldn't tell you how many times we rolled before hitting the water (I’m drowning…). Mikek and Prescott must have passed out (or been dead) when we began sinking towards the depths. The last thing I remember was the yellow, menacing eyes in the deep green staring at me…
--
"And then what happened?" Stan the Blackfoot asked.
"And then uh… and then… I ended up here?"
"Exactly. And why is that?"
"Because I never left?" I answer. My head is ringing with pain. "I never left there."
"Left where?"
"Flathead lake. I never left Flathead after I hit my head, did I?"
"No, you did not. The memories you have shared with me are of an existence that would have occurred had you left Flathead. The man consumed by a bear and your friends murdered by your recklessness is the consequence of your demons catching up with you. I spared you the actions by drowning you in Flathead, but I will not spare you the memory. That is mine to consume for an eternity." Sta-au proclaimed to me.
"Thank you?" I am not sure whether to be thankful or petrified. My demon is honest with me. It sounds like a blessing, but I feel cursed. The pain in my head is becoming unbearable, and I can't focus on anything else. Where am I again? "Flathead lake?" I ask the Blackfoot, bumming me a cigarette.
"It's the largest fresh body of water this side of the Mississippi," the Blackfoot told me.
It sounds like bullshit to me...

(opinions on the newer stuff aside, the original trilogy is still mostly loved.)
Besides all the production trouble, and terrible first cut, I was just reading about the movie Damnation Alley on wiki (you can watch it on Youtube, with an intro by Joe Bob Briggs) and this is what I found.
Damnation Alley (film) - Wikipedia)
"Budgeted at US $7.2 million, Damnation Alley was helmed by veteran director Jack Smight, who had scored two consecutive box office hits in the previous two years (Airport 1975 and Midway)). Filming began on June 21, 1976, east of the town of Borrego Springs, California, where a missile base set was constructed, as well as locations in Meteor Crater, Arizona, Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada, Salt Lake City, Utah, and the Mojave Desert in California. The lake scenes were filmed at Flathead Lake in Kalispell, Montana. Filming wrapped on August 13, 1976.
Production was rife with problems — the devastated landscapes and giant mutated insects proved to be nearly impossible to create, despite the large budget. For example, a sequence involving giant 8-foot-long (2.4 m) scorpions attacking a motorcycle was first attempted using full-scale scorpion props, but they did not work and the resulting footage was unacceptable. The solution was to use actual scorpions composited onto live action footage using the blue screen process in post-production. Another action sequence with giant cockroaches used a combination of live Madagascar hissing cockroaches and large numbers of rubber bugs which looked unconvincing onscreen, as the strings pulling mats covered in fake insects were plainly visible. To complicate matters, according to director Jack Smight in his memoir, studio chief Alan Ladd, Jr. redirected about a quarter of Damnation Alley's production budget as completion funds for George Lucas' lower-budgeted film, Star Wars).** Smight was not made aware of the budget reduction on Damnation Alley until he neared its completion, which further compromised most of the remaining special effects work, for which there was now very little money left."
Damnation Alley was the movie they were initially banking on, just imagine if they hadnt relocated the funds to ANH, who knows what it would have looked like in the end. It might just be a campy sci fi movie from the 70s and only ANH!
Final budget for ANH was 11 million, and for Damnation Alley, and absolutely terrible film, was 8 million. Just looking at the sets, costumes, story, acting, ANH feels like is should have another zero on the end of its budget, and Damnation Alley feels like a Ray Bradbury Theatre episode.
​
Its a scary thought!

New to reddit, but listen to stories from here all the time so I figured I might as well give my contribution.
I am a 17 year old male living a relatively quiet life in rural northern Montana, I don't party a lot or do stupid stuff, but I do love driving in the mountains. Little did I know this could've costed me my life.
Its August of this year(2020 obviously) and I was enjoying some free time on my day off of work, and I decided to go take a drive in the mountains north of Kalispell. I drive a red shitbox Nissan Frontier straight out of the 90s with a super tempermental transmission for context.
The drive there was really uneventful, typical asshole drivers, big deisels, northern highway drearyness. It was a foggy cold rainy day so I figured nobody would be in the mountains at this time and I would be all alone up there. When I pulled off the main road and up the mountainous dirt road I felt normal, like nothing was wrong other than my damned transmission.
I am driving up the road for about two hours until I hit a peak and get out to take some pictures, something I usually do for memories. And nothing was really out of the ordinary and it was silent other than the wind whistling through the trees and the rain. I was truly alone.
Until I got the feeling.
Y'know, that feeling you get in your core when someone/something is looking at you ? I was just standing there motionless listening to any noises that might alert me to someone's presence, but there was absolute stillness. I start slowly walking back to my truck when I hear a loud boom and a sound like you hear in those old western movies.
My fight or flight was instantly in 6th gear and I sprinted back to my truck, started it, and by the grace of god or some higher being, was able to get it into first quickly and sped off. I found a spot big enough and turned the truck around and hauled as much ass as this little 4 banger could do back down the mountain road and onto the highway. I drove completely flat out down the highway to the nearest gas station where I stopped. I was shitting bricks at this point because It wasn't hunting season, I didn't see or hear anyone else, and there was no way I could be mistaken for an animal.
I get out to see if the truck was damaged at all and lo and behold! There was a massive bullet hole, I'm gonna guess 7mm round sized hole, in the side of my truck. It went in by the rear fender and came out through the tailgate. I immediately called the county sheriff but since there was no bullet or evidence that they had done it, there wasn't much they could do. Nothing else has really happened since then and I haven't gone back to that area.
Not as exiting as the others but to whoever shot at me alone in the middle of the northern Montana wilderness, you are a bad shot, and lets never meet.

Hello all, I'm 95% likely to move my family from Oregon this summer to Kalispell, taking a job there. My wife and I have 5 kids, ages 16-2. We love the outdoors and modest living. I do have some initial questions I'd love to throw out there to help us learn more about the community:

1. We will be looking to rent a house for at least the first year on a budget as we prepare to buy. I can see housing is a challenge. What areas or neighborhoods should I avoid, and on the contrary seek out. Again, we have a budget, so 2.5k a month on the lake is out of the question.
   
2. My two oldest children are adopted, one is of Hispanic ethnicity, while my oldest is African American. This is my biggerst concern, how well will they be accepted? They are great kids, friendly, adaptable, do great in school. I know youth can be cruel anywhere, but I'd love to know the general attitude in the area.
   
3. We are church goers, and will be seeking a "larger" church that is good for a family. Recomendations?
   
4. Beyond outdoor activities like camping and hiking which we enjoy, what other entertainment options are there for a family? Movies, sports, game stores, etc?
   
5. We are coming from an Oregon climate, little snow, lots of rain. What practical steps should we prepare before winter besides the obvious? What outdoor activities do families with younger children do in the winter months?
   

Thanks in advance for the feedback!

