SKINWALKER RANCH: Utah’s Infamous Paranormal Portal Where Science Meets the Supernatural
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My dad worked in the mines of Kentucky in the steel mill in Gary. Through him, I learned what hard, dangerous work was and saw that workers like him need a voice when tragic things happen. That's why I focus my law practice on helping hardworking people get justice. Like Mike, whose hand was mangled at work because of a dangerously defective machine. We fight every day to protect the rights of accidentally injured people. In fact, it's all we do. I guess you can say it's in our DNA.

I get asked all the time why we only represent people who've been accidentally injured or had loved ones die tragically. And I tell them about my father, who worked in the mines of Kentucky, then came to Gary to work in the steel mill. Through him, I learned what hard work was, what dangerous work was, and saw that workers like him needed a voice when bad things happen. I know what I do every day would make my dad proud.

My dad worked in the mines of Kentucky in the steel mill in Gary. Through him I learned what hard, dangerous work was and saw that workers like him need a voice when tragic things happen. That's why I focus my law practice on helping hardworking people get justice. Like Mike, whose hand was mangled at work because of a dangerously defective machine. We fight every day to protect the rights of accidentally injured people. In fact, it's all we do. I guess you can say it's in our DNA.

"You're all idiots if you think I'm scared of some stupid ranch," I told my buddies Jake and Marcus as we sat around the campfire near Bollard, Utah. We'd driven up from Salt Lake City for a weekend of camping and somehow the conversation had turned to Skinwalker Ranch, that infamous 512-acre property that had been making headlines for decades with reports of UFOs, cattle mutilations and shape-shifting creatures.

Jake had been reading about it on his phone, rattling off stories about families fleeing in terror and government investigations that cost millions of dollars. Marcus kept insisting the whole thing was just an elaborate hoax designed to sell books and TV shows. I found myself getting more and more annoyed with their back and forth debate. That's when Marcus brought up something I'd never heard before, something local to the area that didn't make it into the documentaries or research papers.

He'd been talking to some guys at the gas station in Roosevelt earlier that day and they'd mentioned something called a "coyote nap." According to Marcus, the tradition went back at least three generations in the basin, long before Skinwalker Ranch made national headlines. The story centered around a kid named Eli Markham, a cocky ranch-hand's son who vanished in 1978.

His friends said he was just gonna catch a little shut-eye out by the coyote dens. A joke. A dare. Something dumb teenagers did to prove they weren't scared of the land. But Eli had picked the worst possible spot for his stunt.

He'd camped on the north side of what would later become famous as Skinwalker Ranch, close to what old-timers called the "breathing ground," a place where the dirt sometimes pulsed like it was alive and electronics refused to work. Eli went in with a bedroll, a .30-06, and a half-pack of smokes. He never came out. All they found was his sleeping bag, shredded from the inside.

After that, the coyote nap became a twisted rite of passage for local teens. The challenge was simple: sneak past the gate, make it to the center of Skinwalker Ranch and sleep alone beneath the stars with no tent, no phone, no flashlight, just provisions, a rifle, and the resolve to stay put until sunrise. But there was one crucial rule that made the whole thing even more terrifying: you couldn't leave the sleeping bag once you laid down.

"You had to commit." Locals said moving before dawn broke the pact, and once the pact was broken, they could touch you. Some claimed the dare was named after the trickster spirit, Coyote, the shapeshifter who lured people into making stupid choices with the illusion of bravado. Others said it was more literal. People who attempted the Coyote nap often heard coyotes circling, howling at unnatural hours, whispering in broken English.

Marcus explained that those who had tried it and survived said it wasn't the coyotes you had to worry about, it was what walked with them. Some reported the howling stopped all at once around 3:30 a.m. Others claimed something climbed inside the bag with them. A few said you never slept again. Not really, because something else was using your dreams to find its way back.

The whole thing sounded like typical small-town nonsense to me, but Jake was eating it up. He suggested I take the coyote nap challenge myself, saying it would prove once and for all whether I was just talk or if I actually had the guts to back up my skepticism. Marcus immediately jumped on the idea, adding that completing a real coyote nap would make me a legend among the locals. I laughed, told him it would be the easiest money I'd ever made,

The bet was simple: $500 if I could last until sunrise on the ranch following the traditional coyote nap rules. Jake and Marcus seemed convinced I'd come running back within hours, spooked by shadows and my own imagination. We shook hands on it and I spent the rest of the evening researching both the ranch and the local legend online. Most of what I found about Eli Markham came from old newspaper archives and local forums.

but the details were consistent enough to suggest the story was based on real events. The rational part of my brain dismissed it all as urban legends that had grown more elaborate with each retelling. The next evening, we drove out to the ranch as the sun was setting behind the western ridge. The landscape looked perfectly ordinary, rolling hills covered in sagebrush, a few scattered cottonwood trees, and the kind of wide-open spaces that made Utah famous.

We parked the Jeep about a quarter mile from the property line, hidden behind a small hill where it wouldn't be visible from the ranch buildings. I shouldered my backpack, which contained three water bottles, half a dozen energy bars and my sleeping bag, the same kind of basic gear that Eli Markham had supposedly carried on his final night. My .30-06 rifle felt reassuringly solid in my hands as I checked the bolt action one final time.

Jake reminded me about the coyote nap rules, emphasizing that once I was in the sleeping bag, I couldn't leave it until dawn. Marcus just laughed and said he'd have my money counted and ready for pickup in the morning. The barbed wire fence marking the ranch boundary was old and slack in places, making it easy to slip through without getting tangled.

As I walked across the pasture toward what I'd identified online as the middle homestead, I felt a slight unease that I attributed to simply trespassing nerves. The property was larger than it looked from the road, and it took me nearly 20 minutes to reach the cluster of cottonwood trees where I'd decided to set up camp. I chose a spot that gave me good visibility in all directions while providing some cover from the trees.

According to the coyote nap tradition, I needed to be as close to the center of the ranch as possible, which put me roughly in the area where the most supernatural activity had been reported over the years. My sleeping bag went down on a patch of relatively flat ground, and I positioned myself so I could observe both the ranch buildings in the distance and the open pasture around me. The first few hours passed uneventfully.

