Who did it creepier, Highgate, London, or Leadville, Colorado?

by allthoughtswork

I’ve been to the old Leadville cemetery and this video doesn’t do it justice. It goes on forever into the woods with no point of reference, you’re constantly tripping into the sunken furrows of unmarked graves, worn marble headstones jut out of the ground everywhere to stare at you like faceless ghosts, and it’s silent out there. Ain’t nobody to hear to scream.

2 Comments to “Who did it creepier, Highgate, London, or Leadville, Colorado?”

  1. warstone and the neighbouring key hill cemetary are two of the oldest in Birmingham

    set in the middle of the city, these are pretty eerie (and dangerous) places to visit in the daytime – with the sunken graves as a result of subsidence, and broken, fallen headstones

    [I spent days, some years back, when researching my wife’s family history, combing Key hill looking for the graves of some of her early ancestors buried there]

    at night now, groups of folk carrying torches can be seen wandering through these cemetaries following a guide showing them the burial place of notable persons and listening to his tales of grisly murders and sightings of ghosts linked to the cemetary


  2. Funnily enough, I find cemeteries relaxing and quiet, not scary at all.

    I decided long ago that there’s happy energy and pissy energy and people are like radios: Whatever you’re tuned to is what you receive. Consequently, all my, shall we day, otherworldly interactions have been fun, even in “haunted” situations.

    One time, I lingered too long on a very remote Colorado trail to watch a sunset and had to slog my way back through miles of darkness. Wintery, cougar-filled darkness. I was scared shitless and had that creepy feeling the whole time like I was being stalked. I did everything I could to stay upbeat–sang, retold jokes to myself, etc.

    Suddenly, there was a dim light shining down on me from a high angle, just long enough for me to see my own shadow on the trail. I stopped and looked around, certain another hiker was pranking me with a Maglite or something. There was nothing, I was utterly alone (except for the cougars).

    Inspired to don my headlamp, I switched it on and discovered that I was two steps from a steep ice sheet across the trail that would have sent my ass down a ravine.

    I don’t know where that light came from, if it was real or just my own intuition advising me to take my head out of my ass and hike properly but there’s no doubt in my mind tragedy was averted. Sorry, cougars.

    [I was on what is now called the Bison Peak Trail in the Lost Creek Wilderness. It’s very built up today and heavily used but back in the mid-90s, only a handful of hardcore hikers knew about this route and you rarely saw another soul out there. Which was my goal, ironically.]


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