My dad, who is a wealthy business man at the top of a large corporation, bought a large plot of land just outside of a vast forest in northwestern Montana back when I was around 10 years old. With our new home being in the middle of nowhere, I ended up going to a very small school in a town with a population of less than 300. At first, I didn’t think I would acclimate to this small, rural community but over time it grew on me. Now, I’m nearly finished with my senior year in high school, and I’ve got some stories to tell about the strange things that have happened on our property, which is why I’d assume most of you are here.
For those of you who don’t know, if you own a sizeable amount of land in Montana, you all kinds of people asking you if they can use it to hunt deer, elk, or any of the like. Most of the time, my father would be away on business, so it would be my mom who would answer the door. She was home most of the time as an accountant who worked for a firm about an hour away but were flexible to allow her to work from home. My mom was always more than happy to let the eager hunters on our land as long as we were given a small portion of the meat from whatever animals they bagged, to which a fair number of them were willing to oblige.
The first odd occurrence came during the deer hunting season when I was 12. It was especially gloomy and cold outside. The high winds caused the trees to sway back and forth in an almost rhythmic pattern.
“I’ll get it!” I eagerly shouted to my mother hard at work in her office.
“Okay, dear. You remember the rules, right?” she asked loudly.
“Yeah, I got, mom!” I yelled back as I opened the door. I was taken aback when I wasn’t greeted with the usual average built men dressed in orange hunters’ vests. Instead, a six-and-a-half-foot giant stood in the doorway. He was clad in a strange uniform akin to that of a medieval Archer and even had the quiver of arrows and bow on his back to boot. Other than his large, scraggly beard, his face was concealed by a large, black hood.
“Um… Can I help you, sir?” I asked nervously.
“I need to talk to your mom, kid,” he answered in a deep, booming, yet slightly calming voice.
I ran back to my mom’s office and told her about the strange man who asked for her. She immediately dropped what she was doing and briskly walked towards our front door. Evidently, she knew who this guy was and demanded that I go to my room until he left. Of course, I didn’t obey her wishes, as I was a curious little 12 year old at the time, so I did what came naturally to me and eavesdropped on the conversation.
“It’s already that time of year again isn’t it?” Mom inquired of the behemoth of an Archer.
“Yeah, and it looks like there’s even more of them this time. I’ll need about a week or so to clear the area, so don’t let anyone else out there funtil the hob is done.. I’m surprised they haven’t been followed here by some of the more unsavory creatures from up north. I’ll be back when I’m done,” the Archer replied as if it was routine.
“Good luck. You’re always welcome in our home if you need anything,” Mom told him.
“Thanks, Deborah,” he said, closing the door behind him as he set off towards the forest. I don’t know how I’d never seen this man before. Maybe he’d usually have come by on a weekday when I was at school. I wondered what he could’ve meant by creatures. The most dangerous animals we had where we lived were bears and wolves. Some nights I could hear the wolves howling and barking in the distance as they traversed through the forest. However, that night after I first saw the Archer, I would hear screeches and screams of something else for the entire week he was in the forest. It sounded like an extremely pitched up roar of a waterfall mixed with the squelching of metal. Those sounds made me so terrified to sleep, that I could only sleep during the day, leading to me being sent to the principal’s office multiple times. As terrified as I was of the unholy din that erupted from the forest every night, I just as desperately wanted to know what they were coming from. My 12-year-old mind worked in a way where certain sounds would become less frightening if I had a physical form to associate them with. The night after the Archer came back to talk to my mom was the night the horrifying cacophony of wails finally ceased. Apparently he had done his job, and I could finally rest in peace. Perhaps the reason I never heard the hellish shrieks before was because I had slept in the basement, which, for what I suspected to be because of the ungodly howls, was completely soundproofed by the previous owner of the property.
Later that day, I walked down to our neighbor, Mr. Martz’s house to talk to him about the strange noises in the woods. He was slightly balding and had a beer belly from drinking, but his heart was always in the right place. You could always feel warmth when those chocolate-brown eyes looked at you. Since my dad was almost never at home, Mr. Martz served as a father figure to me. He was a man in his early 40’s who’d been living alone since his wife died in a car crash back in 2009. He always had a rational explanation for things.
“Hey, Mr. Martz!” I called out joyfully.
“How are you today, Tom?” he asked, reciprocating my jovial mood.
“I’ve got a question for you. It’s about the noises in the woods.”
He looked taken aback by this. “Noises in the woods?”
“Like those weird screaming sounds.”
“Oh, I’ve heard those before. It’s around this time every year, they come by, but I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s probably just some weird ass bird. I bet it’s those damn cat birds. God, I hate those things!”
“I haven’t been able to sleep though, Mr. Martz.”
“Then what I’d do, is I’d go to the quietest room in the house, put some headphones in, and fall asleep to some calming music.”
“Thanks, Mr. Martz,” I said running back home.
Every year that the Archer came back afterwards, I would ask my mom if I could sleep in the basement for the week he would be in the surrounding woods. I always followed Mr. Martz advice about the headphones and music to a tee, and I can say it definitely helped. Reluctantly, she would allow me to sleep down there, but that changed when I turned 18 this year. A few weeks before the Archer was due to return to carry out what I dubbed to be his extermination, my mom confronted me about the issue. At this, I confessed to hearing the screams of the forest. I thought for sure that she wouldn’t believe me but she merely nodded her head as if she too could hear these horrible things.
“You can hear them, too?” I asked her, completely dumbfounded.
“I’ve heard them every year since we got the place. That Archer’s been coming here to get rid of them for decades now. I still don’t know exactly what they are, but as long as he comes, we’ll be safe. Now, I have to go Kalispell for a conference when he’s supposed to show up. Will you be okay, here by yourself?” she asked concernedly, wearing a compassionate expression only a mom can have.
“Could I stay at a friend’s house or something?” I questioned, hoping she would agree, but the look in her eyes told me otherwise.
“Someone needs to be here to tell him he’s allowed on the land or he can’t do his job. Please do this for me, I’m really counting on you, Tom,” she begged as she put her hand on my shoulder.
“Okay… Can I have a friend stay over so I’m not alone with whatever those things are?” I inquired, this time to better effect.
“You can, but don’t you two skip school,” she jokingly scolded, while giving me a pat on the back.
The next few weeks flew by until it was time for my mom to head off to Kalispell. As she pulled out of the driveway, I waved goodbye and then waited until she was out of view. There was only one person I’d want to have stay over for a week, and that was my girlfriend. We hadn’t been able to have any alone time together for quite a while, and coupled with the fact that she lived only a few miles down the road from us made it even sweeter. We’d been over to each other’s houses before and both knew the other’s parents, but that’s really how it works in these rural Montana communities. Everyone knows everyone.
I sprinted up to my room and quickly pressed the speed dial for her that I had in my contacts. I knew I’d have to catch her at a good time though, since she was usually working on her parents ranch during the weekend. After close to a minute, I thought it would ring through and I would have to leave her a voice mail, but she picked up.
“Hey, Tom. What’s up?” her soothing, soft as silk voice answered.
“Hey, Emily, I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night for a few days. Sorry if this is outta the blue. My mom said I could have a friend over so I figured who better to call than my best friend,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“I’ll see if it’s okay with my parents. They like you a lot, so I bet they’ll let me do it. Just between you and me, I’d love to get off the ranch for a little bit,” she told me with a giggle. I could picture her smirking as she said it too. Abruptly, the phone cut out, which I chalked up to the spotty service where I live, but the knock at the door coincidentally came immediately after. I walked to the door, knowing who was behind it. Opening the door, I was once again greeted by the massive Archer, only this time, he appeared to have brought a friend with him. This man was of the same overly muscular build and stood nearly a head taller than the Archer. We’ll call him the Berserker for simplicity’s sake. The Berserker had a large crossbow slung across his back and was wielding a large battle hammer reminiscent of those used by the vikings long ago that he himself greatly resembled. Just like the Archer, his wore a medieval uniform with a black hood concealing his face.
“Your mom told me that you’d be having a friend over here while she was gone to keep you company. Make sure they’re here by sundown. If the things in those woods smell people moving out and about, they’ll come after you. I’d recommend to be inside about a half hour before sunset just to be safe. Some of those bastards like to get moving early to get the jump on us. We’ll be here for a week, like usual, stay safe, kid,” the Archer told me, as he gave me a soft pat on the shoulder.
“What is it you’re hunting?” I blurted out before I knew what I was asking.
“For your sake, let’s hope you never have to find out,” the Berserker’s ice cold voice answered.
“We’ll be off. Take care, kid,” the Archer said as the pair made their way into what I can only assume would be a week of hell.
After they left, my phone began to blow up with notifications. There were six in total, and each one said: Missed call from Emily. I waited for a few seconds, and, as expected, my phone began to buzz.
“Hello?” I asked softly, wincing as I knew I was about to get an ear-full from my girlfriend.
“Did your phone cut out again?” she asked calmly.
I let out a sigh of relief a this. “Yeah. I saw you tried to call back about six times, but—” I stopped myself. I didn’t know if I should tell her about the two so-called hunters that were on the property. Something didn’t feel right about them even though I knew their hearts were in the right place. There was a sense of overwhelming power that I got just from looking at the two.
“What is it, Tom?” Emily asked in a slightly concerned tone.
“I just had to use the bathroom, that’s all,” I said, playing it off.
“Sure… Well, my parents said I can come over, so I’ll see you in a few. Bye.”
Now I could focus on what I had been thinking about before. The phone cut out immediately before the two hunters showed up and wouldn’t work until well after they were gone from the front door. Maybe it was just a coincidence and I was reading too deep into the concurrence of events that could’ve happened to anyone.
My thoughts were once again interrupted when I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Looking through the window, I saw Emily’s bright-red Honda Civic in the driveway. Her long, curly, blonde hair bounced as she strode up to the door. The look in her deep, steely-blue eyes was of slight concern, but it was almost completely overshadowed by the happiness in them. The doorbell rang, which made my body give a little jolt even though I knew exactly who was waiting on the other side. I barely opened the door before Emily pushed herself through and caught me in a warm embrace. I gave her a kiss on the cheek in return.
“Are you okay, Tom? You sounded a little freaked out over the phone,” Emily said, taking me by the hand to sit next to her on the plush sofa in the living room. She held my hand in hers as she looked directly into my ocean-blue eyes and waited for me to explain.
I let out a sigh, which Emily always knew would mean it would take a while to explain something. “Alright, I’m sure you knew I wasn’t actually going to the bathroom. This was something I’d feel better about telling you in person. When the phone cut out, these two guys were right at the door, and the phone wouldn’t work while they were here. They said they’re here hunting something that lives in the woods,” I told her, knowing I probably sounded like I was high on some drug. To my surprise, she played along, even if it was facetiously.
“They’re probably just after a bear or something,” she said with that sarcastic smirk I’ve come to love over the years.
“Then they’re definitely not after any bear I’ve ever heard of. People don’t typically go bow hunting for bears, and they definitely don’t bring a friend who’s got a viking hammer and a crossbow.”
“They really have all that?”
I paused before answering her question. The sun was almost down. While locking the door I replied, “Yeah, and they look like freaking vikings, too.”
Emily looked fully concerned now but knew exactly what to say to ease my anxiety. “How about we watch a movie? You could use something to get your mind off of all this.”
“I’m down.”
I flipped on the TV and went straight to the movie channels. There were some good titles on, but none that caught my eye until I saw that The Choice was about to start. It may not be very well received by the critics, but that movie has always had some resonance with me.
“I’m guessing you want to watch The Choice?” Emily joked as I had already turned the channel.
“Oh, sorry, is that okay with you?” I asked with a toothy grin.
“You know I love that movie.”
After about an hour into the movie I began to hear the faint screeching from the forest. I turned up the volume slightly and was at peace when the unholy utterances were blurred by the TV. As the movie finished, Emily and I were cuddling under a blanket. Her eyes were closed and her head was laying on my chest. It made tears of joy well up in my eyes to see us so happy together. Seeing Emily so at peace made me realize that I would give anything for her.
Suddenly, the power completely went out. The shrieks of the forest were now filling my ears. There had to be hundreds of the creatures outside. Emily snapped awake, presumably to see the terrified look in my eyes. I was almost in tears from the primal sense of fear building up in me.
“What is that?” a wide-eyed Emily asked frightfully.
“I don’t know, and those guys told me we don’t want to,” I answered in a whisper.
Then we heard something that made us panic more than any of the wails outside, my mom’s voice. Something about it was off. It sounded almost artificial and ghostly.
“Tom, would you let me in, dear? I brought dinner with me,” the voice spoke. “Tom, help me please, I’ve got some extra groceries in the car. Tom, won’t you let your mother in? Tom! Let me in! LET ME IN TOM!” more voices continued to join in as the creatures became increasingly angry. We saw one of them staring at us through the window with its evil, flaming-red eyes standing about 100 feet away. Its appearance was humanoid, but it was all wrong. Pasty, gray skin was pulled so taught across its body that it looked like its bones would pierce its skin if it so much as moved. Its four limbs were all coming off of its body at impossible angles and had giant, foot-long claws at the end of each slimy hand. The large crest on its forehead made it seem like its small neck should have been breaking under the weight. Jet-black, needle-like teeth lined the beast’s mouth, and its long tail was lined with three spikes on each side like the ones you’d see on a stegosaurus fossil. Long, black spines jutting out from its black completed the ensemble of horror.
I saw dust and dirt rise up from the road as our neighbor, Mr. Martz, was coming to see what all the commotion was about. His blue Ford-150 tore down the gravel road at high speed. I was praying to God that he would turn around and go home. He must have seen the creatures surrounding the house because the next thing he did was take a u-turn in our yard and tear back down the road. Some of the monsters didn’t take to kindly to their meal on wheels escaping so easily. One of them jumped out from a ditch on the side of the road and flipped Mr. Martz’s pickup, rolling it into the ditch on the other side. Luckily, the vehicle landed with its wheels on the ground so he could try to escape again, but the demons beat him to the punch this time. We watched as one tore apart the front of the pickup and pulled our neighbor out by his throat. The creature batted him back towards the yard, likely cracking his sternum and breaking a few ribs. Horrified, we saw one of their backs begin to vibrate and slice into Mr. Martz’s body, cutting him into bite-sized pieces for itself. I wanted to close my eyes, but I remain alert so we wouldn’t fall victim to the same grizzly fate. I’ll never be able to put into words the emotions I felt as I watched the man who was essentially a surrogate father to me meet an end like that.
One of the creatures eventually made a lunge for the glass and I clutched Emily to my chest as we prepared for the worst, but the demon never made it a step further. An arrow pierced its back, causing black blood to ooze out of its body and before it could see its assailant, a massive war hammer caved its skull in as we heard the sickening crunch of snapping bones.
“Nice that they’re all in one place this time,” I heard the Berserker’s muffled voice say from outside.
“Hey, kid! If you’re in there, go down to the basement and lock the door! Don’t let anyone in for any reason, no matter whose voice you hear, got it? If we make it through the night, meet us outside at noon!” the Archer bellowed loud enough I could’ve sworn he was in my own head.
I felt Emily’s warm tears hit my chest as I sprinted down the stairs, making sure to lock the door behind us. I took her into our spare bedroom and held her in my arms as I could feel my own tears flowing to my cheeks.
“We’re going to make it out alive. Everything’s gonna be okay,” I repeated a few times to Emily as I stroked her hair.
She looked up into my eyes while we still embraced each other and asked, “Do you think they can really save us?”
“Yes, absolutely,” I said half-truthfully. I knew that at least the Archer had come here for a long time and this was routine for him, but some doubt gnawed at the back of my mind. I couldn’t let Emily know that. I continued to stroke the hair and face to calm her. Then, we shared our first real kiss through tears and all.
We waited for a while, hoping it would finally end, but the shrieks intensified. Another voice sounded from upstairs, right at the top of the stairs. One of the demons had made it to the door.
“Emily! Help me! What are these things?! Please! Let me downstairs! Tom! Emily! Don’t let these things kill me! God, help me!” the voice of Emily’s dad screamed through the cacophony of wails, shattering glass, and snapping bones. This voice didn’t sound artificial like the imitation of my mom’s. It sounded real, it sounded human, like there was genuinely a man at the door begging for his life.
“Dad?! Tom, we have to help him!” Emily exclaimed vehemently.
I said nothing and held her tight in my embrace. I wouldn’t let her go and get herself killed. Every day, I promised myself that I’d never let anything happen to her. Everyone is put somewhere at some time for a reason, and, in that moment, mine was to protect Emily. A screech came from directly above us as I heard a crossbow bolt smash through something solid.
“Dammit! That was close!” the Berserker’s tiring and exasperated voice thundered.
The next thing I remember is Emily nudging me awake. I opened my eyes to see her giving me a slight smile as she ran her fingers through my hair. I jolted up, nearly knocking her on her back, but then I realized I couldn’t hear any noise coming from upstairs. I checked the clock on the wall, which read 11:43 A.M.
“Sorry about that, babe,” I said to Emily, extending my hand to get her off the ground. She proceeded to pull me down to the floor so I fell next to her. I let out a hearty laugh at her little stunt as I pulled myself and her up off the floor. We cautiously made our way out into the main room. Somehow, the basement had remained completely untouched, which turned out to be the polar opposite upon opening the door to the main floor. Everything was destroyed; nearly every window was shattered out, and the furniture was damaged beyond even the thought of repair. The power had come back on at some point during the night, only to be put out again when the knock came at the door.
Cautiously, I reached for the handle, but quickly realized that if it were any of the creatures from the previous night, that they would’ve already come in through the broken windows. On the other side of the door, were the pair of men who had saved our lives the previous night. They had many battle scars and their clothes were in tatters.
“I’ve got a couple questions for you,” I told the two immediately after verifying it was really them.
“As you should,” the Berserker replied with a nod. “Do you mind if we come in?”
“Not at all,” I said cordially.
“Where do you want us to start?” the Archer asked us.
I had a question ready, but Emily beat me to it, “Who are you guys?”
“I’m glad you asked,” the Archer began as he and the Berserker pulled their hoods back. Emily gasped and my eyes widened as I saw a pair of ram horns atop each of their heads, and they each had violet irises in their eyes. “As you can guess, we’re not human. We’re demons, and we’re a part of a group called the Huntsmen of Hell. Our job is to go out and kill any lesser, mindless demons that escape to the living world, so we don’t actually spend any time in Hell. My name’s Barbatos (BAR-BUH-TOS, how he pronounced it), and this is my friend Gusion (GOO-SHEE-YON).”
“What were those things?” I questioned further.
It was Gusion who answered this time, “You guys might’ve heard of some of our refugees before. They like to come up with their own names like Wendigo or Skinwalker. These guys call themselves Razorbacks. Compared to those guys, what you saw last night might as well have been Lucifer himself.”
After a while longer of small talk, the Huntsmen left. We were safe for another year. Emily and I spent the rest of the week together, having grown much closer thanks to the events of that night.
After a couple hours, my phone rang. I saw it was Emily, so I made the assumption that she was calling to tell me how it was going after being back on the ranch for a couple hours, but what she told me made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Hey, how you doing, babe?” I answered the phone happily.
“Tom! I need you to come over quick! I haven’t seen either of my parents since I’ve been back!” Emily exclaimed hysterically.
“I’ll be right over!” I said, quickly hanging up.
I got into my Lincoln and sped down the road as fast as the car would go. When I finally arrived at Emily’s house, I made to get out and go to her, but she sprinted to the car and jumped in the passenger’s seat. We searched our entire small town for any sign of human life, but there was nothing. Nothing seemed out of place either, it was as if some omnipotent being swept through the town and took everyone, leaving no trace except for the disappearance of the people. After no luck of finding anyone else in the town, we stopped back by both our houses and grabbed some essentials. We’re leaving northwestern Montana for good and heading down to Billings to stay with my grandparents. We’ll be staying the night in Great Falls and should be in Billings by morning. I’ve tried calling and texting my mom to see if she’s alright, but I get nothing in response.
My mind has had these questions rolling around inside it. Is everyone really gone? Why had only Emily and I been spared? Were we the only ones that Barbatos and Gusion had managed to save?

