Halloween is fast approaching and you still don’t know what to dress up as? Have no fear. We came up with a handful of low-lift costumes that are inspired by the stories that have made waves in outdoor media this year.

Skeleton Waiting for Affordable Mountain-Town Housing

We came across a waitlist application for an affordable housing development in Aspen, Colorado this week. The wait time to access housing at a reasonable cost in one of our favorite ski towns? A skeleton, for its turn to nab an affordable unit, would be a perfect Halloween costume as you lobby your local town council to do something, anything, to solve the housing crisis. Worst case scenario, you’ll get confused for a . —Jake Stern, digital editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř

A Burning Man Mud Zombie

If you’ve got extra festival wear lying around and don’t mind getting messy, you can whip up an easy 2023ĚýBurning Man-attendee costume. Pull together your strappiest, most eclectic Black Rock City-inspired outfit, tie plastic bags around your shoes, and dab a in strategic places. Optional accessory: CVS bag full of poop. —Maren Larsen, senior podcast producerĚý

A False and Actual Summit

This year, the grandfather of high-altitude climbing Reinhold Messner had his world record for being the first to climb the 8,000-meter peaks revoked by The Guinness Book of World Records. A German researcher examined Messner’s photographs from 26,545-foot Annapurna and determined that he hadn’t hit the highest point, instead climbing to what was considered the high point at the time. This is a good one for couples with a big height difference. All you have to do is wear white (and maybe some grays and blacks). Bonus points if you paint mountains on cardboard boxes and wear them around like sandwich boards.—Abigail Barronian, senior editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř

The Scariest Thing We Can Imagine

Dress up as a mega-ski pass . Wear royal blue and yellow for Ikon, or navy and burnt orange for Epic, and layer lanyards and past season passes around your neck. This is a good partner costume for exes, frenemies, and other duos who sort of hate each other. Don’t forget to add one of those to signify how much you’re worth.

Scarier still: dress as a single-day, (I have goosebumps just thinking about it). Get creative: maybe you wear a and . Or just wear your ski clothes with all the pockets turned inside out. Carry around a mirror so you can look yourself in the eye, and ask…why? —Jamie Aranoff, digital editor, SKI

Otter 841Ěý

Our favorite kleptomaniac is still on the loose. To pay tribute to this sea otter—who sowed chaos in Santa Cruz last summer by stealing surfboards and upending kayaks—wear all brown, (close enough), and a . Draw on a black nose and long white whiskers. Carry around a surfboard—bonus points if it has a chunk bitten out of it. You could also do a “revenge of nature” group costume with a few and . Better yet, dress your little one up as Otter 841’s , who was spotted by Santa Cruz photographer Mark Woodward earlier this week. —Isabella Rosario, associate editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř

A Cairn, and a National Parks Service–Approved Cairn Kicker

In July, Yosemite National Park when it posted a video of trail workers knocking down unauthorized cairns built by visitors. While commenters praised their actions, other parks like Canyonlands quickly jumped in to ask visitors to leave cairns—which can be valuable navigational tools on hardpacked, unsigned trails—alone. Which side of the cairn debate do you land on? Let the world know with this partner costume. Dress yourself up as a big ol’ stack of paper-maché rocks. Then, have your friend or significant other put on a National Park Service uniform and periodically push you down (or spare you for the night). —Adam Roy, executive editor, Backpacker

The Canadian Wildfire Season

This year, Canada saw a whopping 45.7 million acres catch fire, which is roughly nine times their average. Smoke from the blazes blanketed places as far away as New York City in a Blade Runner-esque orange-brown haze.Ěý To put that enormous number into perspective, the says that’s roughly equivalent to the total acreage burned from 2015 to 2022 combined. Pay an irreverent tribute to a difficult season as it winds down. You’ll need a cheap Christmas tree costume and a vape or a pack of cigarettes: Simply remove the tinsel, star and other decorations from the costume until your tree is au naturel, stride into the party, and chain-smoke all night. (Kidding!) —A.R.

