Destination Weirdsville: The Bilgers Rocks Incident

Bilgers Rocks

On this Destination Weirdsville, I share with you a personal tale of the utter weirdness I experienced in a forest in the middle of the keystone state (my home state of Pennsylvania). I’m not making this up, it actually happened and it was exceptionally weird.

Bilgers Rocks is a place not too far from where I live. Basically, it’s a bunch of very large rocks in the middle of the forest. When I say very large, I’m talking like two story house large. Doesn’t much matter how they got there. That isn’t essential to the story.

I’ve only ever been there once and it sufficiently creeped me out enough to never return. I’d kind of like to go back, but there is something about that place that isn’t quite right. Well it’s not really something, it’s more like someone.

Before my wife and I got married and had the kiddo we used to take trips to places like this all the time. We enjoy getting out into the wilderness when we can. She’d been to Bilgers Rocks as a kid and suggested we go there. So of course I said, “Sure, why not.” and off we went.

We drove for awhile and eventually ended up on this narrow road going through the trees. On the right stood a small home, one of those overly small homes where you aren’t sure how anyone can actually live in such a tiny place. On the left was the very small, and very empty parking area for Bilgers Rocks, nothing more than a twenty yard long strip of gravel beside the road. We almost missed it. We have a tendency to do that when we take trips. It’s a rare occurrence where we don’t miss a turn along the way.

I parked the car and we climbed out to stretch our legs. Grabbing  my backpack (it had a couple snacks and some water in it) and my camera, we headed off into the forest, through a gap between two very large, and very graffitied (is that a word?) rocks.

A “cave” at Bilgers Rocks

The place was pretty cool, actually. We spent some time, about half an hour, walking between the rocks and climbed up on a few. Then something caught my eye: a large, white spot in my peripheral vision. About thirty yards behind us was a boy, too young to be out in the middle of nowhere by himself. He was a bit plump for his age, I’m assuming about eight, but he had an odd look about him. His white shirt was crisp and clean but his hair was disheveled. I could tell that even from so far away. I assumed he was with another group that had come to see the rocks, but there wasn’t anyone else around. Not even anyone else talking or making noise. It was just him, off in the distance, staring at us through the trees.

My wife didn’t seem to notice him so I didn’t bring up the topic that a weird little kid was watching every move we made. We kept on our journey through the rocks, taking photos and climbing here and there. Every step of the way he followed us, always about thirty yards off. This lasted about ten minutes before my wife finally noticed him. I told her he’d been following us for awhile. That freaked her out, understandably. It was at that point that he started toward us. It was almost like he was waiting for both of us to see him before making his move. He got to within about five feet then just walked past us grinning from ear to ear, not even acknowledging us.

He stopped about ten feet beyond us, bent down, and picked up a large stick. He looked back at us, still bent over, and I’d swear to you he winked. He stood up and used the stick as a walking stick until he was about thirty yards away again. He then turned around and watched us some more. It was at that point that my wife and I looked at each other and she said, “you ready to go?”

To which I replied simply, “yup.”

I’d never been creeped out by a kid before that day, but man this kid took the cake, then gobbled it down in one bite.

We returned to the tiny parking lot, to find that ours was still the only car there, which kind of creeped us out even more. He followed us the whole way back, stopping at the far end of the passage between the graffitied boulders. We assume he came from the house across the road, but there weren’t any cars there either, so we were a bit perplexed.

We haven’t gone back since. Maybe one day we’ll venture back into the forest only to have an overweight twenty-something with crazy hair follow us around the entire time, or worse, maybe the boy won’t have aged a day. I’m not sure which would be worse.

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Destination Weirdsville: Let’s go to Romania!

Note: Despite its amazingly realistic appearance, this is NOT the Hoia-Bacui Forest. This is my daughter’s bedroom.

This is a very special edition of Destination Weirdsville. I’m going to take you on a trip. We’re going to Romania. Unfortunately I can’t fit all of you in my luggage so you’ll have to fight to the death gladiator style to see who gets to be smuggled into the country.

Okay, truth is, I probably can’t even fit one of you into my nonexistent luggage, so why don’t I just tell you about Romania instead. Does that sound good? Well, you don’t really get a choice. I’m not Bill Gates so I can’t afford to fly you all to Romania and give you a tour. Stop being so greedy!

Anyway, back to business. There is a place in western Romania know as the Hoia-Bacui Forest. This may, in fact, be the strangest place in all of Romania. Some even call it “The Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania.”

The forest is home to many strange happenings, causing the locals to avoid the place as much as possible, especially at night. They venture in occasionally to chop wood and other such nonsense. Do they really need to keep warm that badly? I highly doubt it. Fools, the lot of ’em.

Some of the most well known occurrences are feelings of being watched, hearing unnatural noises, unexplainable states of nausea and/or anxiety, headaches, and occasionally burns on the skin. These biological anomalies are often attributed to ghosts which are said to inhabit the forest. Some say it’s the spirits of villagers who were long ago murdered there. Others attribute the activity to something darker, the Devil himself. Some believe this place to be his, uh, let’s call it vacation home.