I found 33 Hitlers in Politics today.

Fact Check: Joe Biden Has Advocated Cutting Social Security for 40 Years

• "After all, he is not Bernie so he must be worse than Hitler." - Sleutelbos
  
• "Cutting welfare programs doesn't make you Hitler, it makes you Trump." - pozitivsunshine
  
• "Not to sound cliche here, but even Hitler, Stalin, and Mao I'm sure all believed that in at least some level, killing millions was justified in a selfless light." - SouthernShao
  
• "If Hitler had conquered Europe, the American continent was next." - rainman904
  

Trump reportedly picked his impeachment defense team based on how well he thinks they can perform on TV

• "That would be hilarious if we could get in that channel and make him grow a hitler mustache." - graneful

Trump's newest Russia adviser 'escorted from White House' amid security investigation

• "Hi there, I'm a former republican and poster of Obama is Hitler memes." - JewFaceMcGoo

Op-Ed: If Trump loves America, why does he call our cities ‘disgusting’ and ‘embarrassing’?

• "Think about how Hitler's fascist state worked - the story that Germany was being abused by certain ethnic groups, and the world." - SweetLittleBirdy

Giuliani: 'I'd love to be a witness' at Senate impeachment trial

• "Hitler has been called a far left socialist on more than one occasion." - Aazadan

'Worried About Angering Trump,' CIA and NSA Withhold Ukraine Documents From Congress, Says Intelligence Chair

• "We really are becoming 1930s Germany and Trump really is turning into Hitler." - Enjolras55
  
• "So far he's hitting off all the check marks of how the Nazi Germany was formed and Hitler rose to power." - fenris_wolf_22
  
• "If you defied Hitler, they'd kill you and maybe your family." - Ice_Burn
  
• "Hitler, while evil, was much more brilliant than Trump." - itsmontoya
  
• "Hitler didn't start out offing his adversaries, that was." - query_squidier
  
• "Why didn't anyone just off Hitler." - TouchMyBusBecky
  
• "This is literally how Hitler took over his party, by having his brown shirt loyalists intimidate and assault political rivals." - Nakoichi
  

Parnas exchanged texts with FL Gov. DeSantis WSJ report alleges

• "Next we're going to find out he and Hitler were text buddies." - CasualPrevaricator

Mitch McConnell may win the impeachment and lose the Senate

• "This situation is more if FDR was openly praising Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini and Franco, calling various institutions illegitimate and attacking them quite openly, and publicly & privately calling for foreign assistance." - musashisamurai

A 2020 Reminder: 55% of US Women Between 18 and 54 Would Rather Live Under Socialism Than Capitalism

• "Nah this is how conservatism has always been, and besides, Trump is a lot more like two-bit Third World dictators (think Trujillo, Varela, or Mugabe) than the likes of Hitler or Stalin." - TheNextBattalion

“Why are they doing this to me?” Trump asks friends at Mar-a-Lago, while legal team officially denies impeachment charges

• "Dumb as Hitler." - logixlegit
  
• "That’s not fair to Hitler." - loki_hellsson
  

Schiff says NSA, CIA withholding Ukraine info due to White House pressure

• "Our Grandparents and Great Grandparents volunteered in the war effort to silence Japan, Hitler, and Mussolini, and they cheered, cried, and celebrated in victory, as Necks were stretched, traitors shot, and blood literally ran in the streets of Europe, the waters of the Pacific, and sands of North Africa." - lbstinkums

Memo to Trump: 'You'll never measure up to Obama'

• "It's like a shocking revelation being sent to Hitler that he would never live up to the dali lama." - conim
  
• "Like saying someone will never measure up to Stalin or Hitler." - DaddyLongBallz
  

Durbin says he hopes enough GOP senators know that 'history will find you'

• "Had Hitler and the Axis powers won WWII, he would be esteemed as an incredible leader who helped remove the Jewish plague from our world." - WigginIII

The Battle to Impeach Trump Is Part of a Global Struggle for Democracy

• "Doesn't change that a Bush was racing Hitler over who could establish a fascist state first." - BlueLanternSupes
  
• "Prescott and his buddies put Hitler into power, look into The Hitler Project." - KneeGrowsToes
  

One of Trump’s Lawyers Called the Other Dangerous

• "Hitler's primary rules were: never allow the public to cool off; never admit a fault or wrong; never concede that there may be some good in your enemy; never leave room for alternatives; never accept blame; concentrate on one enemy at a time and blame him for everything that goes wrong; people will believe a big lie sooner than a little one; and if you repeat it frequently enough people will sooner or later believe it." - AlternativeSuccotash

“People Do Things. Things Happen,” GOP Senator Says of Trump Soliciting Foreign Election Interference

• "Take Hitler, for example." - fucktrutin

'Get Your Mops & Buckets Ready!' — Trump's Infuriating Answer To Rising Seas

• "Trump is perfectly on par with Hitler's playbook as well as every genocidal regime under an authoritarian which led to mass participation in genocide." - nandacast

Missouri lawmaker proposes bill criminalizing public libraries' drag queen story hours.

