Scariest Moment in the Woods?

[old creek]

nothing to compare to some of these tales and not really terribly scary but this is what comes to mind.
about 4 years ago while waiting for my ride to pick me up on a trail head I had a chance to talk to one of the maintenance crew and one of his first questions was how many bears I had seen, I answered that I had seen lots of sign but no bears. he was surprised and told me that the bears there had became so bold that he couldn't run them off anymore and that he always carried his sidearm in that area now. fast forward to this past December, I was running late getting started so I just threw my junk in the truck and headed out figuring I would eat a little something at the trail head. from the parking to the trail head is about 100 yards with a bridge in between, I grab my pack and figuring to have breakfast on the bridge. I made it to the bridge and with my water bottle on a piling I am opening a pack of breakfast biscuits when I feel I am being watched, I look around and probably 50-70 yards away is a good sized adult black bear in a stance I have never seen before or since. it was in a shallow ditch and had its head lowered, neck stretched out like a bird dog on point and appeared to be a lot more interested in me than I was comfortable with. I stood still for about a minute feeling sure once it realized it was spotted that it would bale but it never flinched. I threw my hands up over my head and in my best Marine drill instructor voice yelled get out of here bear !!! it took off off like a shot, which was great except for the fact that the SOB took off right down the trail I was using. I believed then that that bear was trying to decide if I was food worthy or not, the posture was that of a stalking animal not a cautious animal in my mind so I walked the next four miles yelping, hollering and whistling pausing now and again to listen to see if I could hear it flanking.

not much of a story but I sicerely hope I can never top it.

creek

[rustyshack11]

Would have to be when I woke up and didn't see my dog anywhere. Only to find her directly beneath my hammock.

[frogpockets]

HAD A VERY LARGE NOSE SNIFF ME FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HAMMOCK.I TURNED ON MY I POD AND BLASTED OUT SOME JANES ADDICTION .IT RAN OFF.MUST HAVE HAD SENSITIVE EARS .

[Silverpalm2x]

Beginning of this week camping at Bandits Roost with daughter walked to bathroom at Two am. Got back in hammock and something made a high pitched screaming call. It was way louder than frogs and other night critters. I asked her the next day if she heard & she said no. Thank goodness it scared me though

[g2outdoors]

The first time I went hammock camping in the Rocky Mountains, all I could think about was being a bear taco.

You know you've all thought about it and been a little scared!

[EndOfRope]

Scariest moment in the woods... Well it was wintertime.. I was about 13 and wearing a skidoo suit. I had to use facilities which involved squatting. Unzipped skidoo suit.. squatted ... did my business.. felt like a man.
Pulled up skidoo suit zipped up front and pulled the hood back up over my head.
Felt something bounce off the back my head.
This has never happened since.

[Hobopelican]

On one of my first backpacking trips out west (this was pre-hammock times), I set my tent up in an area enclosed by scrub one evening. This was south of the Grand Canyon and in a pretty open area with loads of rocks and low scrub. Quite a beautiful spot to my way of thinking. Anyway, after a quick meal, I settled down in the tent and fell asleep without issue. Later that night, I woke to the one of the eeriest sounds I've heard. Sounded like a banshee playing a didgeridoo. I just laid there for a bit, not sure what to make of it, and then it came again, sounding like it was right outside the tarp. Eventually, I got the nerve to get out of the tent and look around....nothing there. Of course, when I went back inside, it started up again. This time I heard nearby clumping sounds, so I figured with was some hoofed critter and I finally got to sleep. When I got back to town, my brother-in-law informed me that it was just, as many of you have figured out, an elk. Now when I'm up there I look forward to those odd cries, but, lordy, that first night, all by my lonesome in the middle of nowhere, I can honestly say I felt a little bit fearful!

For those who've never heard this sound, sit back, close your eyes, imagine being miles from civilization in he dark night and check this out.

[Caconym]

Lol, that elk-call just sent my lap-cat into full attack-mode.

Rjc149: you win. That is seriously terrifying. I solo, and though I'm a guy, I'm a weedy suburbanite with few misconceptions about my sheltered upbringing.
If you have a strong constitution you can read about Ivan Milat, whose stomping grounds were only 160km Km from where I live (that's nothing in Australian distances).
Why I try to stealth camp.
Also why Balangolo State forest is way down on my list of places to hike.

