Part 1
On July 10, 2023, a blue Subaru Outback pulled into the gravel parking lot at Mowich Lake Trailhead near Mount Rainier. The engine ticked softly in the mountain air as Daniel McCrae, 42, stepped out, stretched, and walked around to help his daughter Sophie unbuckle from the back seat. She was 10 years old, wearing a faded bird-watching vest and carrying a small pair of binoculars.
They were there for a weekend in the woods. Just the two of them. No cell service, no distractions. The forecast called for blue skies, temperatures in the mid-70s, and no storms.
Daniel was not inexperienced. A former Army medic trained in wilderness survival, he worked as a nurse in Tacoma. Friends described him as meticulous and dependable, a planner who brought backup batteries and memorized topographic maps. He had taken Sophie hiking every month since she was 5. She loved birds and kept a field journal where she sketched and logged every species she spotted. Her goal was to become a wildlife biologist.
The plan was straightforward: drive out Friday, hike to Tolmie Peak Lookout, and camp near Eunice Lake. The route was a 5.6-mile round trip, moderate and scenic, with views of Mount Rainier and the basin below. Daniel had done it before.
They signed no backcountry permits. They left no itinerary with friends or family. They told no one exactly where they were going beyond “Mount Rainier.” It was a routine weekend trip.
They never returned.
Their last confirmed sighting came from a Chevron station approximately 40 miles from the park. Surveillance footage showed Daniel paying for gas and snacks: trail mix, marshmallows, and two packets of hot chocolate. Sophie turned slowly in the candy aisle, pointing at gummy worms. Both appeared relaxed.
On July 12, Daniel’s sister, Lauren, grew concerned. Daniel sometimes went off-grid during hikes, but Sophie always called her mother by Sunday night. This time, there was no call. Lauren phoned Daniel. It went to voicemail. She messaged his ex-wife. No response. That evening, she drove to his house. The lights were off. Mail sat untouched. Sophie’s cat meowed at the door.
By July 13, the Subaru was located at Mowich Lake Trailhead. It was parked neatly, undisturbed. The doors were locked. There were no signs of forced entry or damage. Inside, Daniel’s glove box was locked. Sophie’s water bottle sat in the cup holder. Her favorite birding book lay face down in the back seat. Her fleece jacket and purple backpack were missing, likely with her. Her field journal remained tucked beneath a paperback about Washington birds.
There were no obvious signs of foul play. No blood. No disarray.
Authorities treated it initially as a standard overdue hiker report. Rangers noted that Daniel had not registered for a wilderness permit and had not checked in at any ranger station. No route had been filed. There was no clear trail to follow beyond the assumption that they had taken the Tolmie Peak route.
Search and rescue teams were dispatched within 12 hours. Dogs, drones, park rangers, and helicopters began sweeping the area. The initial focus was the Tolmie Peak Lookout Trail, which includes narrow switchbacks and steep drop-offs.
They found nothing. No tracks. No campsite. No discarded wrappers. No clothing. Rangers checked known camping spots near Eunice Lake. Empty. They called out Daniel and Sophie’s names into the woods. The only response was wind and birds.
By mid-afternoon on July 13, the weather shifted. Clouds gathered. Cold mountain rain began falling. Fog reduced visibility to less than 30 feet. Helicopters were grounded. Radios crackled with static. Grid searches expanded 300 feet into underbrush on either side of the trail. K9 units worked the terrain.
By nightfall, there were no results.
The rain continued through the night, washing away potential footprints.
By July 14, the disappearance had made local headlines: “Father and Daughter Vanish in National Park.” Within days, national media picked up the story. Daniel was described as a decorated Army medic and devoted father. Sophie’s school photo circulated widely: brown eyes, shoulder-length hair, holding a spotted owl plush toy.
Speculation followed. Some suggested they had gotten lost or succumbed to the elements. Others proposed animal attack, abduction, murder, suicide, or voluntary disappearance. Tips poured in. A reported sighting in Spokane was disproven by surveillance footage. A shoe found miles away was decades old. None of the leads produced evidence.
Investigators then opened Daniel’s locked glove compartment. Inside was a black Moleskine notebook, water-stained but intact.
The early entries were routine: mileage, weather conditions, packing lists. Midway through, the tone shifted.
July 2: Trees feel closer at night.
July 4: Something moved behind our tent. Not wind.
July 5: Sophie says she hears it too. We don’t camp twice in the same spot now.
July 7: I saw it. Just for a second. Between the trees. Not a bear.
July 8: Not alone out here.
In the margin: I see them in the trees.
There were no records indicating Daniel had camped in the area before July 10. The entries were dated days earlier. It was unclear whether they referred to this trip or a prior visit.
One note read: Sophie whistling again last night. She cried in her sleep.
The final entry: We’re not alone out here.
A forensic psychologist reviewed the notebook and suggested possible stress-related delusion or untreated PTSD. Family members disputed that Daniel had shown signs of instability. Sophie’s mother described him as grounded and attentive.
Further review revealed that Daniel had not only avoided filing permits but had also researched unregulated forest areas on his home computer. Google Earth data showed pins placed deep in wilderness zones. One location was labeled “the basin.”
A hiking acquaintance told investigators that Daniel had recently become focused on isolation, saying the woods were the only place that made sense anymore.
Despite the expanding search radius—12 miles in every direction—no remains, no campsite, and no physical trace were found.
One month later, Sophie’s fourth-grade art teacher, Elena Robisho, found a drawing Sophie had given her in late June. It depicted a dark forest with elongated, shadow-like figures between the trees. At the bottom were the words: Dad says it’s just trees, but I see them.
