Post by awolfgod on May 2, 2009 10:50:53 GMT -5
The Witchie Wolves of Omer Plains
I grew up on the eastern shore of Lake Huron, twelve miles north of Bay City, Michigan. With the limited nightlife available to teenagers in this rural area, the vast majority of teens during the mid-seventies would drive around the piny woods and wetlands looking for parties or privacy. Since at least the early sixties, it was a teenage rite for male students from Pinconning High School to pile into a car and drive twenty miles north to the wilderness known as "The Omer Plains." Located a few miles west of the little town of Omer (the Omer Plains is marked on Arenac County maps), this strange uninhabited place of scrubby pines and swampland is home of the phenomenon known as "The Witchie Wolves."
According to local Chippewa legend, Witchie Wolves are invisible spirit dogs that guard the graves of ancient warriors, attacking anyone foolish enough to venture out at night on foot. Although I went to the Omer Plains twice, nobody in our vehicle was brave enough to get out of the car. We could all hear the hideous high-pitched laughing bark that came from all directions out of the near total darkness. Several times a year, a skeptical youth, usually an athlete or an outdoorsman type would take the dare and get out of the car, only to be violently knocked to the ground by what always seemed to be an invisible wolf or dog, snarling and snapping at the victim's head. Screaming and scrambling back into the car, nobody ever stuck around long enough to see what else would happen. I have seen tough guys cry while telling of their experience. I have heard claims of torn clothes and I have seen scratches and dents on roofs of cars which the owner, straight faced and sober, would claim weren't there before the Witchie Wolf attack.
It seemed like everyone knew and accepted the Witchie Wolves. They were and probably still are given a wide berth.
David A. Kulczyk
Seattle, Washington
Originally published in Strange 15.
I grew up on the eastern shore of Lake Huron, twelve miles north of Bay City, Michigan. With the limited nightlife available to teenagers in this rural area, the vast majority of teens during the mid-seventies would drive around the piny woods and wetlands looking for parties or privacy. Since at least the early sixties, it was a teenage rite for male students from Pinconning High School to pile into a car and drive twenty miles north to the wilderness known as "The Omer Plains." Located a few miles west of the little town of Omer (the Omer Plains is marked on Arenac County maps), this strange uninhabited place of scrubby pines and swampland is home of the phenomenon known as "The Witchie Wolves."
According to local Chippewa legend, Witchie Wolves are invisible spirit dogs that guard the graves of ancient warriors, attacking anyone foolish enough to venture out at night on foot. Although I went to the Omer Plains twice, nobody in our vehicle was brave enough to get out of the car. We could all hear the hideous high-pitched laughing bark that came from all directions out of the near total darkness. Several times a year, a skeptical youth, usually an athlete or an outdoorsman type would take the dare and get out of the car, only to be violently knocked to the ground by what always seemed to be an invisible wolf or dog, snarling and snapping at the victim's head. Screaming and scrambling back into the car, nobody ever stuck around long enough to see what else would happen. I have seen tough guys cry while telling of their experience. I have heard claims of torn clothes and I have seen scratches and dents on roofs of cars which the owner, straight faced and sober, would claim weren't there before the Witchie Wolf attack.
It seemed like everyone knew and accepted the Witchie Wolves. They were and probably still are given a wide berth.
David A. Kulczyk
Seattle, Washington
Originally published in Strange 15.