• "When I used to live in Kalispell Montana a Neo Nazi group showed pro nazi/hitler movies at the public library weekly." - Kgwalter

When Democrats are the bogeymen: A possible Trump loss has these voters very worried

• "Guess that means Hitler had the right idea, because we fought a war to oppose his agenda." - Lyftaker

Oklahoma Senators propose new 'MAGA' specialty license plates

• "This is literally how a hitler gets a foothold - ignorance, fear and an authoritarian to make it all right." - mobydog

Farmers still love Trump as president hits highest approval rate ever in ag poll

• "And some Jews still liked Hitler." - Blowmedown55

Sieg Heil! I mean... Beep Boop, I am a robot.
My purpose is to find and link comments in Politics that contain the word 'Hitler'
Since my birth, I have found a total of 54239 Hitlers in Politics. On average, I found 76 Hitlers per day.
Today, I read 28332 comments. In total, I have read 31042201 comments.

Family Roadtrip Report LA>MT>LA
Submitted August 14, 2019 at 05:48PM by hintofmint https://ift.tt/2Z83sv0
via /teslamotors ---- Content:
Greeting fellow Tesla enthusiasts! I goofed and didn't include the text on my first attempt to post this. This is take 2.We got back this week from a pretty epic road trip and wanted to share our experience with all of you. I’ve seen a fair amount of camping and road trip posts but not too many that include a family of 4. My hope is for those with kids that have thought about road tripping in a Tesla, you will be inspired by my experience to do the same.Backstory:Every summer we travel from L.A. to Flathead Lake, Montana to spend a couple weeks with my wife’s family. In the past we’ve always flown, but growing up, my wife would always drive with her family from Texas to Montana (basically her whole life) and those road trips really helped to bring her family close together. We want to give our kids a similar life experience and the Tesla felt poised to provide a unique and interesting twist on the family road trip.We are avid campers and love getting out into nature so we built in some stops along the way to camp out. Since our kids are 6 and 3 we figured breaking up the road trip with some over night stops would make it easier on them. More on that later…Stats & Logistics:Trim: Model 3 LR Aeros 42 psiSupercharger Stops: (22 scheduled 24 actual)Energy costs $210 3,116 scheduled miles (not including a few wrong turns)8 StatesTop speed 129mph ;)ICE-ed supercharger stalls (0)Stations with supercharger issues (4)Fav. supercharger location: Big Sur (amazing view of the coast on the Ventana grounds)Least fav. The Dalles (only location where we had to wait but only waited for about 10 min.)Inventory list:It was shocking how much we were able to fit inside the car and still be comfortable! I have included a picture of everything we packed inside the car. Between the frunk / trunk and additional storage inside the trunk we were able to utilize almost every cubic inch of available space.Me (1)Wife (1)Kids (2)car seats (2)45L Yeti ice chestREI kingdom 6 tent & footprintREI queen Kingdom sleep systemKids sleeping bags (2)Therma-rests (2)Pendleton blankets (2)Camping blankets (2)Pillows (4)Towels (4)Coleman 2 burner stovePropane tanks (3)Camping chairs (4)Hammock LanternBackpack filled with misc camping gear2nd Packed filled with kitchen gearBag filled with TP, paper towels, trash bags...10L water bladder Water bottles (5)Yeti coffee travel mug (2)Food bags (2)Coffee canisterFrench pressBourbon bottles (2)First aid kits (2)Toiletries dob kit (2)Sunscreen kitLaptopFire tablets (2)UkuleleLarge basket of toys & activities for kidsPacking cubes filled with clothes for about 5 days before washing (10)100L duffle (not filled)Extra shoes (4 pairs)Small Personal backpacks (3)Tesla charging cable kitThe Route:Los Angeles,CA > Buelton,CA > San Luis Obisbo,CA > Big Sur,CA > San Carlos,CA > Ukiah,CA > Eureka,CA > Del Norte SP > Crescent City,CA > Grant Pass,CA > Springfield,OR > Tigard,OR > Portland,OR > The Dalles,OR > Kennewick,WA > Coeur d’Alene,ID > Superior,MT > Flathead Lake,MT > Missoula,MT > Butte,MT > Lima,MT > Pocatello,ID > Temonton,UT > Nephi, UT, Beaver, UT > Zion National Park,UT > St. George, UT > Las Vegas,NV > Yermo,CA > HomeThe plan was to camp 2 nights in Big Sur then visit & stay the night with friends and family in the Bay Area. From there camp one night in Del Norte Redwoods SP and stay a night in Portland before finishing up in Montana. On the way back home we took the faster route through Utah. We wanted to camp for a night in Zion but we weren’t able to get a campsite. We ended up driving to Nephi, UT staying in a budget motel and then visiting family in Vegas and staying the night there. I think we could have powered through all the way home but not sure if the kids would have been able to handle it emotionally.We used abetterrouteplanner.com to build our trip. I found it invaluable as a tool to figure out how to break up our stops and being able to run it inside Tesla’s web browser with realtime data is amazing. I love to drive our car fast and loose, we also had a lot of weight and whenever the battery got to around 20-30% we started to suffer range anxiety. This was especially true when we got further north and the roads got more hilly and the superchargers were few and far between. Point being we never pushed the car to the edge battery wise. That said there’s a ton of advanced settings on the site that allows to account for things that will affect the efficiency of the car. I tweaked these a little but not sure how accurate I got. In the end, it was a great baseline plan which we stuck to the majority of the time but didn’t feel tied to it and we were able to change our plans without ever feeling stuck.The Good, The Bad & The Beautiful:Going into this adventure we were very much aware of some of the downsides to the trip. We tried to go into it with an open mind ready to adapt as the trip evolved. Most of the pitfalls revolved around the kids tolerance to long stretches of drive time in the car. I would say they did good overall but we will be doing things a little different next time. Our vision for the trip was something akin to an episode of Rick Steves or Huell Howser: making little stops in small towns with points of interest along the way, soaking up the local culture. In reality, it was such a long drive coupled with the Tesla pit stops and reservations at campsites that by sticking to our itinerary, there wasn’t a lot of time to stop and smell the roses as much as we would have wanted to. I think we started off great: We ate Pea soup for Lunch in Buellton. We saw the elephant seals in San Simeon and walked on moonstone beach before arriving in Big Sur the first day. But the time it took to set up the tent, build a fire, cook dinner and keep the kids entertained was a lot of work and cut into our ability to just relax and enjoy the destination.Once we got the kids to bed, we were able to breath a little easier. Look at the stars, put another log on the fire etc. I think having a few key places to visit during the drive would work better than making the destination the activity because by the time we were done driving at the end of the day, all we wanted to do was relax and its hard setting up camp and wrangling kids at the same time.Camp mode:Since we were car camping and had so much stuff strategically organized in different places in the car, we found ourselves going in and out of it a lot at all hours during our stay. As an “expansion pack” to “camp mode” it would be great if there was an “eco / stealth mode” that turned off all the lights, sounds, AC system, sentry mode, and any other system that contributes to battery drain. The Tesla’s lights are very bright and I was very self conscious of disturbing other campers whenever I would have to go into the car. For those of you that have used Tesla as a road trip vehicle or car camper, I’d be curious if you share similar thoughts.Charging in Big Sur was one of the highlights of our Tesla adventure. Being able to look out at the beautiful coastline and walk around the Ventana grounds was a wonderful experience and gave me the sense that the car can literally go anywhere you want to go. After a 2 night stay, we packed up and kept truckin’.Breaking up the trip with more stops in the beginning definitely worked to make it easier on the kids. We had a campsite reserved in Del Norte which is in the Redwood forest. We drove through the Avenue of the Giants which was an amazing site to see with the glass roof. It was about this time that we were feeling the pressure to hit our checkpoints. We really wanted to stop at more places along the way but had to get to our site and it was getting close to sundown.Supercharging as a destination:Going into this experience I thought perhaps we could use our supercharging stops as a way to explore the local culture and do a couple touristy things with the kids while the car charged up. The reality is (currently) there’s usually not many unique points of interest that you can do in the immediate area. The superchargers are often in places with lots of chain restaurants, shops or hotels in walking distance. This makes total sense but imagine if you could plan your stops around cultural landmarks, parks and museums. Being able to take a hike and stretch your legs would be a huge benefit to the community.Once we made it to the more rural northwestern part of the country I was kind of expecting to be ICE-ed out of a charging spot. Happy to say I never encountered a single issue like that. I did run into several Canadian Tesla owners who all seemed to be road tripping like us which was pretty neat.Any last requests:Once we got to Montana and made it to our final destination we didn’t really drive it while we were visiting other than a couple short jaunts to the grocery store in town. We were only on a trickle charge at the place in Montana and unfortunately there’s no supercharging close by. In western Montana, everything is about 2 hours away. It would have been amazing to take the Tesla up to Glacier National Park but with all the steep mountain roads I didn’t want to risk it. however there are several RV parks that seem open to allowing you to charge up via their level 2 for a small donation. I would love to see a supercharger in Kalispell or Glacier like we have in Big Sur and Yellowstone.The long journey home:On the way back we chose to go through Utah which is the shortest route back to LA. It was cool to have sights to see on the way home. The first day driving back was our longest driving day with no activities planned other than Beach Buggies which they are freakishly obsessed with. We ended up driving from about 8AM to 9:30pm. I think it took a lot out of the kids because they really hit the wall the next day. Total scream fest and a lot more screen time to help them deal with being stuck in the car. The things I would have done differently as far as the kids go: We brought a big basket of toys / books / activities etc. My wife was amazing and came up with all kinds of things to keep them busy: road trip bingo, silly putty, magna blocks, coloring books, fire tablets with video games and little rewards for each day for being good. Everyone is different but I think things would have gone way smoother if we had just downloaded a bunch of movies and let them watch with little breaks in between and cut down on the clutter of random toys that seemed to just spill onto the floor causing more problems. Every activity seemed to end in a meltdown for the 3 year old especially. There’s only so long a kid can sit calmly tied to a car seat before they lose it. Also, we should have brought some dramamine. We had an incident or 2 on those winding roads in northern Cali where the littles couldn’t take it and ended up puking.Our last day was going to be an epic finale to the trip. Spend the day hiking around Zion and the evening in Vegas relaxing poolside at a nice hotel. The reality was both the kids kinda lost it that day. Making the short drive to Zion miserable and then it was like 107 out so they refused to walk anywhere. When we got to Vegas, the hotel was kind of a bust too and we never even went to the pool.Even after all that, we asked the kids if they would rather just fly next year and they said they would rather do the road trip again. I feel the same way. It’s not the quick and easy way but like life it’s not about the destination but the journey.​Here's a picture of our route and everything we fit in the car:https://imgur.com/a/9toMFiR​Apologies in advance for my amalgamation of incomplete thoughts. If there’s any further info you would like to know, feel free to ask. TL;DR we took a really long drive in a Tesla and lived to tell the tale.