I ate an energy bar and drank some water while watching the stars emerge in the clear desert sky. A barn owl called from somewhere nearby and I could hear the distant lowing of cattle from a neighboring ranch. Everything felt completely normal and I found myself relaxing as the evening wore on. Around 11 o'clock I started feeling drowsy. The adrenaline from trespassing had worn off and the peaceful night sounds were actually quite soothing.

I pulled out my phone to text Jake and Marcus about how boring their supposedly haunted ranch was turning out to be, but discovered I had no cell signal. That wasn't surprising given our remote location, but it meant I couldn't gloat about my easy victory until morning. I actually chuckled, thinking, well, maybe I'm not supposed to have technology during a coyote nap either. Following the coyote nap rules, I climbed into my sleeping bag and positioned my rifle within easy reach.

The tradition required that I stay in the bag until dawn, no matter what happened. I figured I could doze lightly while still staying alert for any real threats, like security guards or angry property owners. That's when everything changed. I was just starting to drift off when I heard voices having a conversation somewhere above my head.

My eyes snapped open immediately and I found myself listening to what sounded like two or three men speaking in a language I couldn't identify. The words were completely unintelligible, but the tone was unmistakably mocking and hostile, as if they were discussing me in less than flattering terms. The voices seemed to be coming from about 20 feet up in the air, directly over my position.

I looked up through the tree branches but could see nothing except stars and darkness. The conversation continued for several minutes with occasional bursts of what sounded like laughter. My skin began to crawl as I realized this matched exactly one of the phenomena reported by the Sherman family in the 1990s. I wanted to sit up and call out to ask who was there, but the coyote nap rules were clear: I couldn't leave the sleeping bag.

The voices immediately fell silent, but I could feel something watching me from the darkness. The sensation was so strong it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Then I heard the first howl.

It started as a single coyote somewhere to the north, but within minutes it had become a chorus of voices surrounding my position. The howling didn't sound quite right. There were too many animals, and their calls had an almost musical quality that natural coyotes never produced. Worse, as I listened more carefully, I could swear I heard fragments of human speech mixed in with the animal sounds.

The howling continued for nearly an hour, growing closer and more intense as time passed. I clutched my rifle inside the sleeping bag, trying to convince myself that this was just unusual coyote behavior triggered by my presence on their territory. But deep down, I knew this was exactly what the coyote nap stories had described. Around 1 a.m., I noticed the light.

At first, it was just a dim orange glow appearing through the trees to my east, barely visible through the branches. I thought it might be headlights from a distant vehicle, but as I watched, the light grew steadily brighter and began to take on an unusual quality. It wasn't reflecting off anything or casting shadows the way normal light should. Instead, it seemed to be generating itself, hanging in the air without any visible source.

As the glow intensified, I could see that it was roughly circular and positioned about 50 feet away, hovering perhaps 10 feet off the ground. The color shifted from orange to a brilliant golden yellow, and the edges began to take on a more defined shape. What I was seeing looked less like a light and more like some kind of doorway or portal, exactly as witnesses had described in their reports.

The howling stopped abruptly at 3:30 a.m., just as the local stories had predicted. The sudden silence was somehow more terrifying than the noise had been, because it meant whatever came next was about to begin. I stayed frozen in my sleeping bag, remembering the rule about not moving until dawn, but every instinct I had was screaming at me to run. That's when I saw something moving inside the light.

A large, dark shape was struggling against the edges of the portal, as if trying to push through somewhere else. The shape was roughly humanoid but much larger than any person, with what appeared to be massive shoulders and arms. As I watched in growing horror, the thing began to break free from whatever constraint was holding it back. With a sound like tearing fabric, the creature pushed through the portal and dropped heavily to the ground.

The impact shook the earth beneath my sleeping bag, and I heard branches snapping as the thing landed in the brush. The portal immediately snapped shut, leaving me in near total darkness with whatever had just emerged. I couldn't see the creature clearly, but I could hear it moving through the undergrowth with surprising stealth for something so large. Branches rustled softly as it began to circle my position, staying just out of sight but making it clear that it knew exactly where I was.

The coyote nap rules echoed in my mind. Don't leave the sleeping bag. Don't break the pact, or they can touch you. But as the thing got closer, I began to understand why Eli Markham's sleeping bag had been found shredded from the inside. The creature wasn't bound by the same rules that protected me as long as I stayed in the bag. It could come to me. I felt the sleeping bag shift slightly as something large settled down beside me.

The fabric began to bulge inward, as if massive hands were pressing against it from the outside. Then I heard breathing. Deep, raspy inhalations that didn't sound like they came from any earthly throat. The temperature inside the bag dropped suddenly and I could see my breath forming clouds in the frigid air. Something was definitely inside the sleeping bag with me now, though I couldn't see what it was in the darkness.

I felt cold pressure against my back as if something large was spooning up against me. That's when it started whispering. The voice was right next to my ear, speaking in that same unintelligible language I'd heard from above the trees. But now the words were accompanied by fetid breath that smelled like rotting meat and ancient earth. I could feel cold lips brushing against my neck as the thing spoke, and my skin crawled at the intimate contact.

I gripped my rifle tighter, but I knew from the stories that bullets wouldn't help. Besides, whatever was with me in the sleeping bag seemed more interested in psychological torment than physical violence. It continued whispering for what felt like hours, occasionally punctuating its monologue with low chuckles that vibrated to my entire body. Around 4 a.m., I felt something else join us in the sleeping bag.

Then another. The fabric stretched to accommodate multiple presences, and I found myself surrounded by invisible entities that pressed against me from all sides. They took turns whispering into my ears, their voices overlapping until the words became a meaningless babble of malevolent sound. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on staying conscious until dawn.

The Coyote Nap stories had warned that some people never really slept again after their experience, because something else would use their dreams to find its way back. I was beginning to understand what that meant.

As the eastern horizon began to show the first pale hints of dawn, the entities in my sleeping bag became more agitated. Their whispers grew louder and more urgent, and I could feel claws or fingers raking across my back through the fabric. But they seemed to be running out of time. The moment the sun's first ray touched the cottonwood trees, everything stopped. The weight lifted from the sleeping bag.