The drawing was entered into evidence but was not classified as probative.
In early August, retired Ranger Bill Harwood approached park officials. He described a decommissioned maintenance trail north of Eunice Lake, removed from official maps after landslides in the late 1990s. According to Harwood, its entrance was subtle and easily mistaken for a viable path.
Investigators sent a small team to locate it. At the suspected entrance, they found a child’s mitten, faded blue and soaked from exposure, lying in the mud.
Six months after the disappearance, winter closed in. Snow covered the trails. The National Park Service suspended the search. Over 500 hours had been logged. Hundreds of volunteers had participated. No bodies had been found.
Daniel and Sophie McCrae were declared presumed dead.
A memorial was held in Tacoma in January 2024. Daniel’s ex-wife, Christine, did not accept the conclusion. She told police Daniel had grown distant in the final year, changed the locks twice, purchased backup solar chargers, and canceled Sophie’s school enrollment without informing her. She believed he may have been preparing for something.
The case was officially closed.
It did not remain that way.
Part 2
Podcaster Lena Hart began reviewing the McCrae case in late 2024 for her show focused on unexplained disappearances. She examined Daniel’s military record: honorable discharge, service in Afghanistan, trauma specialist.
She interviewed two former squadmates. One described Daniel as a good father who would not harm his child. The other recalled Daniel speaking about mountains in unusual terms, saying certain places “mess with signal, human signal.”
Lena reviewed topographical data and historical trail overlays for Mount Rainier. She noted several prior disappearances in similar regions marked by limited physical evidence.
In September 2024, Lena met with the lead park investigator and reviewed a folded, annotated topographical map recovered from Daniel’s vehicle. It was not a standard park map but a printed historical overlay showing decommissioned trails.
Daniel had drawn a thin pencil line diverging north of Eunice Lake into unmarked terrain. At the end of the line was the word “the basin,” accompanied by a small square marking and the note: old access path, check elevation, steep drop west.
“The basin” did not appear in official records or US Geological Survey databases.
On November 3, 2024, Jeremy Faulner, an amateur photographer hiking north of Eunice Lake, left the main trail and bushwhacked through undergrowth. On a steep incline, he found a small pink hiking boot partially buried under moss and leaves. He photographed it and marked GPS coordinates.
Less than 100 feet away, he heard a faint clinking sound. Following it, he found a makeshift wind chime hanging from a fir branch. It was assembled from rusted metal spoons tied with twine and fishing line. In the center hung a small bell from an infant toy.
Approximately 200 yards downhill, hidden behind fallen timber and ferns, Jeremy found what appeared to be an abandoned campsite. A collapsed tarp lay partially buried. A tent stood nearby, torn along one side, mesh shredded, frame bent inward.
Around the site were decomposed food wrappers, a rust-stained metal mug, disintegrating plastic bags. Under the tarp lay a weather-damaged teddy bear and a child’s sweater, blue with faded white stars.
Inside the tent, written in black marker on the interior wall, were the words: They only come at night.
Jeremy reported the findings. Within 24 hours, a recovery team reached the site.
Behind the ruined tent, partially buried, a cadaver dog alerted. Skeletal remains were located and identified through dental records as Daniel McCrae.
There was no sign of Sophie at the campsite.
Approximately 50 feet from the tent, lodged between two boulders, investigators found a child’s backpack with faded purple straps. Inside were a crushed granola bar, a waterlogged field notebook, a small plastic flashlight, and a voice recorder.
The recorder contained three audio files. Two were indistinct. The third, 1 minute 43 seconds long, was enhanced at the Washington State Crime Lab.
In the recording, Sophie’s voice is heard.
“It’s cold. Daddy says it’s okay, but I hear it again. That whistling. It’s closer now. I think they’re walking around the trees. I can’t see them, but I know they’re there.”
A faint rhythmic whistle can be heard in the background.
In the final seconds, Sophie whispers: “It’s looking at me.” The recording ends.
No additional sounds were captured.
Part 3
Cadaver dogs were redeployed to the site. One dog, Echo, alerted uphill from the campsite. Rangers found a scrap of purple cloth snagged on brush. Fifteen feet farther was a blue hair ribbon tied around a pine branch. Twenty yards beyond that, a pink ribbon.
The spacing suggested intentional placement. Investigators followed the markers uphill to a stone outcropping at the edge of a ravine approximately 60 feet deep.
There were no signs of a fall. On the moss-covered stone were faint drag marks, as though someone had knelt and gripped the surface.
No body was found.
The ribbons were sent for forensic testing. Sophie’s DNA was present. Analysts noted that trace skin oil on one ribbon appeared more recent than expected for 16 months of exposure. The degradation pattern suggested it had been tied within weeks, not over a year earlier.
Investigators returned to the site with thermal imaging and search dogs. No additional evidence was located.
The McCrae case was officially reopened in December 2024. Daniel’s death was no longer treated as a presumed accident. His journal entries, map annotations, and avoidance of official trail registration were reevaluated.
Witness statements from prior hikers reporting unusual nighttime sounds were reviewed. The recurring detail of whistling, referenced in both Daniel’s journal and Sophie’s recording, was documented but not attributed to a specific source.
On January 4, 2025, a hiker named Morgan Dade ventured north of Eunice Lake and recorded a 9-second audio clip. The recording captured wind, silence, then a faint, high whistle.
In the final second of the video, as Morgan turned, the camera briefly revealed a single set of small barefoot footprints in fresh mud beside her own, heading uphill.
The investigation remains open. Sophie McCrae has not been located.
