The Creepiest Unsolved Missing Person Cases

Hello everyone and welcome back to Scary Interesting. If you're a fan of the true crime genre and disappearances in general, you probably know that there's just something about the mountains. People seem to go into them, get swallowed whole, and are simply never seen again. So in this video, we're going to go over two of these disappearances that took place in the mountains that are extremely strange and disturbing and today still unsolved. As always, viewer discretion is advised. On July 18th, 2007, Barbara Bullock plugged around the house, gathering everything she'd need for a nice summer hike in the Bitterroot Valley of Montana. The house was mostly quiet as she got herself ready and filled a backpack with snacks, water, extra clothing, and the .357 magnum pistol her husband Carl always ensured she had during her trips. At the time, Carl and Barbara were hosting Carl's cousin Donna and her boyfriend Jim from California, and if there was one thing that excited Barbara more than it was showing off the area to visitors. She'd be taking them to Bear Creek Overlook, which was an area that no matter how many times Barbara had hiked up there, always took her breath away, and she was looking forward to her guests seeing it for the first time. As she continued getting ready, she could hear the rummaging and rooting around from Jim as he got ready too. Donna had also planned on coming on the hike, but after too many drinks the night before, she decided to sleep it off instead. Meanwhile, Carl, who had seen the Bear Creek Overlook countless times, was also going to skip the hike, but he knew that Jim was in capable hands. Barbara was in great shape, and the hike up to Bear Creek Overlook Trail was well within her abilities. Once she was done packing her things, she crept into the bedroom where Carl was sleeping. He didn't even sit up when she approached, and after she told him she was taking off with Jim, Carl murmured to her that he'd take care of dinner that night, so it would be one less thing she'd have to worry about. She then smiled, and after a kiss, Barbara left the bedroom so she and Jim could depart for their hike. This was a moment Carl would replay over and over in his mind for the rest of his life. The drive to Bear Creek Overlook Trail was about 20 minutes from their home, and as they neared the trailhead parked near, they ran into an unexpected roadblock. A Forest Service crew was replacing a culvert, forcing them to park a mile short of the trailhead and continue on foot. And although the crew wasn't working at the site yet, Barbara and Jim clearly weren't the only ones with the idea of hiking that morning as they pulled up near a Chevy Blazer and parked. But either way, after gathering their things, they set off toward the trailhead. The hike ahead was about 2.5 miles and gradually climbed to an elevation of 7,000 feet, and as they walked toward the trailhead, they passed by two young men in their early 20s. The two of them were fit, tanned, and appeared to just be enjoying the summer morning in nature. Barbara and Jim paid them little mind, assuming the Blazer belonged to them, and continued up the trail. At some point during the hike, they encountered the two young men they had seen earlier at the construction site once again. This time, they chatted briefly with them before the two groups continued on their separate ways. Then, by late morning, Barbara and Jim reached the summit. The two of them then took a break, sat down for a snack, and admired the scenery. About a half an hour or so later, Barbara asked Jim if he was ready to head back, and he replied he was, so they got back up to their feet, gathered their belongings, and turned to head back down the way they came. After a few steps though, Jim stopped. Something in him just wanted to soak in one more long look at the view, so he turned back around and took it all in. This whole thing couldn't have been more than a minute, in fact it was probably more like 30 or 45 seconds, but when he turned back to follow Barbara down the trail, Jim was stunned to not see her. At first, he wasn't really concerned, maybe she had just stepped behind a rock, or wandered off the trail for a moment, or maybe she was playing a trick on him, trying to scare him. As he called out her name and heard nothing in return, however, his concern grew. The area around the overlook wasn't densely wooded, it was pretty open, with loose shale rock and steep drop-offs. It would have been difficult to nearly impossible for anyone to move around silently up there, let alone disappear without a sound, yet there was no sign of Barbara. He then walked back up the trail, calling her name and scanning the landscape for sign of movement. He returned to the overlook, retracing their steps, thinking maybe she had doubled back without telling him, but there was nothing. Barbara was simply gone. By 1.30pm, panic had really set in, so Jim hurried down the trail, reaching the construction site where the workers were now busy replacing the culvert. He then asked if anyone had seen Barbara, but none of them had. One of the workers then followed Jim back to the vehicle, hoping she might be waiting