Greeting fellow Tesla enthusiasts! I goofed and didn't include the text on my first attempt to post this. This is take 2.
We got back this week from a pretty epic road trip and wanted to share our experience with all of you. I’ve seen a fair amount of camping and road trip posts but not too many that include a family of 4. My hope is for those with kids that have thought about road tripping in a Tesla, you will be inspired by my experience to do the same.
Backstory:
Every summer we travel from L.A. to Flathead Lake, Montana to spend a couple weeks with my wife’s family. In the past we’ve always flown, but growing up, my wife would always drive with her family from Texas to Montana (basically her whole life) and those road trips really helped to bring her family close together. We want to give our kids a similar life experience and the Tesla felt poised to provide a unique and interesting twist on the family road trip.
We are avid campers and love getting out into nature so we built in some stops along the way to camp out. Since our kids are 6 and 3 we figured breaking up the road trip with some over night stops would make it easier on them. More on that later…
Stats & Logistics:
Trim: Model 3 LR Aeros 42 psi
Supercharger Stops: (22 scheduled 24 actual)
Energy bought: 884kWh
Energy costs: $210
3,116 scheduled miles (not including a few wrong turns)
Efficiency: 284 wh/mi (3.5mi/kWh)
8 States
Top speed 129mph ;)
ICE-ed supercharger stalls (0)
Stations with supercharger issues (4)
Fav. supercharger location: Big Sur (amazing view of the coast on the Ventana grounds)
Least fav. The Dalles (only location where we had to wait but only waited for about 10 min.)
Inventory list:
It was shocking how much we were able to fit inside the car and still be comfortable! I have included a picture of everything we packed inside the car. Between the frunk / trunk and additional storage inside the trunk we were able to utilize almost every cubic inch of available space.
Me (1)
Wife (1)
Kids (2)
car seats (2)
45L Yeti ice chest
REI kingdom 6 tent & footprint
REI queen Kingdom sleep system
Kids sleeping bags (2)
Therma-rests (2)
Pendleton blankets (2)
Camping blankets (2)
Pillows (4)
Towels (4)
Coleman 2 burner stove
Propane tanks (3)
Camping chairs (4)
Hammock
Lantern
Backpack filled with misc camping gear
2nd Packed filled with kitchen gear
Bag filled with TP, paper towels, trash bags...
10L water bladder
Water bottles (5)
Yeti coffee travel mug (2)
Food bags (2)
Coffee canister
French press
Bourbon bottles (2)
First aid kits (2)
Toiletries dob kit (2)
Sunscreen kit
Laptop
Fire tablets (2)
Ukulele
Large basket of toys & activities for kids
Packing cubes filled with clothes for about 5 days before washing (10)
100L duffle (not filled)
Extra shoes (4 pairs)
Small Personal backpacks (3)
Tesla charging cable kit
The Route:
Los Angeles,CA > Buelton,CA > San Luis Obisbo,CA > Big Sur,CA > San Carlos,CA > Ukiah,CA > Eureka,CA > Del Norte SP > Crescent City,CA > Grant Pass,CA > Springfield,OR > Tigard,OR > Portland,OR > The Dalles,OR > Kennewick,WA > Coeur d’Alene,ID > Superior,MT > Flathead Lake,MT > Missoula,MT > Butte,MT > Lima,MT > Pocatello,ID > Temonton,UT > Nephi, UT, Beaver, UT > Zion National Park,UT > St. George, UT > Las Vegas,NV > Yermo,CA > Home
The plan was to camp 2 nights in Big Sur then visit & stay the night with friends and family in the Bay Area. From there camp one night in Del Norte Redwoods SP and stay a night in Portland before finishing up in Montana. On the way back home we took the faster route through Utah. We wanted to camp for a night in Zion but we weren’t able to get a campsite. We ended up driving to Nephi, UT staying in a budget motel and then visiting family in Vegas and staying the night there. I think we could have powered through all the way home but not sure if the kids would have been able to handle it emotionally.
We used abetterrouteplanner.com to build our trip. I found it invaluable as a tool to figure out how to break up our stops and being able to run it inside Tesla’s web browser with realtime data is amazing. I love to drive our car fast and loose, we also had a lot of weight and whenever the battery got to around 20-30% we started to suffer range anxiety. This was especially true when we got further north and the roads got more hilly and the superchargers were few and far between. Point being we never pushed the car to the edge battery wise. That said there’s a ton of advanced settings on the site that allows to account for things that will affect the efficiency of the car. I tweaked these a little but not sure how accurate I got. In the end, it was a great baseline plan which we stuck to the majority of the time but didn’t feel tied to it and we were able to change our plans without ever feeling stuck.
The Good, The Bad & The Beautiful:
Going into this adventure we were very much aware of some of the downsides to the trip. We tried to go into it with an open mind ready to adapt as the trip evolved. Most of the pitfalls revolved around the kids tolerance to long stretches of drive time in the car. I would say they did good overall but we will be doing things a little different next time. Our vision for the trip was something akin to an episode of Rick Steves or Huell Howser: making little stops in small towns with points of interest along the way, soaking up the local culture. In reality, it was such a long drive coupled with the Tesla pit stops and reservations at campsites that by sticking to our itinerary, there wasn’t a lot of time to stop and smell the roses as much as we would have wanted to. I think we started off great: We ate Pea soup for Lunch in Buellton. We saw the elephant seals in San Simeon and walked on moonstone beach before arriving in Big Sur the first day. But the time it took to set up the tent, build a fire, cook dinner and keep the kids entertained was a lot of work and cut into our ability to just relax and enjoy the destination.
Once we got the kids to bed, we were able to breath a little easier. Look at the stars, put another log on the fire etc. I think having a few key places to visit during the drive would work better than making the destination the activity because by the time we were done driving at the end of the day, all we wanted to do was relax and its hard setting up camp and wrangling kids at the same time.
Camp mode:
Since we were car camping and had so much stuff strategically organized in different places in the car, we found ourselves going in and out of it a lot at all hours during our stay. As an “expansion pack” to “camp mode” it would be great if there was an “eco / stealth mode” that turned off all the lights, sounds, AC system, sentry mode, and any other system that contributes to battery drain. The Tesla’s lights are very bright and I was very self conscious of disturbing other campers whenever I would have to go into the car. For those of you that have used Tesla as a road trip vehicle or car camper, I’d be curious if you share similar thoughts.
Charging in Big Sur was one of the highlights of our Tesla adventure. Being able to look out at the beautiful coastline and walk around the Ventana grounds was a wonderful experience and gave me the sense that the car can literally go anywhere you want to go. After a 2 night stay, we packed up and kept truckin’.
Breaking up the trip with more stops in the beginning definitely worked to make it easier on the kids. We had a campsite reserved in Del Norte which is in the Redwood forest. We drove through the Avenue of the Giants which was an amazing site to see with the glass roof. It was about this time that we were feeling the pressure to hit our checkpoints. We really wanted to stop at more places along the way but had to get to our site and it was getting close to sundown.
Supercharging as a destination:
Going into this experience I thought perhaps we could use our supercharging stops as a way to explore the local culture and do a couple touristy things with the kids while the car charged up. The reality is (currently) there’s usually not many unique points of interest that you can do in the immediate area. The superchargers are often in places with lots of chain restaurants, shops or hotels in walking distance. This makes total sense but imagine if you could plan your stops around cultural landmarks, parks and museums. Being able to take a hike and stretch your legs would be a huge benefit to the community.
Once we made it to the more rural northwestern part of the country I was kind of expecting to be ICE-ed out of a charging spot. Happy to say I never encountered a single issue like that. I did run into several Canadian Tesla owners who all seemed to be road tripping like us which was pretty neat.
Any last requests:
Once we got to Montana and made it to our final destination we didn’t really drive it while we were visiting other than a couple short jaunts to the grocery store in town. We were only on a trickle charge at the place in Montana and unfortunately there’s no supercharging close by. In western Montana, everything is about 2 hours away. It would have been amazing to take the Tesla up to Glacier National Park but with all the steep mountain roads I didn’t want to risk it. however there are several RV parks that seem open to allowing you to charge up via their level 2 for a small donation. I would love to see a supercharger in Kalispell or Glacier like we have in Big Sur and Yellowstone.
The long journey home:
On the way back we chose to go through Utah which is the shortest route back to LA. It was cool to have sights to see on the way home. The first day driving back was our longest driving day with no activities planned other than Beach Buggies which they are freakishly obsessed with. We ended up driving from about 8AM to 9:30pm. I think it took a lot out of the kids because they really hit the wall the next day. Total scream fest and a lot more screen time to help them deal with being stuck in the car. The things I would have done differently as far as the kids go: We brought a big basket of toys / books / activities etc. My wife was amazing and came up with all kinds of things to keep them busy: road trip bingo, silly putty, magna blocks, coloring books, fire tablets with video games and little rewards for each day for being good. Everyone is different but I think things would have gone way smoother if we had just downloaded a bunch of movies and let them watch with little breaks in between and cut down on the clutter of random toys that seemed to just spill onto the floor causing more problems. Every activity seemed to end in a meltdown for the 3 year old especially. There’s only so long a kid can sit calmly tied to a car seat before they lose it. Also, we should have brought some dramamine. We had an incident or 2 on those winding roads in northern Cali where the littles couldn’t take it and ended up puking.
Our last day was going to be an epic finale to the trip. Spend the day hiking around Zion and the evening in Vegas relaxing poolside at a nice hotel. The reality was both the kids kinda lost it that day. Making the short drive to Zion miserable and then it was like 107 out so they refused to walk anywhere. When we got to Vegas, the hotel was kind of a bust too and we never even went to the pool.
Even after all that, we asked the kids if they would rather just fly next year and they said they would rather do the road trip again. I feel the same way. It’s not the quick and easy way but like life it’s not about the destination but the journey.
​
Here's a picture of our route and everything we fit in the car:
https://imgur.com/a/9toMFiR
​
Apologies in advance for my amalgamation of incomplete thoughts. If there’s any further info you would like to know, feel free to ask. TL;DR we took a really long drive in a Tesla and lived to tell the tale.

