"I don't know what the deal is, but I honestly hope I never find another hole like that in the woods because I'll either die from anxiety or become so obsessed with it that I go insane."
I received the following account:
"Hi. Years ago, I used to canvass for a roofing company out in Sherwood, Oregon regularly. There is a wooded area next to Inkster Drive that I would often dip into to relieve myself or smoke some weed while out in the field. Usually, I would go in just far enough to be concealed by the bush so that homeowners and passersby didn't see me, but one day I decided to walk along the path a little deeper in. The area is tiny and situated in the dead center of neighborhoods, so it's not remote or anything like that, so I didn't expect much.
As I made my way to about the center of the area, I found a small clearing with a perfectly square hole dug out about 3 feet into the ground. Not quite big enough for an adult to lay down in, but maybe a child could comfortably fit; so I assumed it was from the local kids playing military or something in the woods (something I enjoyed doing myself). I took a leak and smoked a cigarette in the clearing, and as I was finishing my smoke, I got that unexplainable "GTFOH" feeling and began scanning my surroundings. I am no stranger to hiking and camping in the wilderness, and I have felt the predator sense several times, but this was different. I found myself practically running out of there and didn't even want to knock along the road that bordered these woods.
About two weeks later, I'm canvassing out in Beaverton near Hyland Forest Park, which split between the two neighborhoods I was knocking, so I decided to cut through and enjoy a quick nature break. I followed the main trail a ways and spotted a beaten path that looked like it looped back to the trail, and I felt the incessant need to walk down it, so I did. Instead of looping to the trail, it led to another clearing similar in size, completely shrouded in brush from the trail, with another square hole damn near identical in size to the one I saw in Sherwood. This time, I didn't feel the nope factor as hard; well, I did, but I chalked it up to my brain overthinking it and spiking my anxiety. I left the park and went around to get back to the car when I was done.
The third instance happened about a month later in the middle of summer. We were canvassing the Beaverton Hills near Skyline and, during our lunch break, we decided to pull off in the shade near an access to Forest Park. The rest of the van wanted to stay in the car, but I naturally wanted to explore, so I set off onto the trail. Not even 200 feet in, I started to feel uneasy and paranoid, so I went back to the car and asked again if anyone wanted to tag along. Nobody did, so I grabbed my pistol from my backpack. I went along the trail until it came to a super steep decline that seemed to cut through an old fence line. I moved down the hill, and it began to level out a bit as it curved around the bend. Just around the corner, there was a side path that looked fairly used and led down into a fern gully. Figuring I wasn't going to head that much farther on the main path, I took a detour and began to explore the side path for a bit until it sort of ended in the field of ferns at the base of the hill. I mingled for a bit and took in the fresh air.
As I started to head back towards the main path, the "GTFOH" feeling crept on me, and just off the path I was walking on, I saw yet another identical square hole, slightly overgrown but discernible, and at that moment I felt the most intense sense of dread and heebie jeebies I think I've ever felt short of a panic attack.
By this instance, I was well fixated on the topic and noticed the recurring patterns: the feelings, the environment, the holes. Everything about it seemed odd, and with how quickly these happenings occurred, it was hard not to draw connections. I tried to research and find anything I could relating to "holes in the woods," but never found anything similar to what I experienced. The closest explanation I could realistically find is the cynical hypothesis that foul play is somehow involved - not uncommon or unsuspecting in Oregon.
I quit adventuring in these types of areas and, a couple of months later, I left that job, so I don't spend time in those areas anymore. But I never experienced anything like it again in any of the other wooded areas I like to explore. I experienced the predator sense just this last weekend after realizing the campsite we were in clearly had a bear romping around, but I haven't felt that overwhelming dark feeling since that last hole encounter. I don't know what the deal is, but I honestly hope I never find another hole like that in the woods because I'll either die from anxiety or become so obsessed with it that I go insane. Just writing this makes me obsessive about it again, and I haven't thought about this in at least 8 months. I do have a picture of the first hole (below)." P
NOTE: Very creepy account. Can anyone provide any information or context to these sightings? Lon
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