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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7 responses to “Destination Weirdsville: The Bilgers Rocks Incident

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