The first thing you need to understand about the Grand Canyon is that it is not a place. It is a wound. A massive, ancient, indifferent gash in the earth that stretches 277 miles long and up to 18 miles wide. The Colorado River has been carving it for over 100 million years, and in all that time, the canyon has learned exactly one lesson: it does not care about you.

It does not care about your hiking boots or your water bottles or your GPS. It does not care that you have children waiting at home or that you are young or old or in love or afraid. The canyon simply is. And every year, millions of people stand on its rim and stare into its depths, and most of them walk away. But some of them do not. Some of them walk into the canyon and never come back.

Thomas Daniel Gibbs was 35 years old, an avid hiker, traveling alone. On July 22, 2025, he parked his Tesla Cybertruck at the Grand View Trailhead along the South Rim. The Grand View Trail is one of the steeper and more difficult trails descending into the canyon. It is not for beginners. It is not for the unprepared.

Thomas was neither. He knew what he was doing. And yet, after he set out, his exact movements became unknown. He was not seen again. When he failed to return, park officials found his Cybertruck still sitting in the parking area. Search teams combed the rugged cliffs and steep switchbacks that lead deep into the canyon. They found nothing. No sign of Thomas. No belongings. No equipment.

According to family members, Thomas had recently become fascinated with the legend of Kincaid Cave, a rumored cavern said to exist somewhere deep within the Grand Canyon. The story originates from a century-old newspaper article that described a supposed discovery of ancient artifacts hidden within a cave in the canyon walls.

Although the cave has never been officially verified, the legend has circulated online for years. Thomas had been researching possible routes. Several phone pings connected to him were reportedly detected somewhere within the region of the canyon that online maps suggest might be a starting point for reaching the alleged location.

“Much of the terrain between these areas contains unmarked routes, steep rock faces, and dangerous off-trail terrain that can quickly become disorienting even for experienced hikers,” I said. “Thomas Daniel Gibbs has never been found. His family continues to seek information, hoping that someone might recognize a route or location that could explain where he may have gone.”

A caller named Diane from Phoenix said, “A Cybertruck? In the Grand Canyon? That thing probably got struck by lightning or something.”

“Tesla Cybertrucks are not known to attract lightning more than any other vehicle,” I said. “Also, the truck was found intact. The problem isn’t the truck. The problem is the man who walked away from it and vanished into the largest natural maze on the continent.”

This is the first hinge: The canyon does not take. The canyon hides. And sometimes, it hides forever.

Let me tell you about Glenn and Bessie Hyde. They were newlyweds. He was 29, an experienced river runner. She was 22, with little experience navigating dangerous whitewater. In October of 1928, they launched a 20-foot wooden sweep scout boat into the Colorado River for what was supposed to be an adventurous honeymoon trip through the Grand Canyon.

Glenn hoped the trip would also set a new speed record for traveling the river. Bessie brought a camera to document the journey. They mailed postcards and letters to family members describing the beauty of the canyon and the excitement of the trip. Witnesses who encountered them described the couple as cheerful and confident.

Their final confirmed sighting occurred on November 18, 1928, when other travelers reported seeing them continuing downstream into the canyon. After that moment, their movements became unknown. Neither Glenn nor Bessie has ever been seen again.

Weeks later, in early December, searchers made a chilling discovery. The Hydes’ boat had been found intact along the Colorado River near Diamond Creek inside the Grand Canyon. The vessel showed no signs of damage and appeared to have been tied securely to the riverbank. Inside the boat were the couple’s food supplies, clothing, camera, and other personal belongings.

Nothing appeared to be missing. There was no evidence of foul play, no struggle, no accident of any kind. Despite extensive searches along the river and throughout the surrounding canyon, no trace of Glenn or Bessie Hyde was ever found. No footprints. No campsites. No remains. The powerful Colorado River failed to reveal any clues.

“Nearly a century later,” I said, “the disappearance of Glenn and Bessie Hyde remains one of the oldest unsolved mysteries in the Grand Canyon. No confirmed explanation. Nothing.”

A caller named Marcus from Seattle said, “They just tied up their boat and walked away? Into the desert? In November?”

“We don’t know that they walked away,” I said. “We don’t know anything. That’s the problem.”

The number you need to remember here is 1928. That is the year the Hydes disappeared. Almost a hundred years ago. And still, no answers. Still, no bodies. Still, only questions.

This is the second hinge: The canyon does not answer letters. It does not return postcards. It simply exists.

