National Park Nightmares – Volume 11: “The Vanished” 

In this episode, we examine two disappearances—separated by 78 years—that continue to confound families, search teams, and anyone who tries to make sense of what happened.

It was a typical summer day in the Colorado wilderness when 4-year-old Alfred Beilhartz disappeared during a family outing. He was walking just behind his parents along a trail near a stream—then suddenly, he wasn’t. What followed was one of the first large-scale search efforts in the park’s history, involving over 150 people, bloodhounds, and aerial surveillance. But no trace of Alfred was ever found. Witnesses later reported seeing a boy matching his description on a remote cliffside ledge. Searchers scrambled to reach the spot—only to find nothing. No boy. No tracks. No clues. Just silence.


Floyd Roberts wasn’t a first-timer in the canyon. His connection to the place stretched back to 1992, when his friend Ned Bryant first invited him out. Roberts became a devoted hiker, returning year after year with Bryant. By 2016, the two were seasoned and well-prepared, setting out once again—this time with Bryant’s daughter along for the trip. On June 17th, deep in the remote Kelly Tanks area, the trio chose to split momentarily: the Bryants taking a route over a hill before the trailhead, Roberts choosing to walk around it and meet them on the other side. He never arrived. The Bryants waited, circled back the way Roberts went, then returned to camp and marked the area with visible gear to guide him. Still, nothing. This wasn’t a man likely to panic or get lost. 

Roberts was highly intelligent—he’d worked at NASA and taught programming and game design. He had food, water, and a map marked with their routes. But after six days of searching with helicopters, drones, and canine units—no sign. No gear. No footprints. No remains. Despite the unforgiving terrain and triple-digit heat, Roberts’ experience and preparation should have given him a fighting chance. 

And yet, five years have passed, countless hikers have passed through the region, and not a single clue has surfaced. Why did Floyd veer off alone? Why couldn’t the others hear a call for help if something went wrong just on the other side of a hill? And how does someone—someone this equipped, this smart, this familiar with the terrain—vanish without leaving behind a trace?

🔦 Two cases. Two different centuries. Two national parks. No answers.