Today, I want to tell you about a journey that I've been on for most of my life. Ever since I was a kid, I've heard tales of bigfoot and wild men while spending time with my friends and family. As I grew older and read more about the paranormal, my interest encryptids and other things strange only deepened. That's why I'm so excited to share with you what
I've personally become involved with the Untold Radio Network. The Untold Radio Network is a live streaming podcast network that airs a new show every day across all podcast platforms, YouTube, and more. They have eight different shows on all sorts of exciting topics such as bigfoot, cryptids, UFOs, aliens, and much more. I even have my own show called Weird Encounters, where I talk
about all things strange. This is more than just a podcast network. It's a community that allows me to meet so many amazing people who share their stories and experiences with the strange. If you're interested in hearing more of these stories and learning more about the paranormal and encryptids, make sure you check out the Untold Radio Network for all kinds of exciting shows. It's free to subscribe. So what are you waiting for visit www dot Untold Radio Network dot com today,
And I want what are your reportting? I got a screen going on here. Something just to fly dog? Something killed your dog? My dog? We're flying through the or over the tread. I don't know how it did it, Okay, damn. And I'm really confused now as I saw was my dog coming over the fence, and they did when you hit the groul, I didn't have seen any cards. Also, I saw was my dog coming over the fence? Dan? Why what are you reporting? We
got someone or something crawling around out here? Do you see what it was worth it? Ending up here? Looking up new the window now and I don't need anything. I don't want to run right Nay, Hello, get the buddy out here, thought, I'm a bud four nine. I don't know easy out there yet. I'm looking right head Chapter nine, Oh Cheesy Pond wild Man. In the late eighteen hundreds, a large feral man of the shadows was wreaking havoc on a small swamp village not far from Black Lagoon.
The creature of the dark was terrorizing children, killing livestock, and hurling out blood curdling screams in the night. A group of hunters and soldiers tracked the monster down and captured the wild man deep in the cypress. They believed he was an escaped mental patient, and he was sent to the state hospital. He died there a few years later, but his descendants have been spotted
many times over the last century. In October of twenty eighteen, right after Hurricane Michael ripped our region apart, I had some strange occurrences in my Panhandle trailer. There were trees and debris sprawled in every direction. My windows were broken, and the outside sheeting and skirting were miles away. We didn't have power for twenty six days, and we were one of the lucky ones. The nights were dark, hot, and silent. The first few nights after
the storm, I had trouble sleeping. The loud crashes and thrashes from the hurricane would return, and I would roll over in my bed. The human body was never supposed to experience something that intense. I truly feel sorry for those in war. The night terrors and roaring skies pumbled me into submission. It crossed my mind that moving down south may have been a mistake. The
soil was stained and we were all scarred. The cries of my mother watching all of her fruit trees tumble over in her newly acquired dream home really stone. But luckily I'd evacuated my trailer and made it over to her sturdy home. One of my neighbors was rolled over and another one's roof was ripped off. I'm glad we were safe, but the trauma was still very real. My heart goes out to the more than seventy people that were killed by Michael.