A Pit Toilet and a Shit-Covered Hiker

Go for both funny and scary this Halloween and dress as the hiker who followed her cell phone into a pit toilet. (An incident that has happened at least twice in the last two years.) If you have a partner, one of you can dress as the pit toilet, and the other can be the hiker. All the toilet will need is a large cardboard box with a cut-out for their face (can be dressed up with paint or markers to your liking) and their partner’s phone to carry around all night. The hiker can wear normal outdoorsy clothes smeared with mud or brown fabric paint. You and your partner will be the shit—pun intended. —Kelly Klein, Associate Gear Editor

The Fattest Bear

This year, consider fishing for treats as the Queen of the Katmai National Park Fat Bears: . All you’ll need is a pair of rounded bear ears (preferably blonde), a salmon cutout or plushie, and a regal paper crown. Make it a couple’s costume by having your hibernation mate dress as the salmon, and add cubs if you’ve got them—Grazer is known for being a particularly ferocious mama. —M.L.

A Yellowstone Touron and a Bison

At Yellowstone National Park, is now as classic a sight as Old Faithful. To dress up as a tourist, gather a handful of slightly dweeby but totally classic outdoor gear items: a broad-brimmed hat, cargo pants (extra points if they zip off into shorts), and a UV-resistant button down shirt. Your partner just needs little horns and a brown fleece top and viola, they’re a beleaguered bison. Throughout the night, the tourist should be encroaching on their wildlife companion’s personal bubble, taking as many pictures as they can. When the bison’s fed up, they can tackle the touron. For inspiration, we recommend . —Miyo McGinn, assistant editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř

A Thru-Hiking Family

If you’re looking for an easy group costume that can accommodate any number of people, we’d suggest going as a “,” the thru-hiking term for the small band of fellow wayfarers that the long trail together. For that genuine eau de backpacker, abstain from showering from now until Halloween. Otherwise, just arrive at the function with your crew wearing your silliest, grimiest clothes, address each other exclusively by nicknames, and eat candy like you’re about to hike a couple thousand miles.—M.M.

Two Dead Birds

Hear us out: one person dresses in head-to-toe Arc’teryx, our favorite dead bird (whose price point may strike fear in your heart). The other person dresses as the formerly-known-as-Twitter bird that once kept us informed and entertained. Now known as X, the website is devolving into a Tartarus of and —very spooky. Bid the platform adieu with a cute couples costume for outdoorsy folks—or make it a troika and have another friend dress as a stone. —J.S.

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If Halloween is the best night of the year for kids who love candy, then the day after is when grown-ups with a sweet tooth hit the jackpot. Overnight, entire aisles of sweets get marked down, selling for 50 to 90 percent off. It’s a great day to stock up on hiking fuel. And this year, I’ll be stocking up on Swedish Fish.

My love for Swedish Fish as a backpacking snack started on theĚý, a weekend-long group hike the brand organized along the spine of the Rockies in Colorado. At aid stations along the route, tables brimmed with the loose Scandanavian-themed gummies. I grabbed them by the handful (the pre-Covid world was a different place), munching on them across passes and at water breaks.

Now, on long backpacking trips, trail runs,Ěý, or basically any other adventure, Swedish Fish are my secret weapon. Why? Let me break down why I’m raiding my local grocery store for these—and why you should too.

They’re Pure Sugar

Granted, this isn’t particularly unique—most candy is all sugar, after all, and that’s not usually something you brag about when you’re talking nutrition. But when you need energy, and fast, taking a hit of simple carbohydrates is a quick way to get it, hence all of the energy gels and blocks at your local REI. But not all sugars are the same: As our friends at şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍřĚýoutlined in a recent article on energy gels, research suggests a combination of glucose and fructose can boost athletes’ endurance without causing tummy troubles. One of the main ingredients in Swedish Fish is invert sugar, which is—you guessed it—a combination of glucose and fructose. No wonder these gummies go down so smooth.

