Listeners, Please note the following is an immersive audio
drama that includes strong horror themes and potentially
upsetting scenes for some audiences.
For those with specific phobias, please view our show notes or
episode bio for a list of content warnings.
For everyone else, you've been warned.
Thank you and good luck. Johnny, every time you tell me
about one of your new recipe ideas, I swear I'm going to eat
a peanut butter and Jelly for the next two weeks.
I didn't think anyone could do that much with cheese.
You loved my cheese casserole at the last game.
Here I thought it was an easy dip in case we got rained out.
If the weather stays the way it usually does, I don't think
we'll have to worry about that, and neither will our campers.
My wife will be glad to hear that.
I know she was planning to tune in this morning after we heard
about the awful storm a few towns over.
Hi honey, love you. Morning, Nancy, it's 9:00 AM and
it's looking like your typical easy summer stretch highs
throughout the week in the 90s. Lots of scorchers.
Very true Al, but the citizens of Larkville are in luck.
We're likely to see some scattered storms over the next
few afternoons to cool us off. Campers at Lake Want to Tell are
sure to get the brunt of it. While I hope they don't get
rained out, I'm sure they could use a shower after all that
hiking. Low should dip towards 60s,
leaving plenty of need for those campfires and s'mores.
Actually Johnny, have you added cheese to a s'more yet?
You know Al and I have, and I've got a perfect recipe for it.
You'll need 2 Graham crackers, chocolate mini marshmallows and
Swiss cheese and the first thing you want to do is Sparrow.
Barrel Beef 5. Sparrow, stop already.
Or you'll scare. The.
Bird OK, OK. Owl cabin line up over here,
please. I said owl cabin over here.
I stopped. Jen, can you grab the microwave?
Jen, how am I going to find them all?
Backpack. Thank you.
Great, great. Now listen up.
As you know, we've had a big day at the lake and because of your
excellent behavior, Julie and I have a surprise for you after
dinner. So let me hear you give a big
Hoo Hoo owl cabin. Not bad.
Let's get you all showered and changed so we can get to sad
surprise. Let's move.
Owls don't walk. In.
Front of me. I can't believe we got
permission to take them up to the peak.
Do they still want us to bring one of the other cabins?
Along No Tiger Cabin. Got to hear that Brooks story a
couple of nights ago. After what happened with Connie?
I didn't tell you this. Julie, what happened?
Toad Cabin heard all about that. Some of the new kids were asking
why there's no midnight hike anymore.
Miss Wade told Mark he shouldn't be making up stories, but that
was it. No point stocked or anything.
God are you so lucky? Kenny's little sister is in Toad
Cabin right? God Kenny was so dreamy.
I can't believe he's not here this year.
Don't eat that. You didn't get your plant patch
yet. I know.
Can you blame him? Not really.
So now Toad Cabin has a bunch of kids that want to keep the
lights on all night. I wouldn't sleep a wink.
I wouldn't either if I was in that cabin.
So, as a treasured and truly unmissable experience here at
Lake Wanna Tell, we're making a short hike up to Richmond Peak.
Once we get there, we'll build a fire under the stars.
Oh don't worry, it's only a quick hike and I hear there
might be s'mores waiting for you at the top.
To sweeten the deal, how about we tell you a little story, the
spooky story a little birdie told me.
You've heard that some of the other campers got to hear creepy
stories about camp. Ours is a true story about
something that happened right here at Lake Wanato.
More specifically, it's the story of why this trail and the
peak are named after a boy who went to camp here 1 summer way
back when it was first open. You ever wonder why it's called
Richmond Peak? Well.
The night is still, the forest dark, a distant screen, a
Lantern spark through tangled woods.
You make your way where unseen eyes observe their prey.
A creaking branch, a whispered name, a chilling wind, an Epping
flame. The path ahead is cold and
frail. Secrets weave through night's
thin veil. Old legends speak of spirits
near, of those who vanished, drowned in fear.
Moonlight fades and shadows swell on the trail.
To wanna tell. The.
The year was 1927. Camp Wanna Tell had only been
open for a few years and back then it was a bit rougher around
the edges. It was the first Co Ed camp
people knew about and Larkville was just starting to gain enough
population to be considered a town.
The camp didn't have a lot of rules other than don't drown in
the lake. No one was quite as careful as
they should have been. Things were always a little
strange and people tended to look the other way.
If something wasn't right, it wasn't their business to get
involved. It was Elliot Richmond's first
year at Camp. Wanna Tell?
The other kids poked fun at everything they could when it
came to Elliot. He was quiet and didn't spend a
lot of time trying to make friends.
He was on the smaller side for 13.
Clumsy forgot to comb his hair, and his big thick glasses were
always slipping down his nose. His parents hoped he'd man up a
bit at camp. They picked somewhere remote up
in the woods and thought he might even make a friend or two.
