I have a couple fun ones.
I was born in Oregon, and we used to go back fishing on the rogue river every year when I was growing up (Navy brat, moved to florida when young),
One trip back while I was in high school, it had been a wicked hot summer that year, and in one of the camp grounds we normally go to (given, we had only been to this particular spot once or twice in a 3 year period), some of the trees across the river had died and were basically just the trunks.
We set up, were there for almost 3 hours before any of us noticed the house across the bank that had obviously been hidden by the trees. It wasn't big, probably someones fishing shanty, but the way the doors and windows were set, it looked like it was watching us.
By the end of the night, my Dad made us pack up and head out to go a couple miles down the road, it freaked him out that we noticed the house, at the same time in a usually great spot, we hadn't caught a single fish in 8+ hours of fishing.
Also, my wife is from Maine, we go back once every few years to visit family. And Maine is inherently creepy at night thanks to reading Stephen King novels. We were staying in Bar Harbor (holy monkey what a beautiful town), and we decided to go hiking in Acadia, which Bar Harbor sits on the edge of. After about an hour of walking through the woods to find a secluded rock beach my wife told me about, my son and I came across an old foundation to a house, just bricks and steps, nothing else. And there is nothing around it for miles. He refused to go near the house.
After we got back, I asked our Aunt who we were staying with about it, and I kid you not, this woman, who has never read a single lovecraft story and hates horror and sci-fi stories looked at me and said in her maine-esque accent. "Oh, that place used to belong to some terrible old man."
It was kinda hard explaining why I laughed.