Isle Royale — This is a place to experience silence. No phone signal. No engines. No updates. Just the slow rhythm of boots on wet dirt, loons calling across still water, and the whisper of your own breath as the miles roll beneath you. But on the night of June 8, the island’s silence was broken. Those at Desor South campground heard screams.
I was on the ferry back to the mainland on the day the tragedy unfolded. As I was leaving, feeling full and grateful for the kind of clarity only Isle Royale can give, others were heading into one of the most disturbing nights the island has ever seen. That disconnection felt like safety. But it’s clear that in the wrong moment, it can feel like danger.
What began as scattered reports on Reddit has now been confirmed by the National Park Service: Two campers were found deceased at Desor South on June 8. The FBI and National Park Service are conducting a joint investigation. As details continue to emerge, a disturbing picture is forming—not just of a tragic night, but of how fragile even the most remote peace can be.
The first public mention of the incident came from Reddit user “redblackrider,” who posted late on the night of June 8 in the r/IsleRoyale subreddit—with over 11,000 members—asking if anyone else had heard the commotion at Desor South.
That simple question sparked what would evolve into a sprawling investigation. Crucially, redblackrider’s post appeared before the National Park Service released any public statement. When NPS did issue its first report, it described the location only as a “rural camp.” The early timing and specificity of redblackrider’s post added credibility to his account, which aligned closely with what would later be confirmed in official updates.
Redblackrider later wrote that the FBI had reached out to interview him directly about what he witnessed that night.
Hikers and campers began sharing unnerving experiences from that night. Redblackrider described hearing the latrine door slam at Desor South before the yelling started. The screaming was loud, relentless, and filled with violent threats and cries of self-harm. It was enough to push multiple campers to pack up their gear and night-hike miles out of camp.
“We hiked out at 11 p.m. toward Windigo,” redblackrider posted. “We could still hear the screaming half a mile down the trail. I got to a high point and called 911.”
Another user’s girlfriend, who was hiking nearby and had a satellite phone, reported that park staff evacuated the area the next day and closed the camp entirely. The nearest alternative camp was six miles away.
The timestamps and details provided by these hikers line up closely with the official report issued by the National Park Service. It’s a reminder of how digital breadcrumbs—texts, forum posts, satellite pings—can piece together an unfolding crisis even from a wilderness with no cell towers.
Rangers reportedly began their response shortly after the emergency calls came in, hiking through the night to reach Desor South. This swift action was prompted by multiple reports of a serious disturbance, and ultimately, the discovery of two deceased campers. The logistics of responding on foot in such terrain are considerable—long miles, limited resources, and no quick way in or out.
According to the official National Parks Service report, the bodies of two campers were discovered following these reports. The FBI became involved immediately, a rare move that suggests the potential for criminal investigation. The deceased have since been identified, though details about their identities, cause of death, and relationship to each other remain limited as the investigation continues.
The incident occurred during the early weeks of Isle Royale’s summer season, when temperatures can still dip below freezing and trail conditions vary dramatically. Campers often rely on satellite communicators or hope for a signal from higher elevations.
People go to Isle Royale for a ritual disconnect. It’s a place where strangers greet you on trails not out of politeness, but because out here, each person matters more. The island encourages self-reliance, but it also reminds you that humans are a resource.
One hiker said they could hear the screaming long after they left camp. It carried through the woods, through the dark, and likely still echoes in the minds of those who were there. That sound has also now rippled far beyond the island’s edge—through forums, satellite texts, and now national headlines.
But Isle Royale can’t care about headlines. The moss keeps growing. The moose keep moving. And the wind keeps sweeping through empty campsites.
For those who were there, and those who love the island from afar, it’s a reminder: Silence is sacred, but it isn’t always safe. And even on the quietest island in America, you’re never as alone—or as connected—as you think.
Landen Taylor is a musician and explorer living in Bay City. Follow him on Instagram @landoisliving.
