What the Fuck?

We walked directly into a large bowl. Instantly, my 110 pound friend pulled out his tiny pocket knife and assured us that he would handle any threat around the corner. Nothing happened, but the creepiest part of the whole night was when we got about one mile from the end of the trail where the clouds had not fallen yet. There was a man sitting on top of a picnic table, his dog standing next to him as he played the banjo in a creepy up-tempo tune at 3 a.m. We heard a meowing roar that we could only imagine was a mountain lion. Looking back, it may have been a bobcat. You've never seen 16 age boys