Archive 124 Bigfoot

near the Cimarron River. Down by the river, there were a lot of cottonwood trees and a lot of shrubs and thick undergrowth. One day, I decided to call my cousin and see if he wanted to go out hunting or shoot some targets for fun. It was on a Sunday afternoon that we went out. We didn't have much luck hunting rabbits, so we decided to go tar get

shooting instead. At the time, we were close to the river, and I remembered seeing an old abandoned junkyard on the banks of the river, close to the bridge that went over the river. I couldn't park very close to the junkyard because I was so close to the end of the bridge, and it wasn't safe to park there, so we decided to park on the other side of the river and walk across to the junkyard. Now I have to explain that the river most of the time was dry. The only time it would run is if there was

a big flood further upstream from us. Once we got to the other side, I parked my dad's pickup truck and we got ready to go shoot some bottles and cans. And there was an old washing machine that had to have been thrown away and we wanted to shoot it it too. I got out of the pickup truck and started to load my twenty two pump rifle. All of a sudden I heard something I had never heard before. I heard something walking on two feet like a man,

but it was a lot bigger and heavier. The thing that amazed me about this sound it was coming from downstream from us and on the other side of the river. It must have been close to a half mile away, but I could hear it walking from that far. Every time it took a step, it sounded like it was crushing things under its weight. Whatever it was, it was really big and powerful, and when I heard it. I looked over to the other side of the pickup and

I asked my cousin, did you hear that. He said, he heard something, but it was probably somebody's bull that got loose, and it was looking for some cows in the woods. Well, I thought to myself, well, maybe he's right. So I shrugged it off and I kept loading my rifle. By the time I got finished loading, the walking sound had stopped. I didn't hear any more sound, so my cousin and I started walking across the dry river bed.

When we got about halfway across the river, my cousin saw a few beer cans someone had thrown out of their car, and at this time we were almost directly under the bridge. My cousin said, Hey, there's some cans over there. Let's stop and shoot them for a minute, and so we did. Then my cousin was shooting at the cans, and all of a sudden he stopped and looked at the other side of the river. Well, I was watching the cans as he shot, so I didn't

see what he saw. I asked him what he saw, and he told me that he saw something really big and dark colored looking at us from behind. Some tall bushes. Well, this kind of scared me, and I said maybe we should go back to the pickup truck and go home. But my cousin was determined to get to that junkyard so that we could start to walk toward the other side of the river. The brush on the other side of the river was very thick and tall, and you

couldn't see more than twenty feet ahead of you. We were getting close to the river bank when all of a sudden, a giant branch out of a tree came crashing down. Well, this scared my cousin and I half to death. The branch was so big the only thing that could have torn it down was a piece of heavy equipment like a tractor with a big chain. It was really unbelievable. My cousin and I slowly backed away.

He wanted to shoot in there blindly, but I stopped him, and I said that our twenty two rifle would just make it mad if we shot at it, and it might come out and kill us. So we backed off as quickly as we could, and when we had backed up about fifty yards, the bigfoot or whatever it was, started running away from us through the thick trees and a heavy brush. Well, I was happy it ran away from us, but I was amazed by the speed and power, because it sounded like a bulldozer going through the brush.

It was knocking branches out of the trees and crushing anything in its way. Not only was it powerful, but it was unbelievably fast. It was running through the brush as fast as a race horse. And when my cousin and I heard that, we turned and ran back across the river, got in my dad's pickup, and we tore out of there. Cam This scared me so bad that I stayed away from that river for twenty years, and to this day, I will only drive by it, but I never get out. Thank you for letting me write

my encounter. I'm sorry I'm not a better writer. I hope you can make sense out of what I wrote. Thank you for being a good Christian and a fellow brother in Christ. You can use my name. It's Nolan. And then he got thank you, Nolan. And then he followed up with another email and he wrote this, I wrote a little bit earlier, and if I got to mention a few things about my encounter. Number one, I did not smell anything that smelled bad. Maybe the wind

was in the wrong direction to catch the scent. I think catching the scent would have let us know that something was wrong. Number two, I don't remember hearing anything before the branch was wrapped out of the tree. I think when Bigfoot wants to, he can be very quiet when he's sneaking up on someone or on a deer or rabbits or whatever. That's what makes him real scary to me, also a great hunter. Well that's about all I had to add to my story. Thanks Nolan, Well, Nolan,

thanks for the story. This was back in let's see, nineteen seventy six. That's a long time ago. That's when kids would really ride around in trucks. They'd be thirteen or fourteen years old, ride around in trucks and shooting cans and snakes and turtles with twenty twos. Of course, I don't recommend shooting wildlife with twenty twos, but that's what kids did. They just rode around and shot rifles off of bridges and stuff. Heck, I like doing that as an adult. So the story was a little nostalgic

to me, but it's a great encounter story. Olan. Thank you for sending it. I know we all enjoyed it. And it happened in southwest Kansas, of all places. Can you believe that? Thank you, Nolan. Here's a pretty good story from South Mississippi. I think you guys will appreciate this one. My story begins when I was eight years old. I'm forty now, and I grew up in deep southern Mississippi. And that's all I'm really willing to say about the location. My mom, dad, and two sisters and I lived on

my grandparents' property where my grandfather had cattle. We lived towards the front of the property, and my grandparents lived a way in the back. The road dead ended at their brick house, where my grandmother had at least one hundred azalea bushes out front. I don't recall the exact year, but I do recall it with spring because the azaleas

were in full bloom. It was a beautiful sight to come around the bend in the road to see my grandmother's azaleas and all their My grandparents had several businesses, so they were always gone. Living in the country and thirty miles from the nearest store, my mother would often find it easier to send me down to their house to raid the cupboards for a missing items she might need than to drive into town. It was a walk I made a thousand times, and one I loved, especially