One of the most interesting things about the forest is a circular clearing, known strangely enough as “the circle.” How very imaginative and original, right? Some people say nothing grows in the circle, but that isn’t exactly true. Grass and weeds and such grow just fine there, there just aren’t any trees. According to reports, the circle is basically the epicenter of all activity in the forest. This is where the ghosts, or whatever the shadows that follow travelers through the forest are, are said to live. The circle is their home and where one is most likely to experience the paranormal activity that abounds in the forest.

Okay, so what do we have so far? A haunted forest where people who enter regularly report strange occurrences and the locals are afraid of. Sounds fairly common in terms of paranormal doesn’t it? Yeah I thought so too, but there’s another type of activity I haven’t mentioned yet.

Lights in the sky over the forest are seen pretty regularly. I’m not talking about airplane lights, either. I’m talking UFO’s, as in aliens, not secret government projects. Everyone knows there is no such thing as a secret government project. I was told I had to say that by the gentlemen who visited me. Happy, guys? I told the readers what they needed to hear. Oh, aliens aren’t real either and Area 51 is nothing more than a bakery to supply all branches of the U.S. military with delicious, freshly baked pastries. Can I go back to my post now, guys?

Okay, now that my friends in the black suits are gone, let’s recap. We have a haunted forest surrounded by aliens. Now that sounds like a pretty awesome location, a place where real fairytales are born. Not those stories that have been toned down for two years olds, the ones lining my daughter’s bookshelf.

What are your thoughts on the stories behind this place? Is there any credence to them or are they just that, stories? And more importantly, would you venture into the depths of the forest?

Destination Weirdsville: Go ahead- spin the Wheel of Mystery (patent pending)

Welcome to Destination Weirdsville. I’m your host, Pedro McDoogal. Why don’t we see what’s on the agenda for today, folks?

Anyone care to spin the Wheel of Mystery (patent pending) for me? Anyone at all? I’m waiting for a volunteer here. Nobody wants to spin the wheel? You people don’t make very good game show contestants, ya know? Making the host spin the wheel himself is bush league- very bush league. I’m a bit disappointed by your apparent lack of interest. If I were giving prizes away, I would be offended. Consider yourselves lucky that prizes aren’t in the budget.

Okay, here we go. Spinning the wheel.

And there it goes.

Spinning.

Still spinning.

Still, still spinning.

I think I used too much grease on the bearings. This bad boy doesn’t seem to be stopping. How about I just grab it to stop it so we can get this show on the road?

Okay, here we go. The wheel has stopped on… no I don’t like that one. We’ll move the wheel to the left just a bit. Ah, that’s better. Today’s topic is Ringing Rocks Park in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

After this brief commercial break we’ll be discussing it at length. Feel free to hit the head or grab a sammich in my absence.

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And welcome back to the show, friends. I’m Ryan Farfignoogin and I love pickles and long walks aboard haunted ships. As I mentioned before the break, we’ll be discussing Ringing Rocks Park today.

The park lies deep in the woods of Bucks County Pennsylvania, near the New Jersey border. The 128 acre park is home to a field of mysterious boulders.

You’re probably thinking “Wow! A field of boulders! I’m so excited I can barely contain myself!” right about now. Of course you’re being sarcastic and I really don’t appreciate that. I’m trying to drop a knowledge bomb and you’ve got to act like a high school kid. How very mature of you.

Anyway, these aren’t just any ordinary boulders. These are special, magic boulders with healing powers. Okay, I’m lying. I made that part up.

The truth of the matter is that these boulders, when struck with a hammer, sound like bells- hollow, metal bells. But they’re neither hollow nor metal. They’re rocks. More accurately, they’ve been determined to be made of a volcanic substance called diabase, which in no way accounts for the weird ringing.

Not only are the rocks themselves peculiar, the location of the field is also classified as origin unknown. The field is on the side of a hill, rather than at the bottom, where it would be if it were caused by avalanche or glacial activity.

What we’re left with is rocks that ring like bells, but shouldn’t, in an illogical location. Weird enough for you?

I think this says it all!

That’s all the time we have for today. Special thanks to today’s sponsor, Isodovilaklavocarikumalin.

I’m Ollie Hinterburg and your guess is as good as mind.

Dipping my toes in the stream

I’ve been thinking for awhile about what to do with my blog. Currently it has no direction and I’m not really cool with that. I’m a go with the flow kind of guy, but I’m not sure my blog should follow the poor example I set for it.

I’m going to try a little experiment and designate Wednesdays as Weird and Wacky Wednesdays. The plan is to explore a new topic every week. Cryptids, unusual places, odd news stories, tales of the paranormal. If it’s weird or wacky, it fits the bill.

If you’ve got any suggestions on topics you’d like me to dive into, feel free to drop a comment below and let me know.

The rest of the week will be as random as always, I may post every day, I may only post for Friday Fictioneers. I figure I should wade into a blog schedule one step at a time. No point in rushing into anything and burning myself out. And what better way to start wading in than with something fun and lighthearted like Weird and Wacky Wednesdays?

Keep your eyes peeled on Wednesday for the first of hopefully many explorations into the weird world we live in.

You may now return to whatever it was that my very important blog post has pulled you away from.