The whispers ceased, and the oppressive cold disappeared as if it had never existed. I was alone again, but I could feel the deep scratches across my shoulders where invisible claws had torn through my jacket. I waited another ten minutes to be absolutely sure it was over before carefully emerging from the sleeping bag. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely pack my gear, and the rifle felt impossibly heavy as I shouldered it for the walk back to the fence line.

The property looked completely normal in the early morning light, giving no hint of the supernatural forces that had tormented me through the night. But as I walked across the pasture, I noticed something that made my blood run cold. There were tracks in the soft earth around my campsite. Not human footprints, but the paw prints of multiple large animals that had circled my position throughout the night.

The tracks were too big to belong to normal coyotes, and they showed claw marks that extended far beyond what any natural animal could produce. Mixed in with the animal tracks were other impressions that looked almost human but were far too large and showed the wrong number of toes. I reached the fence line just as Jake and Marcus were climbing out of the Jeep with thermoses of coffee and big grins on their faces.

They'd expected to find me long gone, having broken the coyote nap rules and fled in terror during the night. Instead, they found someone who had followed the tradition to the letter and survived to tell about it. But their congratulations died when they got a good look at me in the morning light. My jacket was hanging in shreds, exposing deep scratches across my shoulders and back that were still bleeding.

Dark bruises had formed on my arms in patterns that looked like handprints, and my face was pale and drawn from a night without sleep. Jake asked what had happened to me, but I found it difficult to put the experience into words. How do you explain that you've spent eight hours sharing a sleeping bag with invisible entities that exist outside normal reality?

"How do you describe the feeling of cold breath on your neck and claws raking across your skin from something that can't be seen or photographed?" Before I could begin to answer, Marcus pointed behind me and said we needed to leave immediately. I turned to see headlights approaching fast across the ranch, moving much faster than any normal ranch vehicle should be able to travel over that rough terrain.

As the lights got closer, I could make out the outline of what appeared to be a military-style truck — exactly the kind of vehicle that conspiracy theorists claimed was used to patrol the ranch.

Whether it was connected to the supernatural phenomena or just regular security responding to reports of a trespasser, I didn't want to find out. We jumped in the Jeep and tore down the dirt road leading away from the ranch, kicking up clouds of dust as Jake pushed the engine to its limits. The pursuing vehicle was gaining ground despite our head start, its more powerful engine easily keeping pace with our frantic escape.

We hit the curves leading down to the main road doing at least 60 miles per hour with Jake fighting to keep control as we skidded around the tight turns. I kept looking back to see the military vehicle's headlights getting closer and I was convinced we were about to be caught by whoever was driving that thing. But the moment our tires touched the asphalt of US 40, something extraordinary happened. I looked back to see the pursuing vehicle simply vanish, as if it had never existed.

One second it was there, bearing down on us with obvious hostile intent, and the next second there was nothing but empty road and darkness behind us. We drove in stunned silence for nearly an hour before Jake finally pulled into a truck stop in Vernal. The fluorescent lights at the diner felt like a return to civilization after my encounter with whatever forces controlled Skinwalker Ranch.

We ordered cheeseburgers and coffee while the waitress helped me clean and bandage the scratches on my neck and back. The cuts were deep enough to require proper medical attention, but they were clean and straight, as if made by surgical instruments rather than animal claws. The bruises on my arms darkened into perfect handprint shapes, showing four finger marks and a thumbprint on each arm.

No human hand could have made marks that size, and no animal I knew of had the right configuration of digits to create such patterns. As we sat in that brightly lit diner, surrounded by the comfortable noise of late-night travelers and long-haul truckers, the events at the ranch began to feel like a nightmare I'd imagined. But the physical evidence was undeniable, and my friends had witnessed both my condition and the mysterious pursuit that ended so abruptly.

Finally, Jake brought up the subject of our bet, probably expecting me to pay up for failing to complete the challenge. I told him to keep his money and asked both of them to promise we would never discuss what had happened that night. The experience had shaken something fundamental in my understanding of reality, and I wasn't ready to deal with the implications of what I'd witnessed. We shook hands on that agreement as we finished our meal and prepared for the long drive back to Salt Lake City.

And, true to our word, we never spoke of that night again. But I understood now why no one takes a coyote nap twice. Sometimes when I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I can still hear those whispering voices speaking their unintelligible language somewhere in the darkness. And sometimes, just before I drift off, I can feel cold breath on my neck and the weight of invisible presences settling down beside me in the bed.

The entities from Skinwalker Ranch had found their way into my dreams just as the stories warned they would. I never sleep deeply anymore. Not really. Because something else is always there in the shadows, waiting for me to let my guard down completely. The coyote nap tradition exists for a reason, and now I understand why the locals treat it with such deadly seriousness. Some dares aren't worth taking.

And some traditions are built on genuine terror rather than empty superstition. But at least I can say I completed a real coyote nap and lived to tell about it. Even if I'm not really living anymore, just existing in the space between waking and sleeping where the things from Skinwalker Ranch continue to whisper their secrets in languages that predate human civilization.

Welcome, Weirdos! I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained.

Coming up in this episode: Deep in the Utah wilderness lies a 512-acre ranch where cattle vanish without a trace. Bulletproof wolves roam the land, and portals to other dimensions may actually exist. We step into the dangerously paranormal area of America known as Skinwalker Ranch. So bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness.

In the autumn of 1994, Terry and Gwen Sherman made what they believed would be a simple life change. The experienced cattle rancher purchased a 512-acre property in northeastern Utah's remote Uintah Basin, hoping to raise quality livestock and provide a peaceful life for their teenage son and 10-year-old daughter. The ranch seemed perfect for their needs.

vast pastures, good water access, and the kind of isolation that promised tranquility. What the Shermans discovered instead would transform their quiet ranch into what many now consider the most scientifically studied paranormal hotspot on Earth. Within 18 months, the family would flee their property, selling it for less than they paid after experiencing what they described as "relentless supernatural torment."