there, but she wasn't, so by 2pm, Barbara was officially reported as missing. Meanwhile, Carl was still at home finishing up a carpentry project when the phone rang. It was around 2 o'clock and even he had to admit that he wondered where Barbara and Jim were. Donna, meanwhile, had spent the last few hours working herself up into a frenzy over their absence. When he picked up the phone, the person on the other end identified themselves as a for-service officer and she asked Carl if Barbara was his wife. Immediately, he felt a shift in his gut that told him something was wrong. The officer then told him that there had been a report she was missing. Carl then froze. That didn't make sense. Barbara had only planned to be gone for a few hours. She was also an experienced hiker and she knew that trail like the back of her hand. Carl actually even blurted out no way in response to the news. He just couldn't believe that his wife had gone missing on such an easy, well-worn trail. He then immediately jumped in his truck and started the 20-mile drive to Bear Creek Overlook Trailhead, certain that this was just a big misunderstanding. But deep down, a darker thought gnawed at him. What if something terrible had happened? By the time he arrived at the trailhead, search efforts were already beginning. Jim was also there, rattled and insisting he had no idea what had happened. He kept repeating that she was right there next to him, maybe 20 or 30 feet away from him when he turned around to get another look at the view. Obviously, Carl struggled to make sense of it all, but still, he had to remain confident in Barbara and believe that this was all some sort of mistake that would make itself known soon. Within hours, dozens of people spread out across the area calling Barbara's name looking for any sign of movement, clothing, or footprints. The search included law enforcement, search and rescue teams, volunteers, neighbors, and friends. Jim also walked around blowing a whistle in hopes that Barbara could make her way toward the sound. Specialized search and rescue dogs were also brought in. They sniffed the ground, circling the overlook, the trail, and the surrounding slopes, but they never seemed to pick up any scent related to Barbara. Helicopters equipped with infrared technology also scanned the area, hoping to detect a heat signature. If Barbara was hurt, unconscious, or even hiding, the technology should have picked something up, but it didn't. Hours then turned into a full day, and the temperature dropped as night fell, but Carl refused to leave. He stood at the overlook, staring into the dark wilderness, listening for any sound that might tell him his wife was still out there. By midnight, search teams urged him to go home and rest, and he didn't want to, but he had no choice. The next morning, though, he was back at the overlook at sunrise, joined by more search teams, more volunteers, and more law enforcement. But days would pass and no one would find anything. It was as if Barbara had stepped off the trail and vanished into a void, if she was ever there in the first place. One of the more perplexing elements of the case was the presence of the two unidentified hikers Barbara and Jim encountered that morning. They had walked through the Forest Service construction site, chatted briefly with the workers, then continued up the trail ahead of them. At some point along the hike, Barbara and Jim encountered the pair again and exchanged a few words before moving on. By Jim's account, it was an unremarkable interaction, but after Barbara vanished, investigators were eager to track down the two men, hoping that they could provide even the smallest clue as to what happened. Unfortunately though, despite widespread coverage of the case and a $10,000 reward for anyone who could identify the two hikers, the men never came forward. Authorities didn't necessarily believe that they had harmed Barbara, but they were potential witnesses. If they had seen her that morning, it would confirm that she was still on the trail at the time Jim last saw her. Because with no other witnesses, Jim's account of that morning was the only version of events investigators had to work with, even if there was no reason to believe Jim was lying. He was cooperative, answering all their questions, and providing a detailed timeline of the day. After returning to California, he even kept in contact with law enforcement and never refused a conversation. At some point, he even offered to take a polygraph test. Simultaneously though, some people found Jim's story difficult to believe. Could Barbara really have vanished in the brief 45 seconds or so that he had turned his back? Wouldn't he have hurt something, or was it possible she had fallen? Investigators didn't think so, because again, the area around the overlook was open and surrounded by a loose shale, where a slip would have likely left disturbed ground, a slide path, or at the very least some kind of evidence that she had been there, but there was nothing. If Jim was telling the truth, then something extraordinary had happened on that mountain. So after the initial chaos of the search, and after scent dogs had been pulled from the trail, and the helicopters had stopped scanning the wilderness with infrared, Carl was left alone with his grief. