Don has been a researcher for as much as six decades. He has honed his skills as a tracker and a hunter, a survivalist, and an observer of nature and its habits and quirks. These skills have kept him alive and able to continue his hungry thirst for knowledge about the world and how it works. Upon occasion, those well-honed instincts get his spidey senses active. "The Roofer" is one such case.
In the past few months, Don had some interesting incidents happen as his cabins in the Northwest in a remote and obscure area.
These occurrences with the ropes seemed to be isolated, but in retrospect now, he suspects part of something more than just a knotting prankster. (You can find the rope incidents in "The Roper" LINK)
Don came home from one his treks into the wilderness and found his coil of rope he keeps on his compound for towing, piled up at his front door.
He lifted the rope, looked around the barren space around his complex and put it back where it belonged on the property.
He went inside and made himself at home, unpacking and getting situated, but something felt off, not quite right. His senses were always keenly engaged in the wilderness, but in his own home it was unusual for them to be on hyperalert.
Resting in his bed, Don was aware of the cabin like never before. Something was definitely wrong feeling, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Normally his haven was a comfortable retreat from time in the woods, but this time he felt strangely not alone....
Another night later, he rested in bed feeling certain something was off. He flopped over, trying to give into sleep, but feel a bit vulnerable somehow. Then, he heard a shuffling on the roof. It sounded kind of heavy for a critter. He waited, but it stopped.
The next day, Don decided to stop working on the inside of the cabin and get to the outside of it. He hadn't planned to make a trip, but a friend was in an accident and he wanted to help him out on his recovery. While the weather was good in the summertime, he figured he'd get the place secure for the long hard winter ahead.
He came around the building to where he kept a 16-foot tall ladder against it to be ready for any weather situation in the changeable climate of the Northwest. He had put a rolled up tent at the base of the ladder and a shovel across the top of that to protect from any kind of intruder deciding to use it, as it would make a racket.
He stopped short when he realized the shovel had been tossed aside some distance and the tent had been squashed as someone put their weight on it to get up the ladder.
Don shimmied up the ladder and got onto the roof. He kept another 12-foot ladder up there that led to another roof top of his congregation of cabins. That ladder had remained upright for many years, as he had not been up there to do any work. But, this day it was laying down and some shingles were broken.
Frowning at this odd sight, he propped the ladder up and climbed to where there was an 8 foot by 3 foot tall crawlspace. When he looked inside to see if someone had been in there, he saw an object.
Don pulled out a completely mud-caked flashlight. He saw nothing else, so he climbed back down, leaving the ladder up where it belonged.
He climbed down the other ladder and took the object into the kitchen to clean off the caked mud. What he found surprised him. It was a gold-shiny flashlight that looked pretty new. He clicked it on and the light shined. He opened the battery case and the batteries looked new.
Don called to talk to me about this situation. I pondered the context and the events.
"So the rope was leaned against your door when you returned home?"
"I'm thinking about this, Don...You left the rope out twice before leaving and each time they returned it knotted up. The last time you left, you didn't leave the rope out. Maybe whoever it is was reminding you that when you go you're supposed to leave the rope out for them to see that you're leaving, like an early warning kind of."
"Hmmm... Could be! I'll leave the rope out again when I am going to leave and see."
"And the flashlight was caked in mud. That is baffling. One would have to pull the flashlight out of a puddle or muddy ground and carry up to the crawlspace up two ladders to leave it in the crawlspace, but the light wasn't used."
"How do you know that?"
"If you had to clean it off in order to use the switch and turn it on, they obviously didn't use it. They may not even understand what it's used for, they just collected something interesting and hoarded it away. The had it in a dark place and never used it or cleaned it off to use it."
Don considered my insights. We discussed the origins of this "feral" person and where they might be staying in a cave not far away. I suggested he leave the flashlight in their "home" out in the woods. He agreed.
**I will report any ongoing outcomes**