Quest Haven

I remember camping near Quest Haven just outside of the small town where I spent part of my youth.
Mix together one part, a child’s imagination; one part, the legends of elder generations; mystery, adventure and several children, and this story will unfold. My grandfather would sit the grandkids down and tell us the stories of a past. A past filled with ghosts, the criminally insane, and the darkest place on earth. He said, “Take the road to the pavement’s end, and when the pavement again begins, travel no more.” He continued, “Should your venture exceed the limits, you will meet a past of Nuts and the White Lady.”
Quest Haven is a very isolated community buried in a valley of legends just west of our town. On the path leading to Quest Haven and as the trees and valley walls visually open around the road, there is a quarry for making headstones. With yielded stones on display along the roadside, the quarry sets a mood for an adventure the traveler is about to take. Just as the pavement ends is the campground my family would frequent. Due to the location beyond city limits, we could ride our dirt bikes, four wheel drives, and horses along the trails in the valley and up its walls by day. However, do not pass, where the pavement begins.
As the stories were presented to us, Quest Haven is a religious retreat with a history not to itself. The land is where the legend begins; as unconfirmed reports say, Quest Haven is the former location of an Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Distant neighbors used speak of the “Calls of the Bedlam”. Additionally, legend maintains, it is on this very land, where the Ghost of the White Lady still rides her horse in the night. A result of a murder/suicide, the story says the White Lady shall never rest until she finds her love. Since the development of a religious retreat, her sightings have decreased drastically.
One night, our small group of children decided to take the dirt road to where the pavement again begins. With trees on either side of the road, their branches stretched out offering a canopy for the road and its travelers. In the night air, we could not see the moon or even one star from the road and our flashlights lead the way through this above ground tunnel in nature. It is funny how environments like this and the imaginations of children can give life to shadows of the distance. We had decided to remain strong, for strength traveled in numbers, and no force will divert our quest, to see Quest Haven.
We came upon an iron gate, as the pavement again begins, standing ominously in the night. With a hush, we stood on the road’s side, shaking and trembling as we could hear noises not of the forest all around us. To this point, no danger fell our way; however, the warning signs were present and we could feel our hair stand on end. Out of the night air, a voice, not of our group, spoke to us to bring about our rapid escape. A quiet voice, low and monotone said, “Leave this area, and no trespassing”, immediately followed by the sound of a pump action shotgun. To this day, we are unclear if the fear originated from the sound of the voice or the shotgun, but it was true fear.
Every child has heard the legends from other children. Every child continues to hold an experience of validation to those legends. This is only one of mine.

Reach