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and still there were no answers. There was no sign of Barbara, and no clues to follow. In the immediate aftermath, as you might imagine, Carl barely ate or slept. He lost 35 pounds that summer, haunted by the nagging, impossible question of how his wife could have simply vanished. And he replayed everything in his mind, the morning she left, the way she stood in the doorway, and the last words they exchanged. He turned over every possible scenario, wondering if there had been some sign he missed, or some warning he had ignored. To make things worse, investigators, desperate for answers, looked into him as they would any spouse in a missing person's case, and they asked him pointed questions, pushing him for details. At one point, a detective even suggested that he already knew what happened to Barbara, and the accusation stung. Carl had nothing to hide. All he knew was that she went hiking that Wednesday morning and never came back. In the years that followed, Barbara's case faded from the headlines, but Carl never stopped searching for answers. Every day he would look across the valley from his kitchen window, staring toward the Bear Creek Overlook, the place where she had last stood. On clear days, he could even see it from the house they once shared. Barbara has never been found, and Carl never got the answers he so desperately needed. He did eventually move on with his life, and even remarried, but in late November of 2021, Carl passed away at the age of 80 from pancreatic cancer, without ever knowing what happened on that fateful July day in 2007. Silver Plume, Colorado is the kind of town that you could completely miss while driving through it if you blinked at just the right time. It's just a speck along Interstate 70, and it's tucked deep into the folds of the Rocky Mountains. It's history stretches back to the silver moon of the late 19th century, when miners flooded in, hoping to strike it rich. The silver crash of the 1890s, however, drained the town of its purpose, and most people left, leaving just 200 people living there by the 1980s. Interestingly, the town also sits wedged in a valley between towering canyon walls. As a result, in the winter, the north side of town only sees two and a half hours of sunlight a day, and the south side fares even worse. There are entire weeks when the sun never touches the By 1987, Tom Young had spent nearly two decades in Silver Plume, living a quiet, solitary existence in the shadow of Pendleton Mountain. He was an Army Special Forces veteran and former high school teacher from Arvada, Colorado, and he lived alone on the south side of the mountain with his dog, Gus, and he led a life of simple days. He ran his small bookstore, keeping to himself and navigating life in a town where everyone knew everyone. And on September 7th, 1987, Tom closed his bookstore for the day, locked the door, and At first, no one thought much of this. Tom had mentioned in passing that he was planning a trip to Europe, and a long absence wasn't out of character for someone as reclusive as Tom. As the weeks stretched on, however, that excuse began to unravel. He didn't say when he was leaving, nor had he told anyone his itinerary, so concern began to grow in his absence. A person couldn't just disappear without a trace, especially not from a town where every movement was noticed. By the time suspicion rose enough to check on him, three weeks had already passed with no signs of Tom. No sightings, no clues, just an empty bookstore, a missing man, and a town left with more questions than answers. The summer of 1988 then brought a new face to Silver Plume, one who was in many ways the complete opposite of Tom. Keith Reinhardt was not a recluse, but a storyteller, a man drawn to people, conversation, and adventure. He was a 48-year-old sports reporter from Chicago, and he had spent decades writing about the triumphs and heartbreaks of professional athletes, but as his 50th birthday loomed, he was restless and hungry for a different kind of challenge. He wanted to push himself physically and creatively to test his limits before middle age had a chance to temper them. So Silver Plume, with its rugged landscape and quiet charm, seemed like the perfect place for reinvention. Keith then arranged a three-month sabbatical from the newspaper, and his plan was to use that time off to get in shape by climbing mountains, conquer his fear of heights, and most importantly, write a novel. Now, he wasn't entirely alone in this endeavor. One of his oldest friends, Ted Parker, had been living in Silver Plume for years, running a small cafe on Main Street. The two had grown up across the street from each other, and their friendship spanned four decades, and that's likely how Keith heard of the town in the first place. Once he got there, to fully immerse himself in the experience, Keith decided to open a small antique shop for the summer, hoping it catered to the tourists who passed through town. The space he would end up renting sat directly across the street from a place called Ted's Cafe. What Keith didn't know