in the spring. Sadly, that day my opinion would change forever. I don't remember the item my mother had sent me to retrieve, but I was eager to get out of the house. I couldn't wait to see all those azalea bushes, so I took off down the road, completely unaware of what was in store. When I got to the first straightaway, I caught movement to my right, just inside the woods. I was no stranger to those woods. I knew them

like the back of my hand. I got to know the woods through one hundred imaginary deer hunts and squirrel hunts with my Daisy pellet rifle. So even though the movement stopped me dead in my tracks, I wasn't afraid. I thought it was one of my grandfather's cows that had gone out of its pasture. It had its back to me, so all I really saw was something big and red, reddish brown in color. Just as I began to resign myself to the thought of having to wrangle

the wayward cow. It stood up on two legs. It stepped over a five strand barbed wire fence like it was nothing. My mind was screaming that it was a bear. Even the thought of being a bear was enough to scare me to death. And I just stood there in shock or amazement or fear. I can't say now. I just know I stood there for what felt like minutes, but I'm certain was only seconds. At some point I snapped out of it and turned to run as fast

as I could back to my house. There was no way I was coming back through these woods with that big thing out there. Even as I turned to run, my curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn't resist looking back. The monstrous thing was staring at me, and it was huge. It was a huge figure with its hands resting on the top strand of the barbed wire. I didn't want to see its face, so I made tracks for home. I got back to the house, where I'm sure Mom was expecting me to have whatever items

she needed from Grandma's kitchen. I didn't give her time to ask. Out of breath and hands on my knees and gasping for air, all I could say was, there's a bear down there. Mom. Mom said that I must have been imagining things. She insisted that I get back down there and get what she needed. We do not have bears in these woods, she said. I couldn't bring myself to tell her or anyone else that what I saw really wasn't a bear, and I didn't want to be laughed at. Now I was pretty darn sure my

mom was right. There weren't any bears in those woods. I refused to walk back to Grandma's house, so Mom finally agreed to drive me. I showed her where I saw it, but of course it was gone. I never told anyone except my mom because I was certain i'd be laughed at. As time went on, though, I think Mom began to believe that I saw something that day. Before that day, I was never one to stay inside. Suddenly I was perfectly fine with being indoors, and she

would ask me to describe it to her. So I did. And back then I didn't know anything about bigfoot. The old timers would talk about buggers, but I never really put all that together until recently. Years passed and I got into my thirties, and by then I had decided that one incident wasn't going to keep me out of the woods. I had gained permission to hunt a prime track of woods that were perfect for getting a good buck.

I took my younger brother and stepbrother along with me, and I sent them to a good box stand where they could hunt together while I took off with my climber for the deep woods. There was a spot where I knew the big ones would be. I was walking to this perfect spot and the deeper end of the woods, I got the more of a creepy feeling I got about the place. It was like I was being watched. I started hearing noises in the bush when I walked,

but it stopped when I stopped. Now, I told myself it was just me being rattled by being so deep in the woods, until I started climbing up the perfect pine tree and my old man climber and started getting rocks thrown at me. I yelled out that whoever was throwing the rocks was on private property, but dead silence was my only answer at first, and then the god awfless scream I've ever heard in my life came belting out of the woods. It felt like it vibrated the

true and it shook me to my core. I'm really not gonna lie about it. I climbed down out of that tree and got back to my truck as fast as I could, leaving my old man climber right where I'm sure it still hangs today. I threw open the truck door, jumped inside, and cranked her up, and I was about to tear out of there when I remembered my brother and step brother. Oh well, I thought it'll be dark soon enough and they'll come out. And it wasn't long before I heard footsteps coming up to the

side of the truck. I was looking at my phone and I assumed it was my two brothers, and I never bothered looking up. One of them jumped into the back of the truck, and I thought, yep, that's got to be my step brother. He's six foot four tall and easily weighs three hundred pounds. I couldn't imagine anything

else that could rock the truck like that. After a bit, when there was no noise, no truck shaking, and only pure silence, I opened the door to see what was going on, and that's when I salt their flashlight coming up the road. What did you guys forget? I called, Well, they looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, huh. I told them that they'd come to the truck and put something in the back, and now they were walking up the road, so I figured they must have forgotten

something and gone back to get it. They said no, that they were just now coming out of the woods. For the first time, I could tell that they were telling the truth, and I kept hoping they'd burst out laughing at any moment, but they never did. They got in the truck and we left. I have not been back to those woods, and I've spent a lot of

time mulling over these events. What did I see in the woods that day on my way to my grandmother's And what in this world could have screened at me in the woods or made my truck rock like that. I'm content to believe that whatever it was did not want me there for whatever reason, and I'm happy to oblige. Oh dude, that's a good story. South missus Sippy gets a lot of these stories. Really, the whole state does, and I don't Mississippi Alabama. Here's the point. These things

apparently are everywhere. There's some form of these creatures all over the United States. The only place I haven't heard of encounters like this, and I'm just thinking off the top of my head is the Great Plains States, you know, the middle of the United States where the Great Grass Plains are, think a little big horn that type of area, because there's no cover, there's no place for them to go, and those you know, those are just just grasslands, is

what they are. So I don't recall having a story from there, but in any place that's wooded, especially in the southeast or the East, or the Pacific Northwest, not necessarily the desert, although Arizona has a few with the mogion thing. Anyway, I'm just I'm just talking out loud. I don't know what I'm talking about, but all these thoughts come to my head and just I don't know,

they've just come out of my mouth. But I'm just thinking about when was the last time that I got a story from those Great Plains or like the deserts of southern California, for example. But anyway, this is a great story, and I really appreciate the man riding in. I've had it for a long time and i've been anxious to get it out, so there you go.