In the middle of the night during the blackout, I'd feel a banging on the sides of my single wide. It was loud and vibrated the entire frame. It would wake me up and stir up my cats, but most of the time I'd just fall right back to sleep. It happened five or six times. It felt like a dream, but most of the day did as well. We were surrounded by debris and split trees. It begins to play tricks on your mind. I couldn't tell if something was targeting my trailer
or if it was PTSD. One night, it was strong enough to get me to peek out the window. I looked outside, and to my surprise, caught a glimpse of a large white blur and some wild dogs running off back into the woods. I scribbled f l heard something late at night three a m looked out the window, saw something white, big in my journal, and went back to sleep. Another hundred in the area told me that activity had picked up right after the storm as well. He and his neighborhood
loud trampling and a path being cleared through the fallen trees. I sure hope they sensed the storm and found safety, but that weird window of a couple of days after a natural disaster could have cryptids, creatures, and common folk on the same path of survival. My friend Ronnie has been hiking these creeks for decades now and has had many encounters with the creature. He was lucky enough to find a thumb bone of a giant. The first metacarpal bone was
almost bigger than my entire thumb. The petrified fossil was heavy in my hand. He also found a shoulder blade deep in the clay remnants surround us. I had a recent encounter about thirty miles from the pond with a stump jumper. June fifth, my friend and I did a nighttime hike for the eclipse. My companion, Ronnie, is former military and a lifetime hunter and tracker. We adventured to Bellamy Bridge, which is known to be apparent on a
hotspot. The hike is short but creepy at nighttime. A blanket of mist covers the path and the Chippela River swamps. We were out there for a few hours. We told scary stories, meditated, and just listened to the words of the forest. We were talking about the swamp thing and heard a loud hooting call from a distance. It stopped us in our conversations, tracks and rumbled our chests. I haven't recorded on my GoPro camera. Ronnie tried
calling back but was met with no response. It was either an owl or a warning from a wild man. There was a blanket of strange vibrations that sprawled throughout the dark forest. It was eerie because it only hooted one time. I was well aware that both linked to ancient legends and missing four one one. For the next forty five minutes, we watched glowing orbs in the sky. It looked similar to heat lightning, but it was just above the
tree canopy in the surrounding forest. An airy feeling spread around the end of the trail. We knew that something was nearby, and it was confirmed when we heard a large tree crash about thirty yards from us. My GoPro burned out just minutes before. Not a dead battery, It just got so hot it turned off. Strange. Could be the old batteries finally going bad or was it infrasound. I was terrified after that crashing tree. I could feel
it in my sternum. I envisioned rell a boom attacking. I armed myself with my knife and Ronnie had his hand on his protector. He joked that he wished he had brought the bigger one. I wished I had one. My toothpick wouldn't stop anything from snapping me in half. We didn't want to hurt whatever it was, but we were sure ready to protect ourselves. We stayed out there another hour with minimal activity. Sometimes the entire forest would go
silent and get darker. Even with the full moon eclipse going on. The vibes were definitely getting a little spooky, especially with what's going on in the world and the people in charge finally releasing those authentic UFO videos proving their unknown and supernatural forces at play every day, but that is an ancient nilge of course. Another time, near Look and Tremble Rapids, I was with a
neighbor and his son hanging out along the chippola. We recorded videos talking about the seminole legends, monster gaiters, and religious snake handlers who passed away. Back here, we enjoyed the white water and skipped rocks. We did some tree knocks, and then the kid did some big foot calls. Right after one of his hoots, a tree branch fell. The nearby forest went silent, and we didn't stick around much longer after that. We were always searching
for signs when we were out there. Chapter ten, Honey Island Swamp Monster. The Honey Island Swamp is a true paradise for reptilians and mammals alike. Runaway circuses, Indian burial mounds and piles of hidden treasure saturate the Spanish moss of the bayou. Aggressive gaiters, angry hogs, and enormous snakes patrol the perimeter grounds, while the simple life fishermen just catch enough fish to survive. On the edge of the space test zone. It's not rising there have been
some strange creatures spotted in the water. The most famous is the three toed swamp thing, the Honey Island swamp monster. According to Cajun legend, when someone skips lent for seven days straight, they become cursed for a hundred and one nights. They are transformed into the rugaroo. The half man hybrid beast will have a taste for blood, and that thirst can never be quenched. Other reports say a circus crashed and chimpanzees mated with the crocodiles. This beast
is even more dangerous than the Reverend Zombie and the Bayou Butcher. The legend of Victor Crowley is told in the Four Hatchets movie. Victor's father cheated on his dying wife with the family nurse. Their unborn child was placed under a voodoo spell. Victor was born deformed and mutated. Thomas raised him in the Honey Island Swamp on the outskirts of existence. One day, a group of teenagers lit the cabin on fire with Victor inside. Vic tragic, he died