The previous owners, Kenneth and Edith Myers, had lived on the property since the 1930s without ever reporting unusual activity. However, when the Shermans arrived, they immediately noticed strange features that should have served as warnings. The main house appeared fortified like a fortress, with heavy deadbolts on both sides of doors, metal bars covering windows, and even locks on kitchen cabinets.

Iron stakes and heavy chains at both ends of the house suggested the previous residents had kept large guard dogs, though no explanation existed for why such extreme security measures were necessary in this remote location. The Shermans initially dismissed these oddities as the eccentricities of an elderly couple. They had no way of knowing. They were about to become unwilling participants in one of the most documented paranormal investigations in modern history.

When Weirdarkness returns, a massive wolf that shrugs off six rifle shots at point-blank range, cattle that vanish mid-step, leaving tracks that end in empty air, and four prize bulls mysteriously teleported into a trailer barely big enough for one,

The Sherman Ranch receives the most intensive paranormal investigation in modern history, where even trained scientists would witness phenomena that defied every law of physics they thought they understood. Hold the kaleidoscope to your eye. Peer inside. One twist changes everything. A woman awakens in a grotesque, human-sized arcade game.

A mysterious cigar box purchased at a farmer's market releases an ancient jinn who demands a replacement prisoner. An elderly woman possesses the terrifying power to inflict pain through handmade dolls. An exclusive restaurant's sinister secret menu includes murder-for-hire and harvested organs.

With each turn through these 20 tales, Reddit NoSleep favorite AP Royal reshapes reality, creating dazzling patterns of horror that entrance as they terrify.

Now, there's a new way to share Weird Darkness with the weirdos in your life. It's a skill on your Amazon Echo device. Just

Just say, play Weird Darkness, and you'll immediately start hearing the newest episode. With your Amazon Echo or smart device, you can let me keep you company all day and all night. And it's easy to tell your friends how to tune in, too. Just tell your Amazon device, play Weird Darkness, to start listening.

Do you like my horror-able humor episodes called Mind of Marler? If so, and you'd like more, it now has its very own podcast. Comedic creeps, sarcastic scares, frivolous frights, macabre madness. Every week I dive into strange history, twisted true crime, and paranormal weirdness. All the stuff you'd expect from me on Weird Darkness, but delivered with dark comedy, satire, and just the right amount of absurdity.

Monsters, myths, mysteries, mirth and more every Monday with Mind of Marlar. I like alliteration, can you tell? You can find a list of where you can subscribe to the podcast at WeirdDarkness.com under the menu tab for podcasts. The first supernatural encounter occurred on the very day the Sherman family moved their belongings onto the property. As they worked to settle into their new home, they spotted an enormous wolf emerging from the pasture.

The creature approached slowly and cautiously, displaying none of the fear typically associated with wild animals encountering humans. What struck the family immediately was the wolf's extraordinary size. Standing next to the two six-foot-tall men present, the beast reached their chests. Its muscular frame, gray fur, and piercing blue eyes created an intimidating presence, yet it behaved with the familiarity of a domestic pet.

The wolf allowed the family members to pet it, even seeming to enjoy the attention as they noticed it smelled like a wet dog from the day's rain. The peaceful encounter shattered without warning when the wolf suddenly bolted toward the cattle corral. It grabbed a curious calf by the snout and attempted to drag the animal through the corral bars. Terry Sherman and his father immediately began beating the wolf with sticks, but their blows had no effect whatsoever.

The creature maintained its grip on the calf as if the man's efforts were nothing more than gentle pats. Terry retrieved his .357 Magnum pistol from his truck and fired at point-blank range. The bullet struck the wolf, but produced no visible reaction. No blood, no sign of pain, no indication the shot had any impact. Terry fired again, with the same result. The wolf released the calf but stood staring at the family as if nothing had happened.

Desperate to stop this threat to his livestock and family, Terry shot the creature two more times with the powerful handgun. The wolf backed away slightly but showed no signs of distress. Terry then retrieved his hunting rifle, a .30-06 caliber weapon capable of bringing down an elk. Even at close range with this superior firepower, the bullets seemed to have minimal effect

One shot reportedly removed a chunk of flesh and hair from the wolf, but the creature remained standing and apparently unharmed. After six shots from two different weapons, the wolf casually trotted across the field toward a muddy thicket. Terry and his father followed the beast's tracks for nearly a mile through the soft ground until the prints simply vanished.

The tracks ended abruptly in an area where the soil was just as soft as where clear prints existed, offering no explanation for their disappearance. The Wolf Incident marked only the beginning of the Sherman family's ordeal. In the spring of 1995, aerial phenomena began appearing over their property with disturbing frequency. The first major sighting occurred when Terry, his son, and his nephew noticed what appeared to be a recreational vehicle parked on their land.

Assuming the driver might need assistance, they approached the object. As they drew closer, the RV moved silently away from them. When they increased their pace, the object suddenly rose 50 feet into the air, revealing its true nature. The craft was shaped like a refrigerator, with a single white light on its front and a red light on its rear. It made no sound as it flew away, disappearing into the night sky. This sighting established a pattern that would torment the family for months.

Strange aircraft appeared regularly over their property, displaying flight characteristics impossible for conventional vehicles. Mrs. Sherman reported an encounter with an object resembling a stealth fighter ringed with blinking lights that hovered silently 20 feet above her vehicle before speeding away. The most commonly observed phenomena were floating spheres of various sizes and colors.

Large orange circles appeared over the property on 12 separate occasions in 1995 and 1996. Terry Sherman claimed that holes occasionally opened in these orange spheres, allowing smaller spheres to emerge and fly away. The sightings were corroborated by a neighboring rancher who described encountering what he called a "flying orange basketball." Even more disturbing were the blue spheres that began appearing with increasing frequency.