Now let me tell you about Drake Kramer. He was 21 years old. In July of 2011, he was last seen near the South Rim. After this point, his movements are unknown. Park officials launched search efforts. Search and rescue teams from the National Park Service began combing the rim and nearby trails. Helicopters were deployed to scan the canyon walls and the rugged terrain below.

These aerial searches focused on ledges, rock slopes, and remote sections of the canyon where someone could potentially fall or become stranded. Despite these extensive efforts, no trace of Drake was found. No belongings. No clothing. No physical evidence.

“Investigators believed it was possible that Drake may have accidentally fallen somewhere along the rim,” I said. “But the Grand Canyon’s vast size and difficult terrain make locating someone extremely challenging. Think of it as a true needle in a haystack.”

Morgan Heimer was 20 years old. In March of 2009, he was visiting the canyon with friends and was spending time along the South Rim. On March 19th, he was last seen near the rim. When he failed to return to his group, park rangers were notified. Search and rescue teams combed the rim and surrounding terrain. Helicopters searched the canyon walls and steep slopes below. No trace of Morgan has ever been found.

“Did he accidentally slip near the edge?” I asked. “Did he wander into a dangerous area of the rim? It has never been determined. The Grand Canyon’s immense size and unforgiving landscape has made it the site of numerous disappearances and accidents over the years. For Morgan Heimer’s family and friends, the lack of answers has left an enduring mystery.”

A caller named Patricia from Florida said, “Two young men. Two different years. Same result. How is that possible?”

“The canyon is 277 miles long,” I said. “It has thousands of ledges, crevices, and alcoves. A body can fall into a crack and never be seen again. A person can walk a few hundred feet off trail and become completely disoriented. The temperature can drop 30 degrees in an hour. A thunderstorm can roll in and wash away every trace. The canyon does not want to be searched. It is too big. And it is too old to care.”

This is the third hinge: The canyon is not malevolent. It is indifferent. And indifference is harder to fight than malice.

And then there is Jeremy Whisinand. He was 41 years old. On February 10, 2026, he was last seen around 10:30 p.m. in Blythe, California, while traveling toward the Grand Canyon, where he was scheduled to begin work just two days later. Earlier that day, he had left his home in Takapah, California, driving to Yuma, Arizona, to drop off his daughter.

From there, he continued to Blythe, where he met a friend and purchased a vehicle: a white 2008 Ford F250. He left his friend’s home later that evening and began driving toward Northern Arizona. He never arrived.

When he failed to report to work, his employer became concerned. By February 16th, his family had been notified he was missing. Loved ones said his sudden disappearance was completely out of character. They described Jeremy as a devoted father who regularly stays in contact with his children.

Days later, investigators learned that Jeremy’s truck had been located. The white Ford F250 was found near the Agnes Wilson Road Bridge along the Colorado River between Blythe, California, and Parker, Arizona. The discovery raised new questions. Jeremy’s phone has since been turned off. There have been no confirmed sightings of him since February 10th.

Jeremy is described as 5’10”, weighing approximately 175 lbs, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He has a tattoo of a guitar on his left forearm and the number 88 tattooed on his left shoulder. At the time he was last seen, Jeremy was believed to be wearing a baseball cap, t-shirt, jeans, and work boots, or black DC tennis shoes. He may have been wearing a pullover hoodie with the words “You Are Enough” printed on the front.

“Despite the discovery of his vehicle,” I said, “Jeremy Whisinand remains missing. Investigators continue searching for answers about what happened during his journey toward the Grand Canyon.”

The number here is 2026. That is this year. Jeremy disappeared just months ago. His case is not cold. It is not historical. It is current. And yet, the pattern is the same. A vehicle found. No body. No answers. No closure.

“Anyone with any information regarding Jeremy’s disappearance is asked to contact the Riverside County Sheriff’s Office,” I said. “Remember, even the smallest piece of information could help investigators determine what happened that night.”

This is the fourth hinge: The canyon does not discriminate. It takes the experienced and the inexperienced, the young and the middle-aged, the prepared and the unprepared. It takes them all.

Now let me tell you about the story that started it all. The story that has haunted the Grand Canyon for over a century. The story that may explain why so many people vanish in that place, or may simply be another mystery buried beneath the layers of legend.