and his spirit was trapped in time. He was resurrected and killed anybody who visited his haunted swamp after a misunderstanding left me on the Biloxi streets for the night. I bathed on the beach by the Loop and looked for shark teeth. I found some cool rocks and jellyfish, but no meglodon fossils. I dried off and called the Honey Island Swamp Tours to book a spot on their two hour boat tour. I was excited to finally check out the swamp and
check that off of my bucket list. As I drove westward, I reminisced on the last few times I visited New Orleans. We had memorable stays with interesting people. Our friend, Jannon was born in China and raised as a cave diver. She has lived all over the world and is now the leader of an important Mardi Grad group. The other guy we stayed with was ex military and a bike delivery man. He has ridden across America on two wheelers that he built himself. Both of our friends had stories for days. This
guy was a big NASA fan. However, he wanted to strangle me when I told him the Earth was a flat plane and that NASA meant to deceive an ancient Hebrew I chuckled about it. As I entered the space testing zone. No wonder there are deformed monsters in the swamp. It's just like the hills have eyes out there. I was getting close and passed the rest stop we'd slept at a few years before. I remember setting up on the ground just outside the car because there was barely any room with the five of us
packed tight in a small suv. I fell asleep quickly, but was awoken in the middle of the night by something causing a ruckus in the tree line. I crawled back in the car and pissed everyone off when I woke them up. Better pissed off than pissed on. I pulled off the sly deal exit and had my eyes peeled for gaiters, creatures, and even aliens. The movie Midnight Special was filmed right there. In many other places along the Emerald Coast, I was right where I needed to be. I followed the
signs and took the winding dirt roads to the cabin. I ripped my cart and was ready to go. I bought a hat, couzy, gaiter claws, and a bunch of postcards from the gift shop. I figured it would be cool memorabillion presents from my cryptid family. I marveled at the crayon drawings of the Honey Island swamp monster, and of course I had to ask the guy at the front desk if he had had any encounters. He shook his head no, but said that his grandfather had once shot one of them.
He said it was the scariest thing in the swamp other than the quicksand I laughed but trembled when I imagined being sucked under by the sand. Before I knew it, I was on the boat and sitting through the safety guidelines. There was no standing up, no smoking, and no reaching over the edge. He didn't have to say that twice. The giant gaiters reminded everyone very
quickly that we were safest sitting back and enjoying the view. Our captain also warned, and if we run into the rugaroo, do not stare into its eyes. We covered about thirteen miles on a high speed pontoon boat. He pointed out the interesting river side homesteads and asked us how many boat loads of material we thought it took to build each one of them. We fed marshmallows to alligators and visited the magic tree from the princess and the frog. We
were infiltrated by snakes. They rained down from the trees. After our reptilian encounter, we spotted something very strange up ahead on the river. We slowed down to get a better look, and a nauseating odor swept through the air. The baby on the boat started to cry, and most of the people were covering their nose. The captain didn't get too close. I had my eyes locked on the surface and in the woods behind, scanning for clues.
There was a light, brown, bloated carcass floating towards the shoreline. I could see a long snout and strange wrinkles. At first glance, I thought it was a deer that had filled up with fluid, but the captain said it was an alligator. I'm not sure that I agree with him. There were no scales, and it was not the greenish tint that most alligators appear. Cap of course, was on the wall are far more than me, but I think he didn't want to raise panic amongst the families. I snapped
a few pictures before we jetted off. The boat was under a spell. The creature looked like it came from Silent Hill or resident evil. It reminded me of the zombie dogs and lichens from Underworld. The carcass was at least seven to ten feet long, and it looked like it would burst if it were poked. I wondered if it were a victim of the rugaroo or an unfortunate member of the species. It also crossed my mind that it was a mutant from the space testing area. No matter what it was, the entire
boat was shocked. The rest of the trip was peaceful. The icing on the cake was when we spotted two large boars at the end of the canal. They smelled horrendous, but nowhere near the mysterious creature we'd encountered just a few minutes earlier. The monster pigs trampled through the mud and were not happy that we had interrupted them. I wished them good luck, because I knew
the gaiters and the Honey Island swamp monster would be hunting them soon. We made it back to the dock, and I was happy to get a picture with the captain. I hung out in the store and waited for everyone to head out. Then I approached him for some questions. He was happy to chop it up. He admitted that he really didn't know what that carcass was. It didn't look like other gator bodies, but that was the only thing that was that big in the swamp. And when they swell up, they
become unrecognizable. I agree with that. He described a couple of after dark encounters with unknown creatures. He has heard strange sounds and purrs coming from the trees that had a peaceful tone. Other nights, he has been forced out of fishing spots by intimidating roars and rocks being thrown in his direction. Tree knocks, whistles and whispers were just part of the swamp, he laughed. He told me about another crazy experience that he had a couple of years ago.