His dad was back from the war, he'd hoped his son would want to
follow in his footsteps one day, and going to camp up in the
mountains sounded like just the thing to start him down that
path. When their teasing didn't do
much, even the name calling, the other campers got bored with
Elliot. They started ignoring him and
most of the kids forgot he was supposed to do activities with
them if he decided to stay in his bunk and read.
Most of them did. There was a trio of older boys,
locals who weren't satisfied with ignoring him.
This was their mountain, and Larkville was their town, and
their parents were involved just little enough that those boys
felt like kings at Camp Guanatel.
They taunted Elliot constantly and the more he ignored them the
angrier they got. Just because they were cruel
doesn't mean they were stupid. The boys knew if they got caught
truly bothering Elliot it would get them sent home and then
their summer would really be over.
They thought about what to do about rich man Elliot for a long
time. After a few weeks, the boys
buddied up to the awkward newcomer.
They changed their tune and invited him to be on their team
for kickball. They shared their secret stash
of sweets, grouped him into their lunch table.
They spent a few days laying a trap for poor Elliot, and he
believed them. One night they led him up a
forested hillside under a moon that barely lit the path,
whispering that it was a tradition.
The boys said every new camper had to face the peak all by
themselves. It was a test of courage, a rite
of passage. Once he did it, the rest of the
campers would want to be his friend too.
All he had to do was sit on the mountain in the cool dark of
night until morning, and then he'd finally be one of them.
The higher they climbed, the more Elliot's knees shook.
The air was thinner and every step was harder than the last.
He just kept pushing his glasses up his nose and forging ahead,
just like he'd learned during other hikes.
By the time they got to the end of the trail, Elliot could
barely see the campfire glowing down at camp.
When he looked back to his friends to ask where he had to
stay until they came for him in the morning, he knew something
was wrong. None of them were smiling with
him. Elliot's stomach dropped.
The other boys weren't just bigger and faster, there were
more of them. They were laughing when they
twisted his arms behind his back and tied him to a massive old
oak tree at the summit. It was almost on the edge of the
Cliff side. He begged them to let him down,
that he wouldn't tell, but the bullies didn't listen.
They just rolled their eyes and asked how much the rich man was
going to pay them to let him go. They kept laughing and teasing
him, even when they left him behind.
He listened as they marched away, still calling out their
names until his voice gave out. He knew they were too far to
hear him, and that anything that could hear him out there would
do something much worse and tie him to a tree.
The night was your typical summer, sticky still and hot the
whole way up to the peak. Except now Elliot felt
goosebumps on his exposed arms. Maybe the temperature drop is
because we climbed so high, he tried to convince himself.
Still, his eyes darted around when he heard something strange
in the howling of the wind. Someone, perhaps.
Maybe they had returned. Maybe this was part of the joke.
They'd let him down. He had just started to convince
himself they were coming back, that he could hear their voices.
But even that was wrong. The wind was getting rougher.
Poor Elliot's glasses were plucked off by the growing wind
and cracked on the ground. The voices he'd heard in the
breeze were louder now, and if not for the ropes holding him
upright against the tree, he probably would have fallen.
Trees weren't supposed to scream like that.
Elliot tried so hard to get free, but the campers learned
how to tie knots that very week. Those cruel boys were too busy
laughing about Elliot to realize how cold it was.
When they heard the first scream, they thought it was just
a fox. They were too far down the trail
to hear anything else. It was the next scream that
caught their attention, and the howling windstorm that came with
it. The the scream wasn't human.
It was wild, guttural, something that seemed to tear through the
veil of night itself. They couldn't convince
themselves that it was just a Mountain Lion, which would have
been bad enough. The sound just kept building,
and it was coming from the very forest that surrounded them.
The more they listened, the deeper their dread grew.
The wind circled them no matter which way they turned.
It flung sand in their eyes and ripped branches from the trees
to hurl in their direction. It had stopped howling, and now
it was just unintelligible voices wailing for only them to
hear. The boys didn't pretend to be
brave for very long. Soon, all they could do was
huddle together in the middle of the trail and try not to be
blown off the mountain. They dropped to their knees,
hands pressed tightly over their ears, the world rattling around
them, and it sounded just like Elliot screaming their names.
And then it all just stopped. When they looked around, the
forest was deathly still. Even the crickets were quiet.
Somehow that was worse than everything they'd just heard.
They didn't say another word as they tore back down the rest of
the trail toward the cabins and left poor Elliot behind once and
for all. In the morning, when the sun was
bright and shadowless and they couldn't hold on to their guilt
any longer, they confessed to Nellie, the lady who opened Camp
One Tell, and she called the local police.
The boys led the way with their bravado renewed by the light and
the grown-ups calling Elliot's name behind them.
The breeze was harmless, the trees were quiet.
It was just the woods. They hoped to find Elliot upset
but safe. One of them was even planning to
give the smaller boy the pick of his comic collection as an
apology. He hadn't been that awful to
play with, and he helped them win at kickball instead.
The peak was empty. The ropes they'd tied were
shredded to ribbons on the ground, deep claw marks gouged
out chunks of the massive tree, and Elliot's ruined glasses were
shattered on the rocks at their feet.