They’re Cheap

Even when they’re not on sale, Swedish Fish are a fraction of the price of purpose-made energy chews.ĚýĚýretail for about 92 cents an ounce; Swedish Fish, about 34 cents, are comparable to other candies. Add in that post-Halloween discount, and you can stock up for a season’s worth of backpacking trips all at once. (Just make sure to keep them in an airtight container; no one likes a leathery, dried-out gummy.)

They’re Covered in Wax

OK, bear with me on this one: This is the best thing about Swedish Fish. Like a lot of candies, they’re covered in carnauba wax, a palm-derived substance that candymakers use to give their creations that appealing gloss that consumers love. Thanks to that, you can keep them almost anywhere without creating a sticky mess: I’ve decanted them into my shell’s chest pockets on ski tours, where they stayed just warm enough to be edible, and stashed them in my hipbelt pockets on backpacking trips. As long as the weather’s not hot enough to melt them, they won’t pick up dust or crumbs from other food like gummy bears do. (Do pick somewhere reasonably clean, though.) Bonus: No need for single-serving plastic means less waste, and less microtrash to carry out.

So keep your M&Ms and your Skittles: I’ll be boosting my blood sugar with a schoolful of those fruity, chewy candies on my hikes this fall and winter. Try it, and you might just find yourself going fishing for them too.

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With Halloween coming up, we thought it might be interesting to get the members of our şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Run team together and ask: “What’s the spookiest thing that’s ever happened to you on a run?” What we pulled together are some of the oddest, scariest stories we’ve ever heard. Cinch your laces tight, because these spooky running stories are so creepy, they might make you jump right out of your shoes.Ěý

Shaw-Shaking in My Running Shoes

My family is originally from Mansfield, Ohio, so I try to make it back to town—with a population of 40,000—annually for its most famous race, the 7K. The race’s start and finish line is in front of The Ohio State Reformatory, a now abandoned reformatory that, in the 1890s, housed some of the most notorious inmates. For that reason, it’s known to be haunted with prisoners who died within its walls. It’s also the site where the movie Shawshank Redemption, with Morgan Freeman and Tim Robin, was filmed.Ěý

After the Hustle, participants are encouraged to walk through the reformatory, which has been kept in its spooky, disheveled state for historical tours. After I ran the 2018 race, I was walking through its rows of ancient-looking jail cells when I decided to poke my head inside one of them. The cell was tiny and terribly rusted, with nothing but a toilet, sink, and bunk bed frame. (All the items, it should be noted, were original to the reformatory.) The space was so crammed, there was barely enough room to spread my arms out. As I was staring around the cell, the door slowly creaked closed behind me —unprompted.Ěý Though it (thankfully) didn’t lock, when I went to grab the cell door and pull it back open, the bed made a sort of groaning sound and shook, like someone was climbing down from the top bunk. I booked it out of there, running faster than I had on the 7k course. A PR, for sure. – Mallory Arnold, Associate Editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍřĚý

An Apologetic Stab in the BackĚý

A few years ago, I was running in Santa Cruz, California, along a five-mile paved bike pathĚý that follows a coastal tributary inland from the Pacific Ocean. It was an average day, cobalt skies with a touch of salt in the air. People were walking and biking on the path. I had my earbuds in, catching up on the daily news, when I started descending under an overpass bridge and through to the other side. As I did, I noted a curious-looking man standing in the darkness on the side of the path. He had a strange look on his face—not anything sinister, but like he was up to something mischievous. I popped my earbuds out and nodded in acknowledgment as I passed, catching a bit of madness in his eyes. Again, nothing particularly threatening, but something I can only describe as…sorcerous.Ěý

Goosebumps immediately pocked over my arms as I picked up the pace and ran through the dark to the light at the other end. And right as I went to reinsert my earbuds, I felt this searing pain in my upper back, as if someone had stabbed me with a small blade or ninja star. I made an audible gasp and reached to yank whatever it was out of my back, but found nothing. No blade, no blood. I stopped to look behind me and saw that strange wizard man remained in the shadows, mumbling something like an apology and waving his hands in the air with his head drawn low. It was as if he’d used a magic power to throw something sharp at me as I passed, and that he was ashamed for exercising his powers on a stranger running past. It was quite possibly the creepiest thing that’s ever happened to me on a run. – Nicholas Triolo, Senior Editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Run & Trail RunnerĚý