These orbs were roughly the size of softballs and appeared to be made of glass filled with bubbling blue liquid that rotated inside. The spheres demonstrated apparent intelligence, maneuvering through tree branches with remarkable speed and dexterity, while seemingly observing the family's activities. The blue spheres proved to be more than mere curiosities. Family members reported experiencing waves of intense, unnatural fear whenever these objects appeared.

a psychological effect that seemed artificially induced rather than a normal reaction to unusual circumstances. The orbs also interfered with electrical systems in the house and produced a faint, crackling sound similar to static electricity. The most tragic encounter with these blue spheres occurred in May 1996. Terry Sherman was outside with three of his dogs when he noticed a blue orb moving through the field near the ranch house.

Curious to see how the dogs would react, he encouraged them to chase the object. The orb seemed to play with the animals, dodging and maneuvering just out of reach of their snapping jaws while leading them away from the house and into thick brush that bordered the field. Terry heard his dogs make three terrible yelps, followed by complete silence. Despite his calls, the animals did not respond.

The next morning, his search revealed three circular areas of dried, brittle vegetation. In the center of each circle lay what Terry described as a black, greasy lump - all that remained of his beloved dogs. This incident convinced the Sherman family that whatever forces were at work on their property posed a genuine threat. The loss of their dogs marked the beginning of their serious consideration of abandoning the ranch they had worked so hard to establish.

The supernatural forces plaguing the ranch soon turned their attention to Terry Sherman's valuable cattle herd. As an experienced rancher with college degrees and advanced training in animal husbandry, Sherman had invested heavily in expensive, top-quality livestock. His herd consisted of 60 to 80 head of prime cattle and four show-class bulls, each worth thousands of dollars. The attacks on his cattle began during the harsh winter of 1994 and 1995.

Following a fierce blizzard, Sherman discovered one of his cows was missing. He found the animal's tracks leading into an open field, but the prints suddenly stopped in the middle of the snow-covered area with no explanation. No predator tracks were visible, and the cow had simply vanished without a trace. This disappearance was the first of five cattle that vanished during that winter alone.

Each case followed the same pattern: clear tracks leading to a point where they abruptly ended, as if the animals had been lifted from the ground. The spring of 1995 brought an even more disturbing development: cattle mutilations. Sherman began finding his animals dead with precise surgical cuts that removed specific body parts.

The mutilations showed characteristics that had been reported across North America for decades: ears, eyes, reproductive organs and udders removed with what appeared to be medical precision, always accompanied by a complete absence of blood at the scene. One particularly unsettling case involved a cow found with a crisp, clean hole cut through one of its eyes, but otherwise completely unharmed.

Another animal was discovered with a six-inch hole carved out of its rectum, extending deep into the body cavity. Yet, no blood was found on the carcass or surrounding ground. A strange chemical smell accompanied these discoveries. Sherman noticed a pattern connecting the mutilations to the aerial phenomena. Yellow lights would appear over his property, often during poor weather conditions, and the following day, he would discover another mutilated animal.

The precision of the cuts and the lack of blood defied explanation through conventional predator activity or known natural causes. One of the most bizarre incidents occurred in April 1996 when Terry and Gwen Sherman made a casual comment that would prove prophetic. While driving past the corral containing their four prize bulls, animals worth thousands of dollars each, Gwen remarked that it would be devastating if anything happened to these valuable animals.

Less than an hour later, the couple returned to find all four bulls had vanished from their locked corral. Frantic searching of the 512-acre property yielded no sign of the massive animals. As a last resort, Terry decided to check a small metal trailer located inside the corral, though it seemed impossible that the bulls could be inside.

To his shock, all four bulls were crammed into the tiny trailer like oversized sardines, pressed against the sides and each other in a space barely large enough for one animal. The trailer door remained securely fastened with wire that showed no signs of tampering, and cobwebs on the inside of the door proved it had not been opened recently.

When Terry called to his wife that he had found the bulls, the animals seemed to wake from a trance-like state and began kicking violently against the trailer walls and each other. The logistics of getting four full-grown bulls into such a confined space through normal means would have been virtually impossible, even if the door had been opened.

Dr. Colm Kelleher, a microbiologist who would later investigate the ranch extensively, noted that coaxing even one bull into such a trailer would be extremely difficult, making the presence of all four animals in this configuration genuinely inexplicable through conventional means. On August 28, 1997, researchers witnessed what may have been the most extraordinary event in the ranch's documented history.

Tom Gorman, Terry Sherman's pseudonym in research reports, and researcher Chad Deidkin were conducting nighttime surveillance when a dull white light appeared in the darkness of the middle homestead around 2:00 a.m. Both men watched as the light grew brighter and began to resemble what they described as a portal or doorway.

Gorman grabbed his night vision binoculars for a better view and reported seeing something that challenged conventional understanding of reality. A large, black humanoid figure appeared to be struggling to crawl through what looked like a tunnel of light. After several minutes, the humanoid figure emerged from the light and disappeared into the darkness. As soon as the creature was clear, the window of light snapped shut as if someone had turned off a switch.

Dietken attempted to photograph the event, but later examination of his film revealed little of what both men had witnessed with their own eyes. This incident represents one of the most detailed accounts of what some researchers believe may be evidence of interdimensional travel or access to parallel universes. The witnesses were trained observers conducting scientific research, lending credibility to their testimony despite the extraordinary nature of their claims.

The Sherman family's ordeal caught the attention of Las Vegas businessman Robert Bigelow in the summer of 1996. Bigelow had founded the National Institute for Discovery Science the previous year, assembling a team of physicists, engineers, psychologists, and other doctorate-level professionals to investigate phenomena largely ignored by mainstream science.

After reading a newspaper account of the strange events at the Sherman Ranch, Bigelow flew to Utah with his team to evaluate the family's claims. The investigation team included respected figures such as Dr. Colm Kelleher, Edgar Mitchell, an astronaut who'd walked on the moon, parapsychologist Hal Puthoff, and ufologist Jacques Vallee. Bigelow purchased the ranch for $200,000 in September 1996, convincing the Sherman family to remain as caretakers despite their desire to leave.