I'm exploring my options through contacts in the area, Airbnb, and Craigslist, but I thought why not post here as well. Not sure if this is the best sub, but any tips would be appreciated!
I'm a 28 year old male physical therapy student at the University of Kansas Medical Center seeking longer term housing (Aug 1 - Oct 11) while completing a long term clinical rotation near downtown Kalispell. I am neat and tidy with no pets, and I generally keep to myself. No drugs or smoking. I enjoy being active outdoors or in the gym, and when I'm home I'm usually studying, playing a little acoustic guitar, or watching movies.
I'm hoping to find a private room with at least a bed. Willing to negotiate on price.
Anyone with a room or at least some tips on finding a place, leave a comment or direct message!

I currently live in El Paso, and it was always meant to be a stepping-stone towards Montana because I really enjoy the outdoors and want a place that's green and has lakes and rivers. I'm tiered of the sand storms and heat. End of May my lease is up and I am thinking about taking a different job in my industry where I will be able to live in Montana and travel for work making $100k a year. I just need access to a decent airport.
My GF will be moving with me and she just needs a good internet connection in order to work from home. She feels the same about the outdoors.
We're thinking about moving to either Kalispell or Missoula. We have a few questions about both and were wondering if y'all could help.
1) Airports. How's traveling out of Kalispell vs Missoula? I'm supposed to be within an hour of an airport and I need to be able to go pretty much anywhere in the country. PNW, Midwest, Texas, Southwest, and occasionally California.
2) Outdoors. We just want to be able to live close to really nice forests, lakes, and rivers. We love hiking and camping. We want to be able to fish and kayak. Would you guys recommend Kalispell or Missoula areas? Kalispell looks like it's in a prettier area and closer to some of the national parks and forests, and it's also right next to Flathead lake. My GF really wants a place that has nice bike trails too. Is Kalispell prettier overall?
3) Housing. We're looking to rent for the first year then buy a house the second year. How are our options? We don't want to live in suburbia. It would be really nice to have a few acres.
4) Good food, good beer, movie theaters, and stores for groceries and hardware. Unfortunately REI is only in Missoula, but it's not like we go there weekly. We're in our mid 20s and we want to have some fun things to do in town as well. We're assuming Missoula would be the go-to because it's bigger but can we get by ok in Kalispell?
We're looking for somewhere beautiful to live, not too crowded but with some things to do, and with nature in our backyard.
Thanks for any help y'all can give us!

The jump scares, the monster under the bed, your friend dressed up as a man with a knife....these are all pretty damn scary. But, I consider these temporary and/or mild scares, scares that aren't slow. Often times, it's a harmless scene from a movie or a friend pulling a prank on you that elicits a 5 second shriek.
True fear, a pervasive fear that slowly eats away at your conscious comes out of the unknown. The feeling that deep in the depths of darkness, something is going to take you away, that something is lurking in the shadows. It's the feeling that any second, you could be dead, the feeling that a pair of beady eyes are staring right at you, but you can't stare back.....
........
My journey began in Montana. It was a November night in 2004, and I was en route to Calgary, Canada. My family comes from Canada, and I was making the drive from my home in Billings to Calgary. The main highways were shutting down in preparation for a snowstorm, and few dared to drive out in the impending snowstorm.
Me, I was a cocky 20 year old who didn't give a damn. I figured, "I was born in Canada, I drive a F-150, I can handle some snowy roads."
Rural Montana is eerie at night, especially the backroads. The main route from Kalispell to Lethbridge(Canada) was closed, and I was forced to take a back route, a seemingly endless two lane road that probably hadn't been worked on in decades.
I remember turning my turn signal on, and heading north on that road. It was about 11pm, and the snow showers were beginning to turn into a windy, snowy mess, with my windshield wipers just barely clearing off the falling snow.
I wasn't worried about the weather, nor the ice coating the two laned road, nor the health of my mother. No, I was preoccupied with the feeling that something was behind me. See, the road was entirely straight, and cut through a dense, dense pine forest. The road was devoid of any curves, turns, or signs, it was merely a fifty mile long straight shot through a dense forest.
Straight. Endless.
My brights only exposed the sheer desolation, the isolation of the environment in which I was in. I hadn't seen an automobile in half an hour. I felt exposed yet utterly alone at the same time. To calm my nerves I inserted a Toby Keith CD into my radio and cranked the volume up.
The soothing sound of country guitar was beginning to relax me, it was alleviating the feeling of unease. About a minute into the song, the track became jumbled. The guitar solo was abruptly interrupted by scratchy sounds.
It was akin to nail on a chalkboard, it was absolutely unbearable. As I adjusted the volume, my F-150 lost traction on the ice, and within seconds, I found my car coming to a screeching halt, my hood trapped in a large snow bank approximately 20 feet off the side of the road.
"FUCK," I screamed.
I turned on my hazards and proceeded to curse like a sailor as I stepped out of the car and into the snowy landscape. The blizzard hindered the visibility to the point where I could hardly see feet in front of me. A ferocious icy wind was burning my face, and the feeling of unease only grew.
I threw on an extra parka, and turned my car off.
That's when I heard his voice.
"Adam," he said. "Adam?!"
It was a voice that absolutely sent shivers up my spine, a voice that caused me to tense up like a marble statue.
It was the voice of my father.
"Adam, is that you?"
I gulped and could barely breathe. My father was a park ranger in Banff, and then at Glacier National Park when we moved to America. When I was ten years old, he got lost in a snowstorm, and was never heard from again. His body was never found, and while the police searched for weeks, he was eventually declared dead.
I didn't have time to draw parallels between my situation and his situation, and I let emotion overtake me.
"Dad?!"
I continued; "Dad....Dad, I....can't see you."
"I can see you just fine," it said. "Come a little closer."
I froze. The seconds of emotions and adrenaline had abruptly come to a halt. I'm a rational man. My father was dead, he had been dead for ten years. Something else was going on.
"Adam, did I stutter, come with me," it said. "Come with me. It's nice and warm where I stand, come with me."
I still couldn't see whatever the fuck was speaking, and I had no time to play games. I hopped in my car and started the ignition.
The damn thing wouldn't start.
"Adam, your car won't start, it's futile," it said. The voice was distorted this time, it sounded as if my father had the flu, a real deep, raspy voice.
Despite the freezing cold, I could feel nervous sweat dripping from my brow. The slow scare I mentioned was sinking in. I couldn't think, my hands shook relentlessly as I tried to start the car.
Against my better judgment, I stepped out the pickup truck, and ran the opposite direction.
I had never run faster in my life, the only force keeping my ass from running out of breath was pure fear and adrenaline.
Behind me I heard it calling my name, it's voice becoming more distorted each second.
"Adam."
"ADAM!"
"ADAHHHM!"
Within minutes, as the snow relentlessly beat down on me, and as the moon became shrouded by pine trees and snow, I found myself in the middle of a pine forest.
Lost.
Lost completely.
It's voice, however, was slowly disappearing. As it faded into the night, so did my consciousness. The cold had gotten to me, and I hadn't realized it. Before I drifted to an unconscious sleep, I slowly put two and two together.
"It's November....my dad....November....snowstorm....lost forever....."
Those were my final thoughts before waking up in a Great Falls Hospital.
Surrounded by doctors, I glanced around me. I was dizzy and dozed in and out of consciousness before finally waking up. I drew a comparison between what happened to my father when I was ten, and the near death I had avoided. I shivered.
After minutes of recuperating, the doctor beside my bed explained what had happened.
"Mr. [redacted], you are a lucky, lucky man. You were found unconscious 200 yards away from a country road. Your body temperature was 88F, I'm amazed that you seemingly won't suffer any long term affects."
"Who found me," I asked completely dazed, still recalling the thing that had chased me.
"Some man driving to Missoula saw your Ford deep in the trees off the side of the road, your hazards reflecting some light. Minutes later, he heard groaning, and found your motionless body in the snow."
The doctor continued; "I only have one real question before I let you rest and talk to your mother. What drove you to leave your automobile and run into a pine forest, in the middle of a snowstorm?"
He coughed and chuckled as he said; "I mean, c'mon, what happened, did you see a ghost?"
As he laughed at his corny joke, I thought to myself;
I wish I had seen it.......

