“My sister and I went camping in the North Cascades in Washington state. This was our first time camping just the two of us. The first night there, we set up our tent and went to sleep. The next day, we woke up early and hiked Sourdough mountain. That night when we got back to the campsite at around eight, it looked like our stuff had been rifled through. Nothing had been taken. We brushed it off, mostly because we were insanely tired and sore. We went to sleep.
I woke up at around three am to the sounds of loud singing. At this point, I’m just annoyed, because I’m exhausted. After listening closer I realized it was not a language I am familiar with, and the man sounded absolutely insane.
I’m increasingly getting more and more terrified because the singing kept getting louder and quieter like he was walking around singing. I wake my sister up to listen to the singing, and literally, at this exact time, we hear the sound of tree branches snapping. Someone or something was walking around our tent. At this point, we’re freaking out.
Suddenly, a flashlight shines in on my side of the tent. Like he was looking in. There was no flashlight shining up until this point. He couldn’t have been more than 5 feet away from my side of the tent. We left all of our stuff in the tent and booked it to the car. The spots for parking were right behind the tent so I shined my car’s brights at whoever it was and it was a large man in a hoodie unzipping our tent. Who knows what he wanted, but it was terrifying. Also, I think the crazy singer saved us because it woke us up before the man got into our tent.”