Ignoring the Omens

The week before my wedding, the universe sent some interesting omens. A bat flew into our apartment and circled the bedroom as I hid under the covers. A kitchen cabinet collapsed in the middle of the night. My dad accidentally took five Ambiens instead of one and, as he spent half a day sleeping and hallucinating, we all thought he’d had a stroke.Ěý

Finally, I went on a run around Harvey’s Lake in Vermont to blow off a little steam and I saw two deer trotting down a dirt road. How adorable, I thought—finally a good omen. Then one of the deer started chasing me. It was a feint that only lasted a few steps but it certainly got me to pick up the pace. I guess these were good omens because, eight years and two kids later, we’re still going strong, but did the omens have to be so creepy? – Alex Tzelnic, contributor, Trail Runner and şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Run

A Phantom BearĚý

I grew up in Bucksport, a small rural town on the coast of Maine. One summer, when I was in high school, my family spent weekends in a camping trailer farther inland. I was putting in summer miles for cross country and, one Saturday evening, I waited until nearly dusk before changing for an easy five-miler. The route, on a narrow two-lane road, first took me alongside a big blueberry field that sloped down to a lake. Earlier that day, my family and I had seen a black bear lumbering down the field, so I kept an eye out for any movement in the scattered boulders. Soon, however, the road entered a tunnel of thick trees that quickly swallowed the remaining light. I could only see enough to stay on the road, but everything in my peripheral vision was murky. It didn’t take long before I saw movement and was certain I could hear crashing in the underbrush. But everytime I stopped and looked around, I was alone.Ěý

Less than a mile into the woods, my pounding heartbeat filled my ears, freeing my imagination to hear even more. Or was it imagination? I stopped and listened, and was sure there was something big just inside the wall of trees. I turned around and headed home at a sprint, hearing a bear’s grunts and heaving breaths, and seeing a charging dark mass with every glance over my shoulder. There was more light when I got back to the field, but not enough to dispel the phantom bear on my tail. I didn’t slow down until I was back at the trailer, where I started to feel silly in the silence around me as my breathing and heart rate came down.Ěý

In the middle of the night, though, I heard a bear again, and felt the trailer rock as the animal pushed against the side. I figured I was imagining it again, but in the morning my mother said, unsolicited, that she had felt the trailer rocking in the night too. You can be sure I ran in daylight on future trips north for the rest of the summer. — Jonathan Beverly, Senior Running Editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Run & Trail Runner

A Standoff with a Mountain Lion

A few summers ago in Boulder, Colorado, I decided to wait out a late afternoon thunderstorm before venturing out for a long trail run, thinking I’d be able to finish my route just before sunset. After three hours on the trail, the sun was already setting on my way up to the top of Mount Sanitas, but the fading golden light was delicious as I crested the summit and began running down the east ridge. I figured I was the last one on the trail for that day, but I wasn’t concerned about that until my visibility waned and it became dark enough that I had to dig the headlamp out of my pack.

As I continued to run down the technical trail, I spotted several pairs of silvery eyeballs staring at me through the darkness. I was quietly calmed by this, because it meant there were many deer lurking nearby. But then, as I got to the top of the wide, smooth path of the Sanitas Valley Trail, I stopped cold in my tracks when I caught a set of large, widely spaced green eyes reflecting in the light of my headlamp about 25 yards away.Ěý

As I watched the beady eyes looking back at me, I made out the outline of its body and was immediately terrified. I surmised that it wasn’t a dog because it was standing off-trail in the brush and it was as alone as I was. Instantly, I felt an uncanny tension coursing through my body.. I had seen a mountain lion once before on a Boulder trail, but that was in full daylight during an early morning run with a couple of friends.

