10/27/2026
My Appalachian Ghost Story: The Settler's Cabin
The Appalachian Trail is full of supernatural myth, lore, and traditions. Walk its 2200 mile path and a traveler is sure to have their own paranormal encounters.
This thru-hike for the class of 2022 was no different for me.
It was November in Virginia when I came across the abandoned homesteader cabin-near the Dragon's Tooth (to the south about 20 miles?). The moment the path brought this broken down wooden structure into view, my stomach clenched. My eyes darted to see if someone was near. I knew.
I knew I wasn't alone. I knew someone was attached to this property. With no living souls near, my steps crew hesitant. I was weary of drawing closer.
The fog and mist was ebbing and flowing in the tree line. As if it was drawn to the meadow where the remnants of a life long past had once called it home.
It was cold that day, but every step seemed to make my world colder. I knew that if I kept going that there was no turning back. The weather would turn worse and the days hike must be traversed. My ride to pick me up would be meeting me 12 miles to the north and I couldn't miss it.
So I willed myself forward-down the path that would show me what was hiding in the shadows.
The moments drew slowly. My death drew quickly. And the suspense of knowing drew and repelled me equally.
When I first saw her, she was a tiny thing in white peaking around the corner of what I would assume was her home. Her dark eyes peering into my soul. Judging? Measuring me? She seemed different than the others that I had seen before. As if somehow the vitality of life was not what sustained her into the beyond. It was if she had somehow been hollowed out and replaced with a void whose depth of darkness faded all light.
Then she was gone.
I turned to take more steps to draw me up the mountain path and away. Away from this creature. This hollowed spirit. This child that was no more.
Movement caught my eye and without thinking my head turned back. Back toward the cabin and the dark eyed child. To see a women moving toward me. The girl specter at her heels. The women's dark eyes matched that of the young girl. Both with masses of long stringy brown hair that swept down to their shoulders. The fog was swirling at their feet in the meadow and both of these strange spirits were slowly walking toward me.
Tentative, wobbly steps taken by them both. As if drifting through molasses instead of the fog. More zombie than spirit. Jerky motions as if they were trying to battle through cement rather than mere water v***r. There progress was slow but persistent. These spirits were not going to be stopping until their goal was met.
Was the goal to get to me or had I stumbled across a scene that had unfolded many times before? And was I just a witness to this reenactment-in the wrong place at the wrong time?
My heart leapt into my chest. Breath heaving. I turned quickly. My feet making the decision and my mind having to catch-up. When you are a traveler, your steps take you into the paths of many of the unknowns this universe shows those that can see and it seemed that I had walked into a tragedy still unfolding.
A tragedy for the experienced to be weary of, lest we become part of it. So I turned away. Pretending their plight didn't pull on my heartstrings. I turned up trail. Seeking the peace of a quieter path and wishing these hollowed spirits rest at last. Knowing that my wishes would be met with a cynical fate.
Whatever those spirits were or are to this day, I can tell you the feeling and observation of that encounter is lasting with me. I think of them often. Why were they at the homestead cabin? What life did they live? And what tragedy took them from us all to soon? And why were they seeking me out? The answers will never be known. But the answer of the beyond and spirit and if they do exist is absoulute. Yes. Spirit is real. And they haunt themselves as much as us. This I know.
Dez a Crone
Haunted Traverse