This was in June of 2014 - almost exactly two years ago now. I was in Kalispell, Montana, with my grandparents for two weeks during that summer break; I was the only grandchild able to go, and my parents had to stay home, too. My grandfather was recovering from a recent leg infection as well, which had cut our trip from a month down to two weeks while he was hospitalized.
One night I was finishing a horror novel - I won't list the name for copyright reasons. Around 11:00 PM I finished the novel and we all decided to go to bed. Now, the house my grandparents lived in at the time was built during the 70's - wheel-crank windows, ventilation pipes that popped and groaned in the night, wooden floors.. All that fun stuff. Anyway, I was closing a window when I suddenly felt a negative presence in front of me.. It was like taking a sledgehammer to the chest.
I looked up and saw, in my mind's eye, a demon. It was about seven feet tall, with black, almost charred-looking skin and had a hunched-over gait. It had lanky arms that went past the knees and a head almost round as a ball. The eyes were a stark red with tiny pupils and a smile filled with sharp teeth that went across the entirety of its face. It was like putting the Cheshire Cat through hell itself and slapping the face on a distorted figure.
Being a Christian, I wasn't very surprised at the sight of a demon - so little, in fact, that I almost didn't believe it was happening. I quickly closed the window and the blinds and turned around to face my grandparents.. And there it was. Right on the other side of the kitchen, in the doorway next to the hall. I couldn't believe it; my grandparents couldn't see it? It.. Didn't move. They had no reaction - it was like it had latched onto me and me specifically.
Any room I entered outside of a church - any hallway - even on the road... It was already there. Waiting for me. At night, it would hover next to my bed and I could hear its voice taunting me and telling me I was powerless. For four nights I let this go on purely out of disbelief until it scared the living shit out of me.
One night I was reading another book next to my grandfather. I was laying across a couch facing into the kitchen, at the table where I had first encountered the thing. It was sitting in my grandfather's chair. I repositioned myself so I wouldn't have to see those eyes and that smile.. And for the first time I actually saw the thing move. It lowered its face down and placed its hand together, and I could've sworn the smile got even bigger. It knew I was terrified.
The next day we were at a Mexican restaurant (of course, the thing was there). I finally told them about what was happening, and even they couldn't believe it. They're Christians, too. So that night my grandfather was going about the house, doing an old oil-blessing ritual on every access point to the house - door frames, pipes, you name it. The last one was in the laundry room, and I remember him praying over the door that led outside when a sudden rush of air brushed past me and into the closet next to me. There was an air shaft we hadn't noticed in that closet.
He prayed over the air shaft, and then myself. I haven't had any demonic encounters since.. But that was definitely the most real, and most terrifying experience I've ever had. Since then, I can't watch any movies or read any stories that have to do with the demonic. I just can't and won't.
But that smile... That Cheshire Cat from Hell...... I will never forget that as long as I live.