I knew that if I panicked and began running, it could trigger the lion’s instinct to chase and I’d be doomed. I looked around with the hope of finding a branch or something to defend myself, but the only thing that came into view was a stick only slightly larger than a drinking straw. I turned my head back to the cat and its eyes disappeared momentarily as it moved in cartoon-like quickness along an adjacent ridge, then reappeared, turning its gaze back toward me.Ěý

As I slowly walked backwards down the trail, I felt a jolt of adrenaline and my heart rate elevated as if I was in the middle of a hard interval workout on the track. Instinctually, I began chattering loudly while waving and clapping my hands over my head, hoping to discourage any interest this predator might have in me. I must have sounded like a delusional, dehydrated ultrarunner speaking in tongues after arriving at a middle-of-the-night aid station, but by doing this I was able to widen the gap between me and the feline.Ěý

Within a few moments, I saw the lion turn away from me and bound up the trail in the opposite direction. Still terror-stricken, I turned and ran the final 400 meters down the trailhead at an all-out sprint pace, the awful sensation of being chased still lingering. Although I was finally out of harm’s way, I kept turning around to reassure myself as I ran the final mile on the roads all the way back to my house. – Brian Metzler, Contributing Editor, şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř

The post Our Editors Recount Their Spooky Running Stories appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Some people listen to music when they run. Others prefer podcasts. Some even demand silence. But for the Halloween-crazed audiophiles among us, there may be nothing better than settling into a run listening to a scary-as-hell horror podcast.

Fortunately, there are some exceptional options from which to choose.

Whether you’re trying not to think about your burning legs or lungs, or you need something to keep your mind occupied during long runs, scary podcasts can be great to listen to. We’ve compiled a list of our favorite skin-crawling podcasts that are so scary that you might find yourself checking over your shoulder every once in a while. Settle into your stride, turn up the volume on your phone, and prepare to be spooked.

If You Like: Drama, Gore, and Guts

Listen to:

For those who like theatrics (cue the claps of thunder) and spooky narrators, this is your pod. Each No Sleep Podcast episode is a collection of horror-themed short fiction stories read aloud by a team of voice actors. This pod is not for the faint of heart, though, as some stories can get a little gruesome—we’re talking bones breaking, flesh-eating monsters, and contorting phantoms.

Average Episode Time: 1:09

Favorite Episode:

If You Like: Creepy History

Listen to:

Sometimes truth is more frightening than fiction, and that’s proven to be true in this podcast, Lore. Each episode explores dark folklore and the truth that’s buried within these tall tales. From pirates to witches to monsters to famous haunted sites, Lore is both interesting and goosebump-inducing, a great listen for those who think the scariest things in life come from historical fact.

Average Episode Time: 30 minutes

Favorite Episode:

If You Like: First-Person Narratives

Listen to:

For those of us who scroll through thread for hours, this podcast might scratch the horror itch. Creepy is packed with stories submitted by listeners, as the podcast host eerily tells us before every episode, so it’s not 100 percent certain that these are fictional narratives. These first-person accounts are chilling-to-the-bone, especially when you think about whether or not they’re true. We can only hope not.

Average Episode Time: 28-90 minutes

Favorite Episode:

If You Like: Personality and Conspiracies

Listen to:

The Last Podcast on The Left sits at no. 80 on Spotify’s top 100 podcasts and covers all kinds of spookiness from serial killers to demons to cults. Hosts Marcus Parks and Henry Zebrowski keep things upbeat with their funny personalities, but they balance it with conversation around conspiracy, folklore, and freaky facts.

Average Episode Time: 1:45

Favorite Episode:

If You Like: True Crime

Listen to:

What’s scarier than true crime? This Discovery+ podcast organizes their episodes in seasons, each one focusing on a different serial killer and the steps to tracking them down. A blend of true firsthand accounts and deep-reporting, Unraveled comes with a warning for those who are afraid of the real, raw, and terrifying things that can happen just by walking down the street.

Average Episode Time: 45 minutes

Favorite Episode: Eight

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