He was fishing with his two friends deep in the swamp. There were three houseboats tied to each other, and they were fishing beside them. His friend got snagged under the house and caused a ruck us trying to get it undone. A man with an automatic twenty two stumbled out of the doors. The swamp man said, if there wasn't a fish on the end of the line, he was going to shoot. Then the snag got undone, and of course there was no fish. The crazy guy said, well you heard
me, and let off a barrage of shots. My captain ducked down and got the boat in motion. They escaped, but were at a dead end. The guy knew this and he was waiting for them. When they passed by. He let off more shots and hit the boat multiple times. They made it back to safety and reported it to the authorities. They sent out a sheriff, and the guy shot at them too. They surrounded his house with the entire force and had choppers overhead. Some old guy rode up and
asked if they were looking for his brother. He assured them that he would bring him out as long as they promised not to hurt him. They heard shooting within the unit, but the man surrendered and was apprehended. The man's original charges of attempted murder on a police officer were reduced to simple assault. The man was back on the water within the wheel. He later put a shotgun in a CoP's mouth, and then he was taken away for good.
The man pleaded insanity and got locked up in the Looney ban. The most interesting part was that he was a genius and used to work for the Space program. He left there for some odd reason and moved into the middle of the swamp. He was clearly very paranoid. Maybe he knows more about the origins of the Honey Island swamp monster, or whatever else they have hiding in
that pristine land. Chapter eleven, DeSoto Demons. The DeSoto National Forest is a serene gateway for trail blazers and fishermen, but when the sun goes down, it's probably smart to stay in your tent. People have been vanishing at a terrifying rate from our national parks and forests. There is a deeper reason for the land being protected by federal law. Many people of the Bayous were carved by giants. The battle of angels and demons might be going on right
outside our tents. Some believe that there are four types of people on this planet, human sasquatch, red headed giants, and the grays. The Zeta manipulated the big Foot DNA about thirty thousand years ago. Six thousand years ago, the population exploded, and now there are many species that roam the earth. The pituitary gland in their brain regulates their height at a different rate than a human, and they can reach thirty feet tall. They had been working
underground, digging a labyrinth of caverns below our feet as we speak. Teddy Roosevelt was one of the country's most respectable presidents. His book The Wilderness Hunter was all about outdoor adventures and struggles and the Mountain States. He described a story of a trapper who was kidnapped and killed by a mountain beast. The partner of the deceased first relayed the story to Theodore, and the President was deeply moved. Another hunter had been killed and eaten at the same place the
year before. Many prospectors and trappers have sadly met the same fate. Even though many disappearances point to the sasquatcher's direction, there are many positive experiences with the species. There are countless reports of young boys and girls playing with children of the forest, making mud pies, sharing fishing techniques, and even working together to hunt. Some kids realize their friend was different, but others treated
the creatures just like any other. Pile Mother squatches have been known to look after vulnerable hikers. They can sense when humans are disabled or in need of help. A man claimed a female bigfoot shielded him and his handicapped son from an aggressive bear. There are many Native American legends that describe the troglodytes inheriting healing abilities and supernatural spirits. Homo sapiens and smile alike have been sharing the
land for thousands of years. The wild people are deeply connected to Mother Nature in her electric fields. This connection opens doors to heightened senses and abilities. The mitochondrial DNA of these creatures is female human, while the nebular DNA is unknown on mail. This groundbreaking info opens the possibilities of nephelum watchers and fallen angels still roaming the forest today. Among man, our connection to our creator
