In May 2008, two friends, Scott Johnston and Sean Farmer, headed out for a relaxing fishing and camping trip near Dismal Creek, Virginia.
Nestled just off the Appalachian Trail, it was a familiar spot where the pair had camped before without issue. They likely expected the same quiet, peaceful experience.
But this trip would end in gunfire, chaos, and the reemergence of a man whose name still haunts the Appalachian Trail.
A Stranger Named “Ricky Williams”
While enjoying their evening, the two men encountered a ragged-looking man who introduced himself as Ricky Williams. He seemed a bit off, possibly under the influence, but they didn’t think much of it.
Being friendly and generous, they invited him to join them at their campfire for dinner. The man accepted and all seemed normal – until he suddenly turned on them.
Just as night was falling, Ricky Williams stood up, called to his dog, and started to walk away. Without a word of warning, he pulled out a .22 caliber pistol and opened fire.
He shot Sean Farmer first, then turned the gun on Johnston as he tried to escape. The scene spiraled into panic as both men, wounded and in shock, scrambled to survive.
A Desperate Escape
Somehow, through sheer will and coordination, Farmer managed to get to his Jeep and flee. Johnston, injured, managed to flag him down on a remote road. Together, they fled the scene – Farmer controlling the gas and brake pedals while Johnston steered, both of them soaked in blood.
Eventually, they came upon a house and begged the owner for help. Emergency responders arrived, and both men were flown to a hospital in critical condition. Against all odds, they survived.
Authorities soon discovered that “Ricky Williams” was an alias. The man who had nearly killed two campers wasn’t a stranger to violence. His real name was Randall Lee Smith, and he had a dark history with the Appalachian Trail – one that dated back nearly three decades.
The Face Behind the Mask
In 1981, Smith had already left blood on the trail. Two hikers, Robert Mountford Jr. and Susan Ramsey, were hiking through Virginia when they vanished. A search led authorities to the Wapiti Shelter, where blood between the floorboards raised immediate alarms.
Deeper into the surrounding woods, searchers found a hastily buried sleeping bag. Inside was the body of Susan Ramsey. Soon after, Mountford’s body was discovered nearby.
Caught by a Bloody Clue
What led authorities to Smith was surprisingly small – a paperback book found in Ramsey’s backpack, smeared with blood. Fingerprints on the book matched Smith’s from his time working at a shipyard.
A search of his home uncovered items belonging to the slain hikers and a pair of bloody jeans. He was eventually tracked down in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, and arrested. But what happened next only added to the tragedy.
A Sentence That Sparked Outrage
Despite the evidence, Smith never went to trial. He struck a plea deal and pled guilty to two counts of second-degree murder. His sentence? Just 30 years. Worse yet, he only served 15 of them before being released on parole in 1996.
Many in the hiking community were outraged, including well-known long-distance hikers who protested the leniency. One even warned that if Smith ever committed another crime, the people behind that plea deal should be held accountable.
The Calm Before Another Storm
After his release, Smith returned to Pearisburg, Virginia – just miles from where he had committed his previous crimes. For 12 years, he kept a low profile, though neighbors said he still told wild lies about homes in Daytona Beach and Las Vegas. His nickname growing up had been “Lyin’ Randall,” and clearly, not much had changed.
The Attack That Could’ve Been Prevented
Then came the 2008 attack on Johnston and Farmer. What makes it all more chilling is that the new attack happened just two miles from his 1981 killings. After fleeing the shooting, Smith crashed Johnston’s stolen truck and was arrested once again.
But this time, there would be no trial. Four days later, he died in custody – leaving behind questions, anger, and a renewed fear of what the trail had seen.
What police found after the attack added to the horror. Hidden near the campsite was a stash of Smith’s personal items. They found his birth certificate, a police scanner, and a detailed map with X’s marking locations around the area.
There were also more than 30 knives, eight pairs of women’s underwear, and a cassette tape believed to be linked to a satanic ritual. It painted a deeply unsettling picture of a man who never truly changed.
Rare But Real Danger
Attacks like these are incredibly rare on the Appalachian Trail. Every year, millions of people hike its winding paths from Georgia to Maine without incident.
But Randall Lee Smith stands as a terrifying reminder that evil doesn’t need to be common to leave a mark. He is often referred to as the most dangerous man to ever set foot on the trail – for good reason.
Evil in the Woods
What makes this story so disturbing isn’t just the violence – it’s the way Smith blended into the landscape. He wasn’t a drifter passing through; he was a local who knew the terrain better than most hikers. He used his familiarity with the area to stalk, manipulate, and attack. That familiarity, combined with a twisted mind, is what made him so dangerous.
It’s hard not to feel anger at the system that let this man go. A double murderer who stabbed and shot two innocent hikers should not have seen the light of day after just 15 years. The 2008 attack should never have happened. The people who warned us were right. Justice delayed, or diluted, can end in blood. And in this case, it nearly did again.
A Justice System That Failed
Randall Lee Smith’s story is a dark stain on one of America’s most beloved hiking trails. It’s a tale that hikers remember not just for fear, but as a call to stay alert, stay smart, and never take peace for granted – even in the most beautiful places. While the trail is overwhelmingly safe, stories like this remind us that true danger often wears a friendly face.
Raised in a small Arizona town, Kevin grew up surrounded by rugged desert landscapes and a family of hunters. His background in competitive shooting and firearms training has made him an authority on self-defense and gun safety. A certified firearms instructor, Kevin teaches others how to properly handle and maintain their weapons, whether for hunting, home defense, or survival situations. His writing focuses on responsible gun ownership, marksmanship, and the role of firearms in personal preparedness.
