>>40660922
I felt a mild compulsion to take these rocks so I could figure out what they were. No reason other than they were unique - and in that gully that is unusual. We set off down the gully, I slip and cut my toe on a rock (chaco life), and all is well until we get to the bottom of the gully.

We get back to the trail that leads into the gully. I'm in front, my spastic blue heeler is trying to uproot a bush a little ahead of me, and I'm hit with this sense of unease at my back. I stop and turn around and find that the wife has done the exact same thing without saying anything. We're both just looking into the gully, like there's something there - because that's exactly what it feels like. The sensation of something being in there and very unhappy with us is radiating out of there like heat from a coal.

Here's the thing, though: there's fuck all to see. This gully is just scree slopes at 40-45 degrees, hard rock vertical faces, a run-off scoured bottom, and the occasional bush 2-3 feet tall spaced maybe 50-60 feet apart (see picrel of the mountains to get an idea). There's nothing there, but that gut feeling of danger is pinging hard just like back at the 'Moloch abduction site'. I ask if she's ever felt that before, she says no, and I gently explain to NEVER ignore that feeling and it's time to go.

So, we go. We take the long way back to the truck, down the trail to the highway, down the highway to where the truck's parked, rather than the shortcut game trail through the trees - better visibility. Whatever we are feeling the dog is too: her normal MO is to sprint from squirrel to squirrel in the woods, generally bursting from the brush at random 20-50 feet ahead of us. Now she's planted firmly 3 feet in front of me, swinging her head side to side like she's looking for something. This is the only time I've seen her do this.

We make it to the truck, have some quick sandwiches, decide against camping overnight and load up for home.