might be closer than we understand. It is already written into our genetics. We just need to unlock the code. Native American legends and proverbs speak a lot about the gamekeepers. They refer to them as stick Indians, tricksters, and frighteners. They are looked at as the evil god of the woods and a living solid force. The brushmen and bushmen's negative encounters are recounted as warnings
and terrifying camp fire tales. But some of the stone coats have protected and guided the First Nations people over the years, and it's interesting to wonder how they shaped our outdoor days of the present time. Accounts of trading, hunting, and fishing together are not uncommon. Friendly masked beings and ottermen love to help their little brothers. The older people would mimic animal calls and attract the
prey, and the tribes would trap and kill the target. They would share the deer, pigs, and snakes while building bridges out of mud and leaves. There are many more stories of the natives treating injured treemen, and even more stories of the ancient beings using special abilities to perform miracles on us humans. The ancient people have adapted perfectly to the natural world. They have sonar like dolphins and bats, and infra sound like lions and tigers, and the
ability to use their feet like monkeys do. Their vision is like an eagle mixed with a predator. They sense vibrations like alligators and can communicate with stomps from miles away like elephants. Translucent hairs allow the sasquatch to camouflage to their surroundings. They are masters of disguise, but have a problem masking one thing. Their smell is horrendous. The mixture of rotten skunk and dead fish pours
into the surroundings and intoxicates the victims. The road kill fragrance serves as a warning to most, but a spell to others. You think a skunk spray is bad, what you smell the skunk ape Their territory is marked most adult male sasquatched behaviors are to intimidate. A protective mother is even more dangerous. When the vibe is playful or curious, it's most likely a juvenile or young
female. Their tree breaks and other markings are similar to our roadmaps. Most hikers walk right past them without a second glance, but when a small number of us can read their signs, they begin to notice. We slept outside at a church right by the park perimeter. The boys set up the tent and the girls said that they would sleep in the car. Of course, when we were setting up our sleeping bags, they decided they were going to sleep in the tent as well. I had a bad headache, so I
moved my stuff into the car. I'd much rather suffer alone. I sipped on some gatorade and ripped the chill em. I tried to get my breathing right. Seven seconds in seven seconds, out. I massaged the sensitive pressure points between my thumb and index finger. Migraines make me delirious. There was a const buzzing in the back of my head. I was sweating and probably had a fever. After a while, I lost track of time and finally passed out. I was hiking a path that looked familiar with my mom and
Peppa. I felt like I was back at the farm, but could recognize some of the spots because I had just hit them earlier that day. We continued forward, and for some reason, my mom insisted that she separate from the back. I was severely against it, but my grandfather didn't seem to care. Next thing, I know, my Grandpa and I are trekking down a hillside toward a bank and a creek. A strange feeling overwhelmed me, and I knew something was wrong. Peppa stopped in his tracks and I was
already halted. I could feel that something was hiding behind one of the thicker trees. We crept at an angle until we got a visual. Finally I locked eyes on it. This thing looked like a black faced baboon. It looked like this thing was wearing a charcoal colored Jabbawaukee's mask. The creature's skin was ashy gray and badly burnt by the sun. The lurker was terrifying. I was paralyzed in my steps and just let out a loud shriek. That
was my only defense. My body couldn't physically move. I felt the leer. The creature was around the same height as me, but could have been eighty years old. It's hard to put an age on something so obscure. The burnt skin and the black eyes are what stood out to me. I just wanted to run towards my mom and make sure she was safe. Then there was a banging on the glass. They say, you don't gotta go home, but you can't stay. I don't try, try, try everything.
Call it baby, baby joy for me to stay right you call it right away. Don't turn back for because don't come backs us to US, USS to us, to use jasus