I walked with a guy once, and asked him for campfire stories. He told me about walking with a group and stopping for lunch. At some point they noticed they were being watched by a Panther-like black cat. Ran off when one of them reached for a camera. Big cats in Australia are non-extant according to officials, bunkum according to the general population, and scary as hell according to those who walk or live in their territory.

A lot of folks on here have talked about that "being watched" feeling. Something I've noticed is that the Australian bush can have a seriously unnerving presence. A real feeling, not like hostility, because hostility implies that you're being paid attention to. More like a general feeling of unwelcomeness. I call it bush-terrors, and it can come and go with as little as a hundred metres of distance.

I took my little brother on an overnighter a few years ago. We were hiking through bush in Namadgi NP to the old Orroral tracking station site to be picked up the next day. Towards the end he was getting tired and kept asking if we could camp here, or here. I kept pushing him on. I wasn't going to tell him that the thought of camping where we were gave me the screaming heebie-jeebies.
We got to the old tracking station site; just concrete foundations and a composting toilet. It's in a long, open grassland valley bordered by two lines of tall, wooded hills. The non-native trees at the site made all the difference, and my heckles finally went down.
Settling down to sleep, me in my hammock and my brother in a loaned tent. The stars are out, the air is warm. Then a howl carries through the air. I place it as probably coming from one of the ridges. A couple of Km away. Man that howl carried. My brother asks "what the **** was that?"
I tell him just a dingo and not to worry. I don't tell him that there are probably no pure dingos anywhere nearby, and the wild-dog-dingo mixes are supposed to be a lot less concerned about harassing people (and livestock).
I didn't get much sleep that night.

[Miggles]

Yay! My first real post! Hopefully y'all find my story entertaining.

She got home, unpacked her things, had a long-awaited shower and a hot meal. It had been a great time, and she remembered why she loved going solo. She followed her own schedule, unaccountable to anyone but herself. Solo is the only way to go, she thought to herself. It was just her and nature. But this time, there was something else.

When she developed the film on her disposable camera, there were several photos of her sleeping inside the tent.

Needless to say, that was the last solo trip she even took.

That's a big can of NOPE! right there. It also reminds me of the one and only time I attended summer camp.
As part of the camp experience, a group of counsellors would take the oldest cabin groups out for an overnight backpack trip sans shelters. The boys had gone the day before, so when we saw the signs for "Upper Lake" pointed downhill and "Lower Lake" pointed uphill, we assumed they were messing with us and headed uphill to our intended destination of "Upper Lake". After an hour longer hiking than expected, and having to set up a campsite that was usually "less rugged" (as the counsellors put it), we all climbed in our sacks and tried to sleep despite the insane amount of mosquitos at what turned out to, in fact, "Lower Lake". (In retrospect, those completely inexperienced 18 year old counsellors had zero business taking us out there, but c'est la vie)
Sometime during the night myself and another girl both jolted awake. A few seconds later we heard rustling, followed by twigs snapping. Being the battle-hardened age of 12, we naturally started freaking out. The rest of the girls and the counsellors were awake in a flash and a flashlight started sweeping the area. After a brief pass-over, it snapped back to something bright yellow not even 30' away, namely: the bright yellow jacket of the most mountainy mountain man I had ever seen. Wild hair, covered in dirt, shocked look on his face... Actually, after adding some miles to my boots, I now realize he was probably just a startled backpacker... Wandering around in the middle of the night... Yeah... Nope.... Still creepy as all get out.
The moral I took away from all that is: people are probably going to be the scariest critter you encounter and the further out you are, the further away you are from law-abiding help. So I will always have my dog with me on my "solos".

He also keeps me from looking totally bonkers while I talk to myself, which happen quite frequently.

[Freakin Farmer]

15 yrs ago I was tent camping North of Medora, ND in TR National Park. One morning I felt the stomping of the herd (wild bison) around the area. I went to unzip the tent and not 2 feet from me was the HUGE head of a bull staring back at me. I SLOWLY zipped back up and sat motionless for what seemed like hours until I heard him walk away. I sat there shaking like a wet dog for a good few minutes. I posed no threat so I wasn't too worried, but the size of those glorious creatures are intimidating.
A week later a lady was trampled to death on a trail not far from where I was camped.