Mountain Spirits

Years ago a buddy and I were traveling in the mountains of North Georgia and got lost. We ended up on some isolated dirt/gravel road. Sometime after midnight we rounded a curve too fast and ended up in a deep ditch. We were stuck and had no idea what to do. Luckily a full, crisp moon was out so we started walking and after a few miles we heard a vehicle coming our way. What an eerie sight to see dim lights approaching in the still of the night along a deserted road.

The truck stopped, an older, gruffy man stepped out and approached us. His breath came out in misty puffs, his walk magnified by the crunch of gravel. I was somewhat scared, I'm sure my buddy was too. Thoughts of Deliverance rang through my head! All he said was "What's going on?" We explained what happened. "Ain't no one can git ya out till morning". He did say there was an old fish camp nearby that we could probably sleep at. "I can drop ya off there". We hopped in the back of the truck and he took us to the place. Led us straight to a room, it was open and told us to stay there; someone would come by in the morning. I asked his name and he said "Henry Holcombe". We thanked him and said good night.