at first was that that same space had once been home to Tom's Bookstore, the very same place the missing man had locked up for the last time before vanishing into thin air. When Keith learned about Tom's disappearance, it was as if something clicked inside of him. He became fascinated, maybe even possessed, with the mystery. Much like the rest of Silver Plume, he had questions, and what started as a passing curiosity quickly turned into something deeper. Keith then began speaking to locals, piecing together whatever fragments of information he could about Tom's last days, and the more he learned, the more convinced he became that there was a story here that needed to be told. And so, as he settled into life in Silver Plume, Keith started writing. His novel's main character, named Guy Gypsum, was a blend of himself and Tom, a man searching for meaning drawn into the pull of an unsolved mystery. And soon enough, Keith's family couldn't help but notice how consumed he'd become by Tom's story. His daughter, Tiffany, noted that writers often seek to live the story they're telling to understand it on a deeper level. Keith, however, may have taken that too far. For nearly 10 months, Tom's disappearance had remained a troubling mystery, but one that Silver Plume had gradually learned to live with. Partly because the town had no shortage of transient residents, people who came seeking solitude, reinvention, or an escape from the past. Some then left just as suddenly as they arrived without explanation or goodbyes. Maybe Tom was one of those people, maybe he had gone to Europe as he claimed, or maybe he had simply walked away from his life, leaving behind nothing but an empty bookstore and unanswered questions. The mountains, however, were about to reveal a massive secret they had been keeping for almost a year. On July 31st, 1988, two hunters trekking across Republican Mountain, just a mile and a half outside Silver Plume, made a grisly discovery. In a secluded, rocky stretch of terrain, they stumbled upon human remains, and beside them lay the skeletal body of a dog. It was Tom and his loyal companion, Gus, and both of them had been shot in the head. A revolver was also found nearby, along with tattered pieces of green tarp, suggesting that at some point, the bodies might have been deliberately concealed. Whether this was by Tom himself or by someone else, however, was a question that would never be definitively answered. The subsequent investigation uncovered a crucial detail, though. Tom had purchased a gun just four days before he vanished. To authorities, this was enough to close the case. The Clear Creek County Sheriff's Department ruled that Tom was the one responsible, and the coroner's office agreed, but not everyone was so convinced. If Tom had gone into the mountains intending to end things, why had he taken his dog with him? Also, why were there the remnants of a tarp at the scene, as though an attempt had been made to cover up the remains? And why had no one in town reported hearing gunshots that day? So, officially, the mystery of Tom's disappearance was solved, but unofficially, it was just beginning. The discovery of Tom's remains should have brought closure to Silver Plume, but instead, it cast a darker shadow over the town. And for Keith, it was more than just a grim revelation, it was an escalation. He had spent the summer immersing Tom's story, weaving it into his novel, and retracing the man's footsteps, and now, just as he was getting closer to understanding Tom, the story had reached its tragic end. Then something strange happened. One week after Tom's body was discovered, on August 7th, Keith spent the afternoon strolling through Silver Plume, chatting with locals, and closing up his antique shop, but there was something different about his behavior. He had made a point of telling several people that he was planning to climb Pendleton Mountain, which is a looming peak that had towered over Tom's empty bookstore for nearly a year. Most people shrugged this off though, not only was Keith afraid of heights, but he also disliked climbing alone. Besides that, it was already late in the afternoon, too late to begin a strenuous hike that could take up to 6 hours round trip. No one believed Keith was serious. At 4pm, Keith walked into Ted's cafe and told Ted about his hiking plans. Then, in a tone that was almost playful, he added, quote, if I don't come back, call on the rescue, end quote. Ted just brushed this off as one of Keith's dramatic flourishes. After all, Keith was a writer, always thinking in big cinematic moments. Then at 4.30pm, Keith was last seen walking toward the base of Pendleton Mountain. He had no backpack, jacket, food, or flashlight, just the flannel shirt, blue jeans, and tennis shoes he was wearing. And then, that night, he never returned. At first, again, no one panicked. Maybe he had spent more time in the mountain than expected, or maybe he had turned around and gotten a late start heading back, but as the hours passed, an uneasiness settled over Silver Plume. By morning, Ted remembered Keith's parting words and made the call to authorities. The moment it was received, rescue teams descended on Silver Plume. A man had vanished