They're very tidy knots. We're still intact.
No tracks, no note, no Elliot. There wasn't even any blood.
He was just gone. The boys all swore there was
something in the wind, that they didn't mean for anything to
happen, that it was screaming like a tornado.
The police wrote everything down, and Nellie just stared at
Elliot's glasses without saying a word.
No one at camp heard any storms, No one heard any screaming.
Only four boys heard whatever was on the peak with them that
night, and only one of them would ever know what it was.
Nellie phoned his parents when they got back to camp.
They searched for weeks, You know, His father's army friends
came out to support the family and combed the woods day and
night. The campers and counsellors were
sent home early to keep them out of the way, but no trace of
Elliot's was ever found. The next year, Nellie christened
the spot as Richmond's Peak in his honor.
Some people say he's still up there blind, without his
glasses, searching for someone to take his place.
If you listen closely on quiet nights, you can hear him
calling. Some campers have said he's let
them out of the woods when they're lost just by whispering
their names. Others say if you hear him too
clearly, it's too late. Because now his is the voice
begging for you to join him. Thomas, what are you doing up
here? You scared me.
You, you scared the the campers too.
Oh, it's OK. It's OK.
Please stop crying. It's it's just Thomas.
See. Miss Wade asked me to give you
girls an extra hand. My cabin is with Mark's kids so
they've got 3 counselors right now and you said they're going
to play charades. And your idea of helping is
scaring them all silly. No, that was your idea.
By telling them about the peak. I just have good timing and the
firewood. You forgot.
Jules. What, you don't have it either?
Thanks man, I've got the stuff for s'mores at least.
I'll get the fire going over here is the the old fire pit
cleared out. I I checked it, it should still
be. How do people keep littering
this far up? What do you mean?
More glass. I cleared some out from here
yesterday after lunch. I must have missed it.
Can I see it? Oh, that's some thick glass.
I wonder what it's from? Do you think that story was
real? No, they just told it to us to
freak us out. What if it is real?
What if Elliot's still up there? Shut up.
Seriously, go to sleep. Goodnight.
Shut. Up.
Did you hear that? It's just the wind.
I'm going to tell Julie and Jen that you're keeping me up and
you'll get in big trouble. I heard it.
It's Elliot.
Stop messing around, he. Followed us to camp.
He did not. It was just a ghost story and
it's just the wind and I didn't even hear anything.
So go to sleep. That wasn't the wind.
Someone's out there. I I I bet it's Thomas again.
I don't want to be stuck on the peak.
Lights out owl cabin. No more ghost stories tonight.
I thought you were all in bed. Who tried going outside?
Julie, Julie, the door. Someone's out there said hungry
it. Has to be Elliot.
I knew that story was a bad idea.
It's time to get in bed. We have to be up early for
sports day tomorrow, and I expect first place from you all.
We probably just forgot to close it all the way.
I'll check outside, but there's nothing there that isn't
supposed to be. Jesus Christ, Jen, what?
Sorry, sorry, I was pulling in the swimsuits from the wreck so
no raccoons or anything would take them overnight.
Are you OK? You're really pale.
Yeah, no, of course. I guess I just ended up spooking
myself after the story earlier. I'm I'm fine.
The kids said they heard something out there.
Well come on then, let's get inside and lock up before Elliot
comes to get on. If you start whistling, I'm
locking you outside. I'm going to come and get you.
Seriously, cut it out. You're as bad as the boys are.
You don't believe that stupid story do.
You. No, you're just being awful.
Give me that one. I'll hang it up in the bathroom.
It's still dripping. Oops, sorry.
Thanks. Do you think it really was named
after some camper? Could be it's not too far
fetched. But not a camper that went
missing. Julie.
I'm just saying, hey, campers, it was just Jen fighting the
raccoons. Everybody say thanks, Jen.
Jen. Did you get rabies?
Credits to the cast in order of appearance Tory Dr. as Alan
Wilson, Geoff Moatz as Johnny Cowan, Kelly, The Kell Hop as
Julie Mackey, Meg McKellar as Jennifer Darwin, Malan Dansui as
the Narrator, and the Monster Frederick Powers as Thomas
Anderson. Additional voices by M Cross,
Eli King, Saph Bridebel, Erin Valentine, Martin Green Joshua
Chamberlain. Credits to our crew Executive
Producer and associate Writer Erin Valentine Lead producer and
associate writer Saph Bridebel, Lead writer Adele King, Script
editors Eli King and Xavier Searle, Law keeper Eli King,
lead audio engineer, composer and associate writer Meg
McKellar, Audio engineers SD Hernandez, Jacob Gucci,
Yamaguchi and Joshua Chamberlain.
Lead visuals artist Dexter Valentine.
Visuals artist MB Lee. Thank you for listening to 1.7
Miles to Lake Wanatel, a Honeydew Studios production.
We hope you enjoyed. Tune in next Saturday for a new
episode.