The world of paranormal contains several dark world creatures. Nevertheless, there are few good holy spirits who come along to help and protect you through tough moments of your life. This is my true story when I encountered a good animal ghost that appeared before us to save our otherwise endangered lives.
A True Story of Animal Ghost Encounter
Many years ago, my husband Paul was a company representative, and as such, travelled the length and breadth of New Zealand selling his Companies products.
On one such occasion he and one of the Company’s Auckland managers, Steve Gray; were returning from a trip to the South Island’s West Coast. It was; not unusually, a dull overcast afternoon, and they were late leaving Greymouth.
They drove south along the coast, toward Hokitika the gray Tasman Sea crashing heavily onto the beach on their right, they turned inland after crossing the Teremakau road and rail bridge. Through the semi tropical beech tree, punga and fern stands to Kumara Junction.
The two men chatted off and on about the trip and some of the new business contacts that had been made. The road ahead narrowed and the forest thinned as they started to climb, the chat gradually subsided. This is a road that needed every bit of concentration.
Heavy globules of rain started to fall as the skies opened. “Wonderful!” said Paul, “just what we bloody needed. A torrential downpour. I was hoping to be over the Otira before it rained.”
The car surged ahead, climbing steadily upward, Paul turned the head lights on, the wiper blades barely coping with the sheets of water as the car gripped the now slippery road surface. It had been a long time since Steve had travelled the Otira Gorge, he had forgotten how treacherous the road could be.
He sat quietly in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, his unlit pipe gripped firmly between his teeth.
Entering the dark and dilapidated Bridge
The blue Cortina station wagon sped out from the dip in the road, under the rail over-bridge, squirting water up both sides of the car and creating a noise like thunder. Steve visibly paled as the road narrowed even more.
They rounded the bend at Aickens and there ahead lay the Otira. A dark ominous, winding gap, climbing 3000ft into the heart of the Southern Alps, at the top the mountain settlement of Arthurs Pass and the 100 mile drive home to Christchurch.
Paul dropped the car down a gear and increased acceleration. Old faithful ploughed unfaltering up the hill. The rain was falling so heavily waterfalls cascaded from the overhanging sides of the sheer cliff face onto the road.
Fords filled with rushing water threatening to wash the car off the road and down the 1000 ft drop to the rocks below. “Nearly there.” Said Paul, “just a couple more bends and we’re at the top.” Steve smiled unenthusiastically.
“Just get me off this bloody road.” He said as he gripped the seat with both hands, his still unlit pipe drooping slightly. Paul grinned wickedly, he knew this road so well, he had been travelling it since boyhood. “Almost there.” He reassured Steve. As the engine note changed with an even lower gear.
The car slid as mud from the hillside sloshed across the road. Large rocks bounced in the headlights as they pushed forward. “One last bend mate, and we’re there.” The station wagon slid round the big right swinging S-bend and snaked out the other side.
Jersey Cow Blocking Our Way
Hundreds of feet below the Otira river boiled and frothed white, as it roared over the boulders. “Don’t know what you’re worried about Steve,” said Paul, “it’s just another piece of road.” “I need a cup of coffee, pull in at Arthurs Pass. I’ll buy.” Steve said. As he relaxed just a little. ” I wish this rain would stop.” But it didn’t, it just got heavier.
“Odd,” said Paul as they left the coffee shop. “haven’t seen too many other cars come through. We’ll just take it easy from here on down.” It was pitch black and raining buckets. The mountains closed in around the car as the road stretched out like a thin black ribbon in the night.
The pair drove down through Arthurs Pass toward the Bealey river, silently, no one else, just them. “What’s the hell’s that!” said Paul. “What.” Said Steve jumping from a brief nap. “What is it?” On the road in the distance, Paul slowed. “It’s a bloody cow. A black and white cow.”
“Shoot, I wouldn’t want to hit that beggar, it’d make a mess of the car.” Said Steve, “Blow the horn, see if you can’t shift it.” The horn echoed through the rain and disappeared into the night. As the car slewed to a stop, the cow didn’t move. “Blow the horn again Paul.” Said Steve, “that’ll scare the beggar off.”
There they were, sat in the middle of the Southern Alps on a wind swept bit of road in a torrential rain storm. “Don’t move Steve. I’ll get out and chase it off.” Said Paul sarcastically, “Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
When the Cow vanished in a jiffy
The two men shuffled about uncomfortably in the car, each hoping the other would move first. “Come on then, let’s go.” Paul said as they reached for the door handles and braced themselves for the rain and the cold night air. “Geeze it’s freezing, where the hell it gone too.” Steve called above the din of the rain.
“I don’t know. It was here a minute ago.” Both men stood in the glare of the head lamps, neither could see a cow. “What’s that noise?” Paul called, “It’s coming from just up there.” The two men walked up the road a little way, just beyond the reach of the head lights.
Both stood looking down at a yawning chasm where the Bealey River bridge should have been. No other cars used the pass that night, the road had been closed from Otira township to Porters Pass 5 minutes after the two men had left the coffee shop at Arthurs Pass.
When we concluded it was an Animal Ghoul
Just as the two rain soaked men got back to the station wagon, the Arthurs Pass, Park ranger’s land rover pulled up beside them. “God,” he said, as he stepped down from the cab. “We were hoping we could catch you long before you got here.
We only found out the bridge was out minutes after you left the cafe. Yours was the only car to make it through the pass tonight. What on earth made you stop here?” “It was the cow. A black and white jersey cow, right in the middle of the road.” Said the now shivering Steve.
“Can’t have been a cow mate, there’s no cows up here, jersey or otherwise, only sheep.” The ranger said pointing into the darkness. “Come on, you best follow me back to Arthurs Pass, you won’t be going home tonight.” Paul peered around in the darkness one last time. “If it hadn’t been for that bloody cow, we wouldn’t be going home at all.” Steve sat back in the car, turned the heater up, and lit his pipe.
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