On April 5, 1909, in that week’s edition of the Arizona Gazette, an article appeared about two archaeologists who were on an expedition in the Grand Canyon. The expedition was said to be funded by the Smithsonian Institution. The men claimed that in the Marble Canyon section of the Grand Canyon, they found an expansive system of caves and caverns. Upon exploring further, they found remnants of an ancient and lost civilization that once inhabited there.

The explorers’ names were G.E. Kincaid and Professor S.A. Jordan. Kincaid was the more vocal of the two. He spoke often of the sights beheld by the men while on this amazing adventure. He explained that the area was certainly a place which would be forbidden by the government for any tourist or visitor to enter under penalty of being charged with trespassing or worse.

He said the scientists wanted to keep this place a secret because they didn’t want to be bombarded with people trampling all over it trying to hunt for relics or souvenirs. And there was more than a little fear that if the exact location were disclosed, the place itself would become an attraction, and the artifacts—and possibly even the history—would be damaged and spoiled forever.

Kincaid relayed the story of how he first happened upon the mystical place. “I was journeying down the Colorado River in a boat alone, looking for minerals,” he said. “Some 42 miles up the river from the El Tovar Crystal Canyon, I saw on the east wall stains in the sedimentary formation about 2,000 feet above the riverbed. There was no trail to this spot, but I finally reached it with great difficulty. Above a shelf which hid it from view from the river was the mouth of the cave.”

As he worked his way through the caves and caverns, he realized there was nothing but darkness for who knows how long, leading to who knows where. Almost everything within and all along the walls was chiseled and made by hand, embedded deep into the stone itself.

The cave system was located at least a mile down into the depths of the earth. And here is where he found the extensive chambers which led into even more tunnels, which then led to actual rooms—hundreds of them, some with oval doorways.

Kincaid described the main passageway as about 12 feet wide, narrowing to 9 feet toward the farther end. About 57 feet from the entrance, the first side passages branch off to the right and left, along which on both sides are a number of rooms about the size of ordinary living rooms of today, though some are 30×40 feet square.

These are entered by oval-shaped doors and are ventilated by round air spaces through the walls into the passages. The walls are about 3 feet 6 inches in thickness. The passages are chiseled or hewn as straight as can be laid out by an engineer.

Aside from how amazing the structures themselves were, even more fascinating were the items found within the walls of this massive man-made city. There were what appeared to be urns, idols, vases, and even weapons. Each one of these things was proof of some ancient civilization lost somehow to history and even time itself.

There came a point in the men’s journey where they came across a massive shrine of some kind, brimming with all kinds of relics and artifacts, none of which had ever been seen by anyone local to the area. The inhabitants of the surrounding area had never seen or created such things and had no clue where they could have come from or, perhaps more importantly, who crafted them or even how they were made.

Kincaid described the shrine. Approximately 100 feet from the entrance was a gigantic statue or idol of these ancient people’s god. It sat there cross-legged with a lotus flower in each of its enormous hands.

The face looked oriental, and the cast was directly in the cavern and formed from it. He said it very much resembled Buddha, but none of the scientists could figure out exactly which god it was or who would have worshiped it. Surrounding this idol were smaller images, some very beautiful in form, others crooked-necked and distorted shapes, symbolical perhaps of good and evil.

There were tools of all descriptions made of copper. Kincaid claimed that these people undoubtedly knew the lost art of hardening this metal, which has been sought by chemists for centuries without result.

On a bench running around the workroom was some charcoal and other material probably used in the process. There was also slag and stuff similar to matte, showing that these ancient people smelted ores. But so far, no trace of where or how this was done has been discovered, nor the origin of the ore.

There were passageways that led to what looked like granaries. Seeds of all kinds were discovered. And this was another hint, according to Kincaid, of some sort of oriental connection.

They were almost exactly the same as those that were found in ancient temples in Asia. But again, there could be no final point of origin for any of these things and no final explanations that could be based on facts or evidence found anywhere else. Everything they were discovering was totally brand new for this region.

An extremely macabre and admittedly enchanting discovery was also made. It was some sort of tomb or burial vault. It contained rows and rows of actual mummies, each one left in its own separate and perhaps private hand-carved shelf. Above the heads of the deceased were broken swords and pieces of copper cups.

While only some of the mummies were covered in clay, all of them were carefully wrapped in some sort of bark fabric. On the lower shelves, there were considerably more crude cups, urns, and other hand-carved items.

The higher up on the shelves, the more fine and decorative the design was. Upon further examination of the mummies, it was found that there were no females or children. Only the men were left there and honored in this way. Kincaid made the assumption that perhaps this meant they had stumbled upon a sort of warrior’s barracks.

