11298962_97addaeddd.jpgEarlier this week, the wife and I were briefly up in Redding for the 4th of July. My folks had invited some friends of theirs from church over to join us for dinner, and we sat and talked over large slabs of meat.
T and his wife live on High Street in Old Shasta, a few doors down from the oldest house in the county (I forget – is it the Foster House or the Bystle House?). They’re really interesting people, full of knowledge of the area after having lived there for about 30 years.
We got to talking about local history, and I was pretty amazed at how much they knew. Although they’re in their 60’s, they go kayaking a lot – and had some interesting stories about places on Whiskeytown lake where you can actually put your feet down in the water and stand on some of the old submerged roads.

Anyway, I decided to ask them if they might know anything about all the bizarre stuff we found on that piece of property near the lake a few years back (which I can’t believe we haven’t posted about here).

The story thus far, for any of you who don’t know about this, can be generally summed up as follows:
A few years ago, Jaime told me about this “scary place” that some backpacker friends of his had found on some land up near Whiskeytown. It was apparently really close to 299, and pretty accessible. I guess they’d found all kinds of weird makeshift “buildings” and random stuff out there, and the general weirdness level had freaked them out a little.

We decided to find this place, and after some snooping around we did just that.
The place was actually far weirder and more creepy than any of us expected, and we made careful note of the many NO TRESPASSING signs posted all over the area.
Words can’t adequately describe how funky and weird this place was, so I’ll have to put up the photos we took at some point. It actually reminded me of the movie Seven, if that gives you any clue.

After a couple of trips there and many photos taken to document the sheer bizarreness of it all, we decided to stay away. Whoever was responsible for building this place was clearly off their rocker in a big way, so who knows what would happen if they caught us outsiders invading their mystical world?

That was several years ago. The place is still there, and every time I look down at it from the road it appears that there’s still some active construction going on.
The question that has plagued us since we found out about the place is who is behind this?
What kind of terminally insane LSD freakazoid would build such a place?

Anyway, I told everyone the story of how we found the place, and asked them if they knew who might be behind it. To my surprise, T mentioned that a long time ago, he knew the people who owned the land. “Well, I think that’d have to be Doug,” he said. “He used to truck all kinds of stuff up there, and he’s crazy as a loon.”

“What’s Doug’s last name?” I asked, hoping to get a positive ID on the aforementioned freak.

“Uhh… Hmmm… Been a long time. I can’t quite remember. He was an enormous fellow, though. ”

“Really?”

“Yeah… Boy, he was a real nutcase. You’d see him walking around town, wearing these really weird clothes. He’s a huge guy… used to wear these long black clothes, and carried a big long knife with him.”

“Great… I’m glad we didn’t run into him when we were up there.”

“Yeah, well – even though he looks scary, I think he was pretty harmless. He might have been crazy, but he never tried to beat me up or anything.”

“What happened to him? Have you seen him around lately?”

“No – haven’t seen him in a long time. I don’t know what happened to him… but I’m pretty sure that’s the guy.”

So, there you have it. Not exactly a complete revelation on the origin and purpose of Nuudess Camp, but still some interesting information nonetheless.

The description T gave of this ‘Doug’ guy doesn’t make me want to rush back there any time soon. I’d rather not have my gutted corpse found rotting on an exercise bike inside a small house made of Jim Beam bottles.