into the mountains and with each passing hour, the odds of finding him dwindled. And so, as a result, the search effort was immediate and aggressive. Authorities knew that if Keith was lost somewhere on Pendleton Mountain, he wouldn't have much time before the elements took their toll. And beyond that, the mountain itself was not an easy task. Rising nearly 12,500 feet, or 3,810 meters, Pendleton was no casual hike, and Keith didn't seem to be prepared for such an undertaking. The terrain had no marked trail and was steep, jagged, and riddled with hazards that could swallow a man whole. Loose rock shifted underfoot with every step, making footing treacherous. Thick vegetation also concealed deep crevices, hidden mineshafts, and sudden drop-offs. Even for an experienced hiker, it was dangerous. For someone afraid of heights, alone, and without proper gear, it was a death trap. By the second day, the search had escalated into the largest rescue operation in Colorado history. More than 125 people scoured the mountain on foot, train dogs combed the landscape, helicopters circled overhead, but there was nothing. No footprints, no discarded clothing, and no signs that Keith had ever been there at all. By August 14th, after seven relentless days of searching, authorities faced a harsh reality. Keith was gone, and the search was officially called off. What haunted rescuers most was not that they hadn't found Keith, it was that they hadn't found anything at all, no clues whatsoever. And his disappearance left Silver Plume shaken. It's not unprecedented for a person to go missing in the mountains, but it was extremely strange that a man went missing while fixated on the disappearance of another. And the eerie parallels between Keith and Tom's stories only made things stranger. Both men had run businesses in the same storefront, both had disappeared under unusual circumstances, and both had left behind lingering questions. And with no body, no evidence, and no definitive answers, speculation ran wild. One of the more intriguing theories suggested that Keith had deliberately vanished, orchestrating his own disappearance in an attempt to experience the very mystery he'd been writing about. And his unfinished novel added fuel to this idea. On Keith's computer, investigators found that the last words he had written were, quote, Guy Gypsum changed into some hiking boots and donned a heavy flannel shirt. He understood Tom now and his motivation. Guy closed the door, then walked off towards the lush, shadowless Colorado forest above, end quote. These words almost read like a prophecy, and to many seemed deliberate. Then, adding to the intrigue, next to his computer lay a newspaper with the headline reading Tom Young's Body Found. People have suggested that maybe Keith had become too entangled in Tom's story. Maybe his need to live the story pushed him to the extreme. Understandably, his family dismissed this idea outright. Keith was a dedicated father, a loving husband, and a man with no reason to abandon his life. His wife also insisted he was an optimist, not someone prone to despair. If anything, Keith was a man searching for meaning, not escape. So another theory suggests that Keith and Tom may have stumbled on something they weren't supposed to see. There were some inconsistencies in Tom's case. Like for example, despite how his death was ruled, ballistics could never confirm that the bullet that killed him came from his own gun. Was it possible that they had uncovered something that cost them their lives? Keith's son is thought to have believed that his father had been silenced, that the novel, the research, and the questions brought Keith too close to a secret someone wanted to keep buried. However, police considered this possibility but found no evidence of foul play. There were no threats, no suspicious individuals, and nothing in Keith's belongings that suggested he had been investigating anything but Tom's disappearance. And so the simplest explanation for Keith's disappearance is also the most frustrating. It's the idea that Keith had made a reckless decision, gone up the mountain alone, and succumbed to the elements. If he had fallen into a mine shaft or deep crevice, his body might never be recovered. Even documentary filmmakers who later studied the case concluded that Keith had likely died in the mountain and that his remains simply hadn't been found yet. But even still, there's something about the way he had gone that made it feel like he had simply vanished into thin air. So, even decades later, the disappearances of Tom and Keith remain unsolved. One body was found, one was not, one case was closed, and the other remains open-ended. And yet, for many, neither case feels truly complete. The strange coincidences, the unanswered questions, and the eerie parallels between the two men have kept speculation alive long after search parties packed up and left the mountains. Silver Plume, meanwhile, remains much the same as it was when Tom and Keith walked its streets. If Keith had been trying to understand Tom's fate, he succeeded in the worst way possible. Whether by accident, intention, or something darker, the mountains of Silver Plume had claimed them both.