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Date: 2013-05-03
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Questions	Answers
What's the closest call to an accident you've ever experienced?	My engine quit over the adriatic sea near Venice in 2009. I couldn't get it restarted and had to dead-stick it in to a nearby airfield. I had to jettison the fuel tanks to make it back safely. Thank God no one was hurt. I landed with one hand on the stick and one hand ready to pull the ejection seat. That was quite a day. Went home and kissed my wife after that!
	You are bringing back very vivid memories...wow! just like yesterday.
How do you feel about the dying fighter pilot culture?	I am a core (and die hard) F-16 American Fighter Pilot. I love this jet and its mission. I do not crave anything else (not sure if that is good or bad) I feel that we need keep the fighter pilot culture alive and well. There are so many heroes that have gone before me (my heroes) that have done amazing things as fighter pilots. We owe them a lot and the least we can do is honor them.
1) I had heard that the Sequester had effected the Blue Angels. Is the same true for the Thunderbirds and if so, how do you feel about it?	Hello LordFluffy! Yes, it is true. Our 2013 show season, along with the Blue Angels, has been cancelled. While is was disappointing news to me, we can still make an impact on people's lives for the better without putting on a demonstration. Yesterday I had the opportunity to speak to a classroom of students, as an example. That was awesome!!!
2) What was climbing into a combat jet for the first time like?	Climbing in to the F-16 for the first time was a dream come true!!! I wish I could describe it. There is nothing like it!!!
Do you think the USAF is well positioned to meet future national mission objectives with the introduction of the F-35A and the resulting force structure?	You do not have to go very far to confirm for yourself that the age of airpower is NOT over. Our current National Security Strategy outlines a very balanced approach to sovereign options that the POTUS has. Airpower is just one of them. You as well, nohandnick, also rock!!!
Blue Angels and Thunderbirds get into a dogfight. Who wins and why?	Thunderbirds will come out victorious in a dogfight. The mighty Blk 52 F-16 is incredible.
My callsign is "Jaws". While it sounds cool, I recieved it from doing something 'novice' in the jet where my peers laughed at me!!! It was a funny story.	It will take about two hours to tell that story...
I am currently aspiring to be a pilot in the Air Force. I already have my private license and am about to finish my instrument rating and I'm going to start ROTC at ERAU in the fall. Any tips on how to help my chances?	Wow! you are already light years ahead of me!!! my advice is to ask you for advice on how to be so high speed at such a young age.
	All I can offer up is to never let anyone rip your dreams away from you!!!
	Your friend,
	Jaws.
Do you ever take for granted that you're in one of the coolest careers in the existence of humanity?	NEVER. My approach to my career is one of humility and respect. Please realize that I did not get here by myself!!! I had teachers in high school who believed in me. I grew up in a single parent family because my father was killed in his jet before I was born. I am thankful to all. Before every show I get on my knees and pray that I might lift up the crowd and make them feel good about themselves, and to walk away with a sense of American pride.
	I am very humbled and thankful that I have been given the opportunity to do this everyday!
	Nice question...gave me goosebumps!
	Your friend,
	Jaws.
Supposedly only about 5-10% of the attendants to flight school get to flight jets, let alone fighter jets.	Man, good question. I don't really know what the percentage is. I will say, however, that the best fighter pilots in our Air Force are the ones overseas serving in combat right now and the ones at Weapons School. I just merely represent that. My hat is off to them. You the man, tehsuper!!! Jaws.
What would you say the porcentage of somebody actually making it to thunderbirds really is? (1 in 10,000?)
With the influx of drones for use in military action, would you say there is a discord between pilots who fly from a cockpit and those who sit at a computer? Do you think the military may phase out some aircraft as drones become more prevalent?	I have a lot of brother fighter pilots who now fly drones. They did not make this move by choice, but out of duty. Drones are here to stay and will provide an ever increasing role in armed conflict.
	Nice q--you rock!
	Jaws.
It already comes across that you love your job. How many years in combat roles do you have to have under your belt before being considered?	I have about 5 years in combat units plus a year as an instructor under my belt. You can do it too!
	Yes indeed I love my job...it is a beautiful thing to live your childhood dream!!!
What's it like working with the rest of the Tracy family?	Wow! That is an old TV show!!! I like it. The person I am when the cockpit closes is a very different person than the one when I am on the ground. On the ground, I like to be cool and laid back. In the air, I transform into someone else...not quite sure what goes on, but its almost like something or someone takes over me...
But seriously, what's the mindset you have to be in when going up in a jet?	I cannot either confirm nor deny the "Thunderbirds are Go!" question...gotta keep you guessing!
Okay one more: Does anyone ever say "Thunderbirds are Go!" at the beginning of a mission?	Jaws
Capt Curtis, Is it true that the USAF Thunderbirds fly the oldest F-16s in USAF inventory? If so, what Block and approximately how old are they? Thanks!	Hi! No, we don't fly the oldest...our jets were created in 1992. We fly the most powerful F-16--the mighty Block 52!!!
	Lets go fly, what do you think?!?
Hey #6, former JTAC here, may have even talked to you in Afghanistan! Thanks for doing an AMA, you guys are awesome.	Hey brother, if you are a former JTAC, then you are a friend of mine...I have NOTHING but respect for you guys. Your job must have been tough! Drinks on me whenever we get to meet, I'm serious.
How does preparing for a combat mission compare to the type of flying you do now?	I approach what I do now with the same intensity as combat. The focus is just a little different. Instead of helping my brothers on the ground who are in harms way, I try to encapsulate those stores (of you) and showcase them to the public. YOUR story deserves to be told, not mine. I am just honored to do it.
Ever ski at Big Mountain? I went out there for nationals one year in the 90s and it was incredible. 3 feet the day we arrived (at the Kalispell airport!) and more over the week.	Hey brother, Big Mountain is my HOME MOUNTAIN!!! I was there every Friday night, Sat and Sun from 3 years old until 18!!! I love that place. I know all the secret runs and powder staches that usually go untouched. I'm glad you got to experience it. Let's go back, then hang out at Moose's afterwards!!!
	Jaws.
I have to ask, have you ever had a situation when you thought, that was too close ! and that moment you felt your heart skip a beat?	Yes...that is what makes life worth living!!! There are plenty of close calls in our business, but the good news is that we are the most highly trained professionals in the world!
	Lets go fly!!!
What is your craziest memory from a combat mission?	The opening night of combat operations over Libya. What a sight to see. I have never witnessed so much professionalism from tactical aviators before in my life. Puts a tear in a fighter pilots eye.
	Maybe we can talk more about the specifics of it when it becomes unclassified.
	TB#6.
What College did you go to? And if so, did you pursue ROTC or OTS? I was in ROTC but was medically disqualified through miswording on my DODMERB, but I am finding ways around getting it overturned, so any help and inspiration is much appreciated!	I was honored to attend the USAFA...never thought I would get in!!! I am sorry to hear about your medical situation. I will humbly offer up to never give up hope--there are many waivers that you can pursue. If it is truly what you want to do, I know there is a way. Good luck! your friend, jaws (thunderbird #6!)
How do you think the Thunderbirds compare to The Red Arrows?	The Red Arrows are great. A whole lot more jets and maybe some more finesse.
	What the Thunderbirds bring is Afterburning Engines that are so LOUD THEY WILL MAKE YOUR TEETH RATTLE!!! Pretty tough to compare to that. Now, when you add on top the professional ground demonstration of our maintainers (the best in the world) and some good 'ol American Rock n' Roll music on top...well, it just doesn't get any better than that!!!
	Rock on, my brother.
	Jaws.
How many times per day are you asked if you're the real-life Tom Cruise?	Ahhh, that is funny. Just like once or twice...:)
What's the oldest one you've...piloted?	I remember flying a 1940's Lescomb out of grass airstrips back home in montana. It was a bast!!!
Sir, I'm a first class cadet at the Air Force Academy (graduating at the end of May and heading to pilot training). Love your shows at graduation every year... but it doesn't look like we'll have you guys here to flyover due to sequestration. Huge bummer. Is there any options on the table to get you guys here just for the flyover? How bummed are you that you don't get to do the Academy show? I hear it's a fun one.	Hey there, my man. I am really sorry that we will not be putting on a demo to help celebrate your big day. Trust me, i'm bummin' more than you!!! I still remember throwing up my hat on that day in 2004. unfortunately we can't even due a flyover due to the fiscal situation. This challenge is on a national level and we are just a small part of it.
Thanks for your service sir, and I hope to see you in the Air Force someday! Maybe pull some G's with you...	Good luck...you will do well! Hope to meet you in the future!
Quick FYI, I've loved the Thunderbirds since a very early age!	There IS a friendly rivalry between us and the Blues!!! But more than that, there is a whole lotta mutual respect!!! We haven't been able to cross paths with the Blues due to current DoD airshow policy...gotta spread it out to reach out!!!
How often do you guys cross paths with other demo teams such as the Blue Angels? Is there a good rivalry involved? Do you have many dealings with other international demo teams?	Jaws.
I start SUPT at Vance in a few months. What would be your biggest advice for excelling? Any outside sources that you know of that would be helpful? Congrats on making the T-Birds! It's a big goal of mine for the future as well.	Hey brother, congrats on making it to pilot training!!! The best advice i can give you is to remember that the ONLY two things you can control is your ATTITUDE and your EFFORT. You can be a Thunderbird. Heck, if I can do it, you DEFINITELY can do it. Dont sell yourself short of your dream. Good luck!
Awesome Missoula, Montana here lol so when is there ever going to be an air show with the Thunderbirds here or near Montana?	Yeah!!! Montana represent!!! Man, I am REALLY trying to bring the Thunderbirds back home. We had a show scheduled in Kalispell this summer, but it has been cancelled. I know they are looking to turn it back on for next year, so hopefully I will get a chance to meet you! When was the last time you climbed to the top of the "M"?!? Ha! Thanks for writing. Your Montana friend, Jaws.
Hello 6! Can you provide your opinion on the band Purple Helmet? Specifically, the rhythm section? I think they're pretty righteous.	Good to hear from you brother!!! I don't know about the drummer, but I do know that there bass player is the best this world has ever seen!!! Gives Flea a run for his money!!!
Can you describe what goes on in your mind when you pull ridiculous G's?	Not much goes through my mind, really. Ha! Because it is so physical, you really can't think. When we pull 9 G's very close to the ground, it HAS to be by feel and it had to be instinctual.
	Take care,
	Jaws.
Hey jaws,	I think the biggest skill set I will take away is just how to motivate people and become a leader. That is very important to me.
When you leave the t-birds what skill set will be most improved and be most beneficial to your role as a combat pilot?	Because the show is so demanding, we focus solely on putting on a safe show. I have had many combat experiences, and I will return to a combat unit after leaving the team.
Do you have to perform combat training on top of your performance trading as well during the of season?	Jaws.
When you form up for the six ship, do you find it more challenging to fly close-in or to hold formation farther apart? (5 card and line abreast come to mind.)	Whats up Madmen?!?
	5 card and line break are VERY challenging. They require a lot of 'feel' and have little room for error. The six ship portion is also difficult because by the time us Solos get there, we are usually physically exhausted and have been 'wild and free' for the last 45 minutes.
	That is why i really enjoy this job--it is very challenging!!!
	Thanks for an awesome question!!!
	Your friend, jaws.
Jaws, do you ever get a chance to fly the mighty T-51 anymore?	Hey brother, sorry I haven't flown the mighty T-51. I would love to give it a try, though! take care. your friend, jaws.
Maybe dumb question but I'll give it a shot: Which is the consumer based flight simulator comes the closest to the real thing?	Ask the FS Thunderbirds--they have that stuff down to a science. You can google them and find out some info. Maybe Thrustmaster, I think?
	Jaws.
1) How much PIC time does a typical fighter pilot get in a week/months time?(war time and base time)	As a combat ready pilot we get about 15 hours a month (10 sorties). As a Thunderbird, we sometimes get over 40 sorties a month to perform our demonstration safely. It is very physically demanding to put on a show, and i love it!!! take care, jaws.
Are you aweare that they made a movie about you in 1968? Link to en.wikipedia.org.	You know it!!! I think it was a science fiction thing, right?
If you could would you get a pet narwhal?	Hello La Dirty Cuban!!!
	Man, it is like you read my mind...I would love a pet narwhal!!!
	Maybe a little wombat as well?!? what do you think?
I was just wondering what the day to day experience is like for you before you became a Thunderbird. Like as a combat pilot. I'm looking for a CSO slot next year and I just wanted to know what it is like to be in a rated position on a day to day basis?	Being a day to day combat fighter pilot is great--I would put it on par (if not above) being a Thunderbird. As a combat pilot, I was doing the J.O.B. of the Air Force, not just flashy jets and tight show suits. Rated or non-rated, I have witnessed brothers in all AFSC's in the Air Force that love their job. You, my friend, will to. Don't be nervous...it is just pure fun.
If you could drive any plane in history for an airshow, would it still be the f-16?	Man, I REALLY love the F-16!!! One of my first memories was seeing the Thunderbirds when I was 4 years old.
Do you get grief from the guys flying the newer stuff(f-22 or f-35)?	If I lived in another era, I would kill to fly the P-51. Best fighter in my opinion.
Ever bail out of a plane?	No grief from my F-22 or F-35 brothers, only respect. I've got mutual respect right back at them. Truth.
How did you become a combat fighter pilot who also performs for a crowd? What kind of education and experience did you need for such a position?	I had a dream since I was four years old and I have been pursuing it ever since. Also, it is such an honor to serve our country in this capacity. I have an aero degree from the Academy and a Masters degree from ERAU. You need about 750 hours of fighter time to apply for a Thunderbird position. Thanks for the questions!!!
Have you got any interest in classic warbirds or older jets? I'm a commercial guy but I've always wanted to fly the Hawker Hunter. Have you any ambition for flying in 'classic' flights, or have you done so already?	My grandfather flew the Spitfire for the RAF in WWII...so naturally I love classic warbirds. The Hawker Hunter would be an absolute thrill to fly. I always dream of flying in the Battle of Britain like my grandfather--those must have been the days!
Also, do you do any tours in Nellis? I've got a group of student pilots that would love a trip.	Jaws.
My dad is one of your biggest fans, and it's a close toss up to who he likes better between you and the Blue Angels, but I think you guys edge them out. I've been going to you're airshows since I was a kid with my brothers and my dad, and I just want to say thank you very much for carrying on a legacy/tradition. Can I get a shout out to Tom J. from Texas?!	Tom J, what's going on, MY BROTHER?!? Mad props.
	Thanks for the kind words and the support. The Blue Angels are great, and I speak with Blue Angel #6 often. There is a lot of mutual respect there. They offer unique aspects to their demo, but I am a bit biased and truly believe we put on a show that will lift people up and make them feel good about being Americans.
	Take care. Solos Rule!
	Jaws.
What are your thoughts on the Cheyenne, Wyoming show being cancelled this year? Would it have been better to axe others to keep the longtime tradition going?	Man, I really wish we could have kept Cheyenne alive. The Team has been there since 1953 and it was the first air show that we ever did. Sad to see that go away.
	Unfortunately EVERY SHOW got axed. The decision to cancel the Thunderbirds this year was on a National level.
	Sorry for the bad news!!! Cheyenne Frontier Days Rocks, though!!!
	Jaws.
Where were you stationed for training? I am from Columbus,MS and the base there puts out a large number of pilots.	I have a lot of friends that went to Columbus, but I went to Sheppard AFB in Wichita Falls, TX. Then, I went to Luke AFB to learn how to fly the mighty F-16!!! All over the world since then.
	Take care, brother!
	Your friend,
	Thunderbird#6.
Hi Capt. Thanks for doing this AMA. A couple of questions: During your time with the Thunderbirds, have you had the chance to perform in Latin America? And if so, was it more challenging than doing so in the U.S.? Again, thank you and keep up the good job!	Hey, thanks for the question!!! Unfortunately, I haven't had the honor of performing a show in Latin America. We went there a couple of years ago before I was on the Team. Also, I think one of our largest shows was down there as well.
	Each show site has its unique variables, so they are all a challenge (and a whole lotta fun, too).
Hey #6, I am a very large aircraft enthusiast, and I saw you guys at the 2010(I think) airshow in Rhode Island, I have to say, it was one of the best demonstrations I've ever seen.	Hey brother, thanks for the kind words and support! My favorite music (band) right now is the Red Hot Chili Peppers--Chad Smith is one of my heroes on the drums. Awesome guy, and super humble.
I was wondering, how did you get your nickname, "Jaws"?	Check out one of the comments above for the story behind "Jaws"...
while I'm at it, what's your favorite music style to drum to?	J.A.W.S.
How many G's do you think you can pull before passing out? How many do you think you could pull/people could pull in a prop-driver fighter without the gear that was available back then. (Lets say a P-51 in 1945)	Wow, I dunno. I'm right at my limit with 9G's. The world starts to get 'gray' after that for me.
	I'd say maybe 5G's. The G-suit helps a lot, especially when we are close to the ground!
	Jaws.
In your instructing days, ever fly with another instructor, call sign "TESS"?	Don't think so. is he awesome?!!
How long have you served in the military.	I have served for 8 years after graduating from the Air Force Academy!!!
How different is it for you flying over the ocean vs at an airbase. example: Atlantic City vs McGuire.	I'm glad you got to meet Fifi and some of our crew--by all means grab us and pull us aside...don't be shy! Over water shows are very challenging due to the lack of a clearly defined show line. thanks again for your support!!! Jaws.
Also, thanks for being great to the crowd. I got to meet the #5 mechanic in 2007 and he took me and my parents (my dad is a huge, huge fan) out to the tarmac after the airshow and awesome pictures were taken. Plus, meeting Malachowski was pretty cool.
My uncle just left the thunderbirds for Italy. He only had good things to say.	Is your uncle Lt Col Chris Austin?
As someone who grew up watching that puppet thunderbirds show on TV this AMA deceived me briefly.	Be decieved no longer!!! Good morning from Thunderbird #6!!!
	Hope you are doing well.
	Jaws.
Just want to say thanks for serving. I've watched many Thunderbird shows going back to the 70's and I will say that the head on pass where you rotate 90 degrees still gives me goose bumps no matter how many times I see it.	Man, that head on pass still gives me goosebumps every time I fly it! It takes a lot of concentration to make that maneuver turn out well!!!
	I hope we will put on an airshow for you soon!
So awesome that you are doing this AMA. Just wanted to say, thanks for making people smile. My dad flew on the demo team when he was in the Viper. Fucking cool watching him at air shows. Keep living the dream!	Rock on, my brother!!! Much respect to you and your father. Thanks for the support!
	Jaws.
Hello #6! Obviously you love your team, but I was wondering about your opinion on other teams (Canada's Snowbirds, the Blue Angels, The UK's Red Arrows etc)	They are all awesome (...except the Blues). Ha! I kid, they are all great. I have yet to see the Snowbirds fly, but one of my instructor pilots at ENJJPT was a former Snowbird pilot. He taught how to fly formation in the T-38, and is the reason I enjoy flying in formation so much. His name is Chris Van Vliet, and he is one heck of a pilot!
	Nice question!
	Jaws.

Last updated: 2013-05-08 03:44 UTC
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