Archive 130 Bigfoot Encounters

a higher elevation. His idea was that the deer were up there and we just needed to get to him. We started to track up the hill and fought briars and brambles the whole way. We were exhausted when we got to the top. When we reached the top, we walked around the ridge trying to get a better look at the terrain below. When we walked up on a large structure, tree lambs were formed into an almost perfect shelter. I assumed someone had built this, but looking closer, it

became clear this was not built by human hands. It was well built too, because my son crawled on top of it and walked around it never gave an inch built on the edge of a steep drop off. Made me a bit nervous, so I got him to jump down and we backed away. We sat down and we had a smoke. Then he asked if I could detect a strong odor. I couldn't smell anything due to an accident years ago that took away my sense of smell, but he said it was strong. The first guess was

that Bigfoot had built this thing. We both laughed that off and decided to move on back down the hill. Taking a different route, we exited the thick brush and we stood on a ledge. It gave us a great view of the valley below. In the distance, on the opposite hillside, I saw a dark figure scaling the mountain. I thought it was a bear, but I've never heard of bear in this area. I just watched for a

minute to see better. I raised my rifle scope to my eye and I could clearly see this thing was on two legs and it was covered in dark hair. I asked my son to keep it in his scope while I dug for a camera that I carried on all my hunts. It took me forever to dig this camera out, and while I was doing that, my son lowered his rifle to look at me and ask what was taking so long, And when he got the object back in his scope, it was just going over the

top of the hill. Neither of us could believe that that thing made it up that hill so fast, but it was gone. In my mind it was a bear. It had to be. The day was shot, so we headed back to the true up. We were about halfway back to the truck and a rock whizzed by our heads and tumbled off into the brush. We stopped and looked around for the person who had thrown it, but we never saw anyone. Then I realized it had to be my brother messing with us, so I called him

on the two way radio. He was close to the truck and emphatically insisted that he had not walked up that mountain. It was getting close to dark by now. We had not seen or heard an animal all day, no insects, birds, nothing. As we walked onto the truck, something was tracking us in the brush. While we walked. Whatever was in the woods walked. If we stopped, it stopped. Limbs and twigs broke in the distance. We stopped and called out, hoping to get an answer from someone, maybe

we were on someone else's land. We got no answer, and then I recall our joking that Bigfoot had built that structure that we had found, and now I wasn't laughing at that idea. The whole thing gave me an uneasy feeling. So we wasted no more time and we made it to the truck and out of the area in a hurry. Finally back at the truck, and a bit unnerved, we started unloading our rifles and throwing our gear in the bed. We sat on the tailgate waiting for my brother to show up. I heard something in

the brush off to my right. It was rustling in the brush, and then, like a bat out of hell, it took off running. And whatever it was it was big. It was crashing and tearing through the tangled mess like a bulldozer. It's hard to explain how this experience affected me. It really shook me up. If I heard an elephant crashing through the brush, I think it would sound the same. In the distance, I heard a sound that I will

never be able to replicate. It was a sort of a howl or scream, and it was terrifying to my ears. The radio cracked and it was my brother asking us if we had kicked up a deer, to which we both immediately responded no, and to get back to the truck we needed to go. He finally walked up and I hurriedly pushed him in the truck. I started the engine and I threw gravel behind me as I sped away. And on the drive home, we recounted the story to him and he was sure that we had encountered a bear.

My son and I we knew it wasn't a bear. We knew exactly what this thing was. The next year, we were told that this piece of land was posted and we no longer had permission to hunt it. That was fine with me. I wasn't going back to that place anyway. We got permission to hunt land not far from this location the next year. There are signs of bigfoot on this property too, but they never messed with us, so we continued to hunt it. This year, I'm staying out of the woods. I have concluded that we are

invading their territory and it must cause them stress. I don't want to do that to these creatures. I've studied the phenomenon lately and learned quite a bit and I think they are closer to humans than we think. This is not an average animal, so from now on I'm going to be staying out of their habitat. I have a few stories to tell. The first one is my father in law's and it was told to me by

my wife. This occurred in Salibas, Indonesia. I think I pronounced the town right around nineteen seventy give or take. Salivas is a horseshoe shaped island near Borneo. My wife's father recounted this story to her, and it happened on a cross country motorcycle trip when he was around fifty five. My wife's English is not very good, so I'm translating this from Indonesian. Getting all the details as a bit

of a chore. Also, her father passed away five years ago, so some of the story may have been lost to memory. He was trying to save time on this trip, so instead of following the highway, he cut across the wilderness. It really was cross country, and as he was traveling, the bike suddenly felt like a big weight had been added to it and it wouldn't move forward anymore. He got off the bike to see what was the matter,

and behind him stood a huge person. In fear, he dropped to his knees to pray, thinking he was about to die. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was its feet. After a while, he opened his eyes and it was gone. My impression is that my father in law referred to this thing as a person because he had no other term to describe it. He never saw the face, nor did he describe in detail what the legs and feet look like, other than

that they were huge. The fact that he was so close to it but didn't see the head should provide some idea of how big this thing was. He would have to look up to see the face, but he was too terrified to do that. I would guess it must have been a minimum of seven and a half feet tall, maybe even taller. Apparently, this thing came up behind his motorcycle and held on to the back to stop it. My father in law never saw it until he got off the bike, by which point it had

to be only a few feet away. He never mentioned that it had an odor or made any sound. I believe the incident took place at dusk, so he wouldn't have been able to see much since there are no lights in the jungle. My wife said her father told her this story only once. I think as a cautionary tale. He wanted his family to know it was dangerous out there. He told her that the story scared him as much now as it had years later. It was like it

only happened yesterday. My next story comes from my wife's grandfather, and it happened on the same island, but a different part of it. I'm not sure on the time, maybe the early nineteen hundreds, and it may have happened as recