The Vanishing Hikers of Black Mountain: Nature's Forbidden Zone

Black Mountain rises from the dense forests of North Carolina's Pisgah National Forest - a seemingly ordinary peak with an extraordinary secret. Since 1922, this unassuming wilderness area has claimed more than two dozen hikers who ventured into its remote trails, leaving behind only scattered possessions and unanswered questions.

The First Documented Disappearance On August 17, 1922, Daniel Cooper, a 27-year-old experienced outdoorsman from Asheville, set out for a three-day solo expedition to map several unmarked trails along Black Mountain's northern ridge. Cooper had explored the area numerous times before and was well-equipped for the journey. When Cooper failed to return after five days, a search party was organized. After a week of intensive searching that covered over 20 square miles, all that was recovered was Cooper's canvas backpack containing his untouched provisions and mapping equipment, found neatly placed at the base of a large oak tree nearly 3 miles from his intended route. His compass lay beside it, the needle spinning erratically despite being manufactured by a reputable company. The official report concluded Cooper must have become disoriented and wandered into a remote area where he succumbed to exposure or wildlife. His body was never recovered.

The 1940s: A Pattern Emerges Between 1943 and 1949, five more hikers vanished in the same general vicinity. In each case, the circumstances followed a disturbing pattern: The missing were experienced hikers familiar with woodland navigation Weather conditions were clear at the time of disappearance Personal belongings were discovered arranged in unnatural configurations No bodies were ever recovered despite extensive searches At least one item of the missing person's clothing was found torn and stained with an unidentifiable substance The most troubling case from this period involved sisters Margaret and Elizabeth Holcomb, ages 24 and 26, who disappeared on June 12, 1947.

Three days after they failed to return from their hike, searchers found their campsite in perfect condition - food still in sealed containers, sleeping bags laid out neatly, and a small fire that had been carefully extinguished. Fifty yards away, hanging from tree branches at a height of nearly twelve feet, were the sisters' hiking boots - all four arranged in a perfect square formation when viewed from below. The official explanation suggested a practical joke by other hikers, but no other visitors were registered in the area during that period.

The Blackout Period: 1952-1969 Following the disappearance of a family of four in October 1951, federal authorities took the unprecedented step of closing large portions of the Black Mountain trail system for what they termed "forest management and fire prevention measures." The closure remained in effect for nearly 18 years. Local newspaper archives from the Asheville Citizen-Times contain numerous letters to the editor during this period questioning the extended closure, particularly a passionate inquiry from Robert Livingston, whose brother was among the disappeared: "Why has the public been barred from these trails for going on fifteen years now? What are they hiding up there? My brother James didn't just walk off into thin air. Something happened on that mountain, and certain people know exactly what it is." (Published March 17, 1967)

The Modern Era: The Disappearances Resume When the trails reopened in 1970, park officials installed additional warning signs emphasizing the importance of staying on marked paths and not hiking alone. For nearly a decade, no incidents were reported. Then on April 23, 1979, graduate students Michael Forrester and David Klein, both studying forestry at North Carolina State University, ventured into the area to collect soil samples for their research. Both men were familiar with the terrain and had participated in multiple extended wilderness excursions. Their university-owned vehicle was found in the trailhead parking lot three days after they were supposed to return.

A search party discovered their research equipment, notebooks, and camping gear at their last documented sampling site. The soil collection tools were arranged in a perfect circle, with each item precisely equidistant from the center point. Klein's tape recorder was recovered among their belongings. The final recording, timestamped at 11:17 PM on April 24, contained 42 seconds of silence followed by what audio analysts described as "low-frequency vocalizations outside the normal range of known wildlife in the region." The final seven seconds captured Klein whispering: "It's outside again. Something's wrong with the air. I can't... we need to..." before the recording abruptly ended. Despite one of the most extensive search operations in North Carolina history, including infrared aerial scanning and cadaver dogs, no trace of either man was ever found. The Ranger's Warning Perhaps most telling is the account of Thomas Burnett, who worked as a park ranger in the Black Mountain area from 1989 to 2003. After his retirement, Burnett gave a single interview to a local journalist in 2007, which was never published in full.

According to the reporter's notes, Burnett stated: "New rangers got the talk their first week. We were instructed never to respond to calls from certain grid coordinates alone, even in daylight. We were told to always maintain radio contact and report any unusual equipment malfunctions immediately. Most importantly, we were taught to ignore certain sounds after sunset - specifically, human voices calling for help from off-trail locations if we couldn't immediately identify the source visually. I didn't ask too many questions after I saw what happened to the ones who did." Burnett refused all follow-up interviews and moved from the area shortly afterward.

The Sayers Expedition: The Last Straw The most recent and perhaps most disturbing incident occurred in October 2016, when experienced hiking guide and former military survival instructor Keith Sayers led a group of five photographers into the area to capture fall foliage. Sayers had completed this same trip annually for eight years without incident. On October 17, only Sayers emerged from the forest. According to the official report, he was found wandering alongside the highway nearly 18 miles from their intended exit point, suffering from severe dehydration and hypothermia despite mild weather conditions. Sayers' account of what happened to the photographer was deemed "inconsistent and unreliable due to his physical condition" by authorities. He repeatedly mentioned a "thinning" that occurred at night and insisted that "the forest floor breathed." Most disturbing was his insistence that he had been gone for nearly three weeks, though only two days had passed since the group's entry into the park. The search for the missing photographers was abandoned after ten days. Park officials cited dangerous terrain and inclement weather, though local weather records show clear conditions throughout the period. Sayers checked himself out of the hospital against medical advice three days after his rescue and reportedly left the state. His current whereabouts are unknown.

The Government's Silence Despite repeated Freedom of Information Act requests from journalists and family members of the missing, the U.S. Forest Service and National Park Service have released only heavily redacted documents regarding the Black Mountain disappearances. In 2019, an internal memo was accidentally included in a FOIA response to the Asheville Citizen-Times. The partial document, dated June 2002, referenced "ongoing anomalous incidents" in the Black Mountain region and mentioned "containment protocols" and "media mitigation strategies."

The last visible line stated: "Under no circumstances should rangers acknowledge Pattern 4B events to unauthorized personnel or civilian inquiries." When questioned about this document, officials claimed it was included in error and related to wildlife management protocols rather than missing persons cases.

Local Knowledge: The Unspoken Rules Those who live in the small communities surrounding Black Mountain speak of it only reluctantly. However, locals observe certain rules that they pass down through generations: Never hike the northern slopes after 4 PM, regardless of season If your compass needle spins or electronic equipment fails suddenly, retreat immediately along your entry path Ignore voices calling your name if you cannot see who's calling Never investigate unusual arrangements of objects in the forest If you experience a sudden temperature drop or unusual silence (lack of insect or bird sounds), leave the area immediately As one anonymous resident told a researcher in 2011: "That mountain doesn't lose people. It takes them." Scientific Explanations Fall Short Geologists have noted that Black Mountain contains unusual mineral deposits that can occasionally cause compass malfunctions. Some researchers have proposed that natural gas pockets or cave systems might create hallucinogenic effects or areas of oxygen deprivation that could explain disoriented behavior.

However, none of these theories adequately explain the pattern of disappearances, the strange arrangement of personal items, or why bodies are never recovered despite modern search techniques. The Warning Signs Remain Today, Black Mountain's trails remain open to the public, though several areas are conspicuously marked as closed for environmental restoration or wildlife protection. Park maps have been subtly altered over the decades, with certain areas becoming less detailed or reclassified as wilderness management zones with restricted access. New warning signs installed in 2018 include unusual prohibitions not commonly seen in national forests, including bans on hiking during twilight hours, restrictions on certain electronic equipment, and requirements that hikers inform rangers of their exact route before departure. Most telling is the small sign at the Maple Spring trailhead, which simply states: "Stay on marked paths. If disoriented, do not seek higher ground. Return downhill toward developed areas. Do not travel alone. For those who know the history, these are not routine warnings - they are the accumulated wisdom of nearly a century of inexplicable loss, a silent acknowledgment that something on Black Mountain defies rational explanation.

The disappearances continue, averaging one every two to three years. Still, the authorities offer only the most mundane explanations: hikers become lost, succumb to exposure, or encounter wildlife. But the locals know better. As one forest service employee who requested anonymity whispered: "There's a reason we don't use search dogs in certain parts of Black Mountain anymore. The ones that come back aren't the same."