The NIDS team installed sophisticated monitoring equipment, built observation posts, and staffed the property with trained observers around the clock. The scientific approach represented the most comprehensive paranormal investigation ever undertaken. Video cameras, motion detectors, electromagnetic field monitors, and other advanced equipment were positioned strategically across the property,

The team adhered strictly to scientific methodology, understanding that any deviation would result in immediate dismissal of their findings by the scientific community. Contrary to expectations that professional scrutiny would end the usual activity, the phenomena continued with the researchers present. However, the team faced a frustrating pattern: whatever intelligence seemed to control the events appeared capable of anticipating their moves and avoiding detection by instruments.

If researchers positioned extra cameras and personnel in the southern field, activity would appear in the northern pasture. When they concentrated observations in the center homestead, phenomena would manifest on the ridge overlooking the ranch. This pattern suggested either remarkable coincidence or an intelligence actively evading scientific documentation. On July 19, 1998, an incident occurred that demonstrated the challenge faced by the research team.

Three sophisticated camera packages had been installed atop telephone poles with full views of key areas of the ranch. At exactly 8:30 p.m., the cameras on the westernmost pole were suddenly disabled. When investigators checked the equipment, they found extensive damage. Wires ripped out with considerable force, plastic brackets snapped in two, and thick duct tape securing the equipment torn away.

The most puzzling aspect was that cameras on the second telephone pole, positioned only 200 feet away with a clear view of the damaged equipment, recorded nothing during the time of the attack. Whatever had destroyed the first camera package remained completely invisible to the second set of instruments.

Colonel John Alexander, a retired Army intelligence officer and advisor to NATO organizations, developed a term for this phenomenon. He called it "precognitive sentient intelligence," suggesting that whatever force was at work seemed to know what the researchers planned to do before they did it. Coming up, when government scientists fired rifles at creatures with three-foot-wide reptilian eyes, they found something even more terrifying than missing the target.

a footprint in the snow that matched the claws of a velociraptor, and a phenomenon so contagious that the rancher's supernatural influence began following researchers home, spreading like a virus to their families who had never set foot on the cursed property, leading some to wonder if they weren't just studying the paranormal but becoming part of it. "They've been here for thousands of years, making their presence known in the shadows

They might be seen by a lonely motorist on a deserted road late at night, or by a frightened and confused husband in the bedroom he's sharing with his wife. Perhaps the most disconcerting part of this phenomenon boils down to this question: has the government been aware of their presence all along and is covertly working with them towards some secret end?

In the audiobook, Runs of Disclosure, what once was fringe is now reality. While listening, you'll meet regular people just like you who have encountered something beyond their ability to explain. You'll also hear from people of great faith and deep religious belief who continue to have these strange and deeply unsettling encounters. Author L.A. Marzulli explores these ongoing incidents to discover the answers to these questions.

Who are they? What do they want? And why are they here? Can you handle the truth? Listen to this audiobook, if you dare. Rungs of Disclosure Following the Trail of Extraterrestrials and the End Times by L.A. Marzulli Narrated by Darren Marlar Hear a free sample on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com

One of the most unsettling incidents occurred on the night of March 12, 1997. Barking dogs alerted the team to something lurking in a tree near the ranch house. Tom Gorman grabbed a hunting rifle and drove toward the tree, followed by two NIDS staffers in another vehicle. In the tree branches, they could make out a huge set of yellowish, reptilian eyes.

The head appeared to be three feet wide based on the spacing of the eyes, and the bottom of the tree was another creature described as "huge and hairy, with massively muscled front legs and a dog-like head." Gorman, an experienced marksman, fired at both figures from 40 yards away. The creature on the ground seemed to vanish, while the thing in the tree apparently fell to the ground with a heavy thud in the snow below.

Despite extensive searching by all three men, no wounded animal was found, and no blood trail could be located. However, they did discover physical evidence: a strange footprint in the snow. The track was large and showed three digits with what appeared to be sharp claws. Later analysis revealed a chilling similarity to the footprint of a velociraptor, the extinct predator featured in popular films about prehistoric life.

While researchers make no claims about encountering living prehistoric creatures, the track remains one of the few pieces of physical evidence collected during the investigation that defies conventional explanation. As the government-funded investigation continued through the Advanced Aerospace Weapons System Applications Program from 2008 to 2010, researchers documented a phenomenon they termed the "hitchhiker effect."

This referred to the apparent ability of the ranch's influence to follow visitors after they left the property. A large number of individuals who visited the ranch during this period reported experiencing similar phenomena in other locations: glowing orbs, objects being moved in impossible ways, and sightings of wolf-like creatures.

Most disturbing was the reported spread of these experiences to family members and associates who had never been to the ranch, suggesting some kind of contagious paranormal influence. Dr. Kelleher compared this effect to a virus, with the supernatural phenomena seemingly spreading from person to person through contact with those who'd been exposed to the ranch's influence.

Some researchers reported that the strange experiences followed them home and continued for months or even years after their visits to the property. In 2016, Robert Bigelow sold the ranch to Brandon Fugle, chairman of the Utah branch of Colliers International, a global real estate management firm. Fugle, initially skeptical of the paranormal claims, became convinced after witnessing phenomena firsthand.

He has continued the scientific investigation while allowing documentation for the History Channel's series, "The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch." The current research team, led by astrophysicist Dr. Travis Taylor, employs even more advanced technology than previous investigations. Infrared cameras, radiation detectors, ground-penetrating radar, and other sophisticated instruments monitor the property continuously.

The team has documented unexplained radiation spikes, equipment malfunctions, and aerial phenomena that continue to defy conventional explanation. Despite decades of scientific investigation and millions of dollars in research funding, no conclusive proof of paranormal activity has ever been obtained.

However, researchers note that the lack of evidence may itself be significant, suggesting either natural phenomena that operate beyond current scientific understanding or an intelligence sophisticated enough to avoid definitive detection. The Uintah Basin has been a hotspot for unusual phenomena long before the Sherman family's experiences brought national attention to the area.

Local residents have reported thousands of UFO sightings, cattle mutilations, and encounters with unidentified creatures since the 1950s. The frequency of reports in the 1970s was so high that local law enforcement stopped taking reports, with many officers having witnessed unusual phenomena themselves. The ranch's name derives from Navajo folklore, though the property sits on traditional Ute tribal land.