There was one chamber of the passageway that was not ventilated. “When we approached it,” Kincaid said, “a deadly snaky smell struck us. Our light would not penetrate the gloom. Until stronger ones are available, we will not know what the chamber contains. Some say indeed snakes.

But others pooh-pooh this idea and think it may contain a deadly gas or some sort of chemicals used by the ancients. No sounds are heard, but it smells snaky just the same. The whole underground installation gives one the shaky nerves, the creeps. The gloom is like a weight on one’s shoulders, and our flashlights and candles only seem to make the darkness around them grow blacker.”

Kincaid speculated that in its entirety, this underground city of sorts had not only enough space but the facilities too to comfortably house approximately 50,000 people. Fifty thousand. That is the number you need to remember. An entire civilization, buried beneath the Grand Canyon, hidden from the world, discovered by accident, and then—if you believe the story—covered up by the Smithsonian and forgotten by history.

“Today,” I said, “we are only left with speculation and rumor. There were never any pictures taken. There was also no one who was willing to back up Kincaid’s story. In this community, we should know by now that factual evidence isn’t always necessary when drawing a conclusion, especially when it’s something possibly supernatural, paranormal, or even otherworldly.”

A caller named Kevin from Denver said, “So you’re telling me that the Grand Canyon has a secret underground city with mummies and a Buddha statue and a room that smells like snakes?”

“I am telling you that a man named G.E. Kincaid claimed to have found those things in 1909,” I said. “I am telling you that the Arizona Gazette published his story. I am telling you that the Smithsonian has repeatedly denied any knowledge of the expedition. And I am telling you that since then, no one has been able to find the cave again. Not Kincaid. Not anyone.”

“Why not?” Kevin asked.

“Maybe because the canyon is 277 miles long and 18 miles wide and a mile deep,” I said. “Maybe because the cave entrance is hidden behind a shelf that can only be seen from a specific angle on the river. Maybe because the government sealed it off. Or maybe because it never existed at all. Maybe it was a hoax. Maybe Kincaid was a fraud. But then again—”

I paused.

“Then again, people have been vanishing in the Grand Canyon for over a hundred years. Thomas Gibbs was looking for Kincaid’s cave when he disappeared. Glenn and Bessie Hyde were never found. Drake Kramer, Morgan Heimer, Jeremy Whisinand. All of them. Gone. No bodies. No answers. Just a canyon that keeps its secrets.”

This is the fifth hinge: The Grand Canyon is a library of mysteries. And someone has checked out all the books and never returned them.

The show ended. The lights went down. My producer came over and said, “That Kincaid story is wild. You think it’s real?”

I looked at him. “I think 50,000 people don’t build an underground city and then just disappear. I think mummies don’t wrap themselves in bark fabric and place themselves on shelves. I think the Smithsonian doesn’t fund expeditions to places that don’t exist. So either Kincaid was lying, or he was telling the truth, and someone made sure the truth stayed buried.”

“Buried where?”

“In the canyon,” I said. “Same place as Thomas Gibbs. Same place as the Hydes. Same place as all of them.”

The producer shook his head. He walked away.

I sat in the studio for a while, thinking about Kincaid’s description of the unventilated chamber. The one that smelled like snakes. The one where the light would not penetrate the gloom. Kincaid said they would need stronger lights before they could explore it. They never did. The expedition ended. The article was published. And then, silence.

What was in that chamber? Snakes, perhaps. Or deadly gas. Or something else. Something that Kincaid saw but did not write down. Something that made him stop exploring. Something that made him leave the canyon and never return.

We will never know. The chamber is still there, somewhere, buried beneath a mile of rock, hidden behind a shelf that can only be seen from the river at a specific angle. And the people who know where it is—if anyone still knows—are not talking.

“Be good to yourselves and each other,” I said to the empty studio. “And if you ever find yourself at the Grand Canyon, stay on the trails. Stay away from the edges. And for God’s sake, do not go looking for Kincaid’s cave. It is not a legend. It is a trap. And the people who walked into it never walked out.”

The lights went out. The door closed. And somewhere, deep in the bowels of the Grand Canyon, in a chamber that has not seen sunlight in a million years, something that may or may not have a name is still waiting. Still smelling of snakes. Still dark.

Still hungry.

I am Steve Stockton. I will talk to you next time.