According to legend, Skinwalkers are malevolent witches capable of shapeshifting into animals. The Ute tribe considers the area around Skinwalker Ridge, which borders the ranch, to be cursed and forbidden. Tribal members are reportedly prohibited from setting foot on the property, a restriction that has existed for generations. Some legends suggest the curse resulted from conflicts between the Navajo and Ute tribes, with the Navajo allegedly unleashing Skinwalkers upon their enemies.

However, these stories remain difficult to verify, as Native American tribes are generally reluctant to discuss such matters with outsiders. The historical context extends beyond Native American folklore. In 1776, Franciscan missionary Silvestro Velez de Escalante recorded encounters with strange fireballs over his campfire in the region.

Local newspapers from 1911 reported mysterious underground noises resembling thunder that disturbed settlers throughout the basin, attributed to movement along the Uinta Fault. Researchers have proposed various scientific explanations for the phenomena reported at Skinwalker Ranch. Some theories focus on geological factors unique to the area that might produce unusual electromagnetic effects or atmospheric disturbances.

The ranch sits in a region with significant tectonic activity, and some scientists suggest that seismic stress could generate electromagnetic anomalies. Neuroscientist Michael Persinger developed a theory about geophysical processes, including tectonic shifts, seismic activity, and geomagnetic fields that might affect the part of the brain responsible for creating hallucinations.

Under this hypothesis, the supernatural experiences would result from environmental factors causing witnesses' brains to malfunction, creating vivid but false perceptions. Ball lightning has been proposed to explain the glowing orbs frequently reported on the ranch. However, this explanation faces significant challenges, as ball lightning is rare, occurs almost exclusively during storms, and has a very short duration.

The phenomena at Skinwalker Ranch appears to be long-lasting, frequent, and seemingly controlled by an intelligence. The cattle mutilations, while mysterious, may have more mundane explanations,

Veterinary experts note that deceased cattle often appear to have surgical precision cuts due to natural decomposition processes, scavenger activity, and environmental factors. Blood can pool and coagulate quickly after death, creating the appearance of bloodless wounds. However, experienced ranchers like Terry Sherman maintain that what they observed differed significantly from normal predation or decomposition patterns.

Some researchers have suggested that classified military technology could explain many of the reported phenomena. Advanced aircraft, electromagnetic weapons, and psychological warfare techniques might be capable of producing effects similar to those described at the ranch. However, this theory struggles to explain why such activities would continue for decades in full view of scientific investigators, or why the military would focus such attention on a remote Utah ranch.

Leading physicists have proposed theories that could potentially explain some aspects of the Skinwalker Ranch phenomena within the framework of known science. Quantum mechanics suggests the existence of multiple dimensions and parallel universes, concepts that were once considered pure science fiction but are now accepted as mathematically possible. Physicist Michio Kaku theorizes that 11 dimensions exist in our universe, though humans have only identified four.

The concept of wormholes — tunnels connecting different parts of spacetime — is considered consistent with known laws of physics. If such portals exist, they might allow beings from other dimensions or distant locations to travel into our world. Some researchers speculate that the orange portal, witnessed by multiple observers at the ranch, could represent such a dimensional gateway.

The reported ability of creatures and objects to appear and disappear without trace might be explained by their movement between parallel dimensions or through wormholes invisible to human perception. String theory, another cutting-edge area of physics, suggests that what we perceive as reality may be only a small slice of a much larger multidimensional universe.

beings existing in higher dimensions might be able to observe and interact with our three-dimensional world in ways that appear supernatural to us, while remaining largely invisible to our scientific instruments.

These theories remain highly speculative, and mainstream science has not embraced them as explanations for paranormal phenomena. However, they do provide a framework within which some of the reported events at Skinwalker Ranch might theoretically occur without violating known laws of physics.

Despite decades of investigation involving millions of dollars and sophisticated scientific equipment, researchers have failed to produce conclusive physical evidence of supernatural activity at Skinwalker Ranch. This lack of concrete proof remains the most significant challenge to claims of paranormal phenomena on the property.

Skeptics argue that the absence of clear photographic evidence, reliable instrument readings, or physical specimens after so many years of study suggests that the reported phenomena may be products of misidentification, delusion, or deliberate hoax. They point out that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, which has not been provided despite extensive opportunities.

However, proponents of the supernatural explanation note that the lack of evidence may itself be significant. If an advanced intelligence is responsible for the phenomena, it would presumably be sophisticated enough to avoid leaving proof of its existence. The reported ability to anticipate and evade scientific observation suggests a level of awareness that would naturally result in limited physical evidence.

The frustration experienced by researchers has been documented extensively. Dr. Kelleher noted that despite throwing considerable personnel and equipment at the investigation while adhering strictly to scientific methodology, the team was unable to gather evidence that would be accepted by the scientific community. The phenomena appeared to be "unreproducible," with no two events following the same pattern.

Some researchers suggest that the intelligence behind the phenomena may be conducting its own study of human behavior, observing how people react to controlled exposure to apparently supernatural events. Under this theory, the lack of conclusive evidence would be intentional, designed to maintain ambiguity and continue the psychological experiment.

Up next: When trained scientists with no belief in the paranormal start witnessing the same impossible phenomena as terrified ranchers, the question becomes whether we're dealing with mass hallucination, interdimensional visitors, or something far more ancient. And as researchers grapple with explanations ranging from quantum physics to spiritual warfare, one thing becomes clear:

After three decades and millions of dollars in investigation, Skinwalker Ranch continues to guard its secrets, leaving us to wonder if some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved, or if we're simply not ready for the answers they might reveal. The Skinwalker Ranch case raises important questions about the role of psychological and social factors in paranormal reports.

The isolation of the ranch, combined with the stress of relocating and establishing a new business, may have contributed to the Sherman family's interpretation of unusual but potentially explainable events. Sleep deprivation, anxiety, and the power of suggestion can all contribute to misperception of normal phenomena,

The family's knowledge of the area's reputation for strange occurrences may have predisposed them to interpret ambiguous situations as supernatural, rather than seeking conventional explanations. However, this psychological explanation faces significant challenges when applied to the Skinwalker Ranch case,

The phenomena were reportedly witnessed by multiple family members independently, as well as by trained scientists with no prior belief in paranormal activity. The consistency of reports across different witnesses and time periods suggests that psychological factors alone cannot account for all the documented experiences.

The involvement of respected researchers with scientific credentials adds credibility to the claims while also raising questions about the limitations of human perception and memory. Even trained observers can be subject to optical illusions, false memories, and unconscious bias in interpreting ambiguous situations. Social factors may also play a role in perpetuating and amplifying paranormal reports.

Once a location gains a reputation for supernatural activity, it attracts individuals who are already predisposed to believe in such phenomena. This selection bias can create a self-reinforcing cycle where new witnesses arrive expecting to see unusual events and interpret normal occurrences accordingly. From a Christian worldview, the events reported at Skinwalker Ranch raise questions about the nature of spiritual warfare and the reality of supernatural forces beyond human understanding.

Many Christian theologians acknowledge the existence of spiritual entities, both good and evil, that can interact with the physical world in ways that appear paranormal to human observers.

The Bible contains numerous accounts of supernatural encounters involving angels, demons, and other spiritual beings. These entities are described as possessing abilities that would appear miraculous or impossible according to natural law, including shape-shifting, materialization, and influence over physical matter. Christian doctrine teaches that such beings continue to exist and operate in the world today, though their activities may be less apparent in modern times.

Some Christian researchers suggest that locations like Skinwalker Ranch may represent points where the apparent intelligence behind the events, the focus on deception and fear, and the harmful effects on humans and animals align with biblical descriptions of demonic activity. The Native American legends of Skinwalkers involving witchcraft and communication with evil spirits would be understood by many Christians as evidence of genuine spiritual warfare,

The Bible explicitly warns against such practices and describes their association with malevolent supernatural forces that seek to deceive and harm humanity. However, Christian theology also emphasizes that believers need not fear such forces, as they are under the protection and authority of God. The Bible teaches that Jesus Christ has ultimate authority over all spiritual entities and that those who trust in Him have access to divine protection against evil influences.

From this perspective, the phenomena at Skinwalker Ranch, if genuine, would represent a localized manifestation of the ongoing spiritual conflict described in Christian scripture. The ranch might serve as a modern example of how ancient spiritual forces continue to operate in the contemporary world, challenging materialistic worldviews while confirming the reality of supernatural dimensions beyond physical science.

Christian investigators would approach such phenomena with prayer, spiritual discernment, and reliance on biblical authority rather than purely scientific methods. They'd recognize that some aspects of reality may remain beyond human understanding, while still being subject to divine sovereignty and purpose in God's ultimate plan for creation.

As a Christian myself, I would love to see a team of scientists who are also solid Bible believers step onto the ranch and do their own investigation with all the instruments science can provide, accompanied by prayer and Bible reading. That would be an interesting documentary. The story of Skinwalker Ranch remains as puzzling today as it was when the Sherman family first reported their terrifying experiences in the 1990s.

After nearly three decades of investigation involving government agencies, private researchers, and millions of dollars in funding, the 512-acre property continues to generate more questions than answers. Witnesses ranging from experienced ranchers to trained scientists have documented phenomena that challenge conventional understanding, yet definitive proof remains elusive.

The ranch seems to enjoy toying with the limits of human knowledge, where the boundaries between scientific inquiry and unexplained mysteries blur in ways that neither skeptics nor believers can fully resolve.

Whether the phenomena represent advanced natural processes unknown to current science, manifestations of interdimensional intelligence, spiritual warfare, or elaborate deception, the experiences of those who have encountered the ranch's mysteries continue to resonate through research communities and popular culture alike.

The investigation continues, driven by the possibility that this remote Utah property may hold keys to understanding aspects of reality that may have remained hidden since the dawn of human consciousness.

I've never been to Skinwalker Ranch myself, but I have been to Blind Frog Ranch. I was in the area attending a UFO disclosure symposium in 2022. If you're not familiar, Blind Frog Ranch is similar to Skinwalker Ranch, just 20 miles east of Skinwalker Ranch, and weird stuff happens out there too. I didn't think much of my own experiences at first until the next day.

See, I've got a bad back, just sitting wrong can throw it out, and the Blind Frog Ranch tour? It is brutal. Pod holes, rocks, even driving through a stream. Normally just 30 seconds of that would wreck me for a week, but somehow I made it through nearly four hours of bouncing, hiking, rough terrain without a single twinge of pain. Nothing.

I met local Blind Frog celebrity and investigator Duane Ollinger while we were out there. Super genuine guy. He asked about my cane and we chatted for a bit. Later we stopped at what Duane calls the "healing pool" where spring water supposedly has restorative effects. I didn't go in, they allowed it, but I didn't. But I did take one small sip of the water. That night back at the hotel I threw my bag out, just from sitting awkwardly on a couch

but not on the ranch. Not during the ride, not during the hike. I should have been in agony, but I wasn't. That's what stuck with me. It wasn't until Charlie from the ranch spoke at the symposium the next day and mentioned feeling energy on the land that it clicked for me. I started wondering, did something on that ranch actually protect me? Was it the water? The energy? A coincidence?

I don't know. But after what I experienced, I'm open to the idea that something is going on at Blind Frog Ranch. So why not Skinwalker Ranch? The next door neighbor. The more notorious of the two. Oh, and the symposium itself. Incredible. I went in skeptical, but the footage and testimony I saw were jaw-dropping.

I don't know exactly what's out there, but something definitely is, and it's worth looking into. It's one of the reasons I spend more time talking about ET now than before 2022. And I'm at L.A. Marzulli, so bonus. Thanks for listening! If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do.

The lead-in story, "The Coyote Nap" is a work of fiction, written specifically for this episode. The rest of the stories shared are purportedly true unless stated otherwise. You can find links to the sources that I used in the episode description. Weird Darkness is a registered trademark. Copyright Weird Darkness. And now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light.

Ephesians 6:12 "For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." And a final thought: The universe is not only stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine. J.B.S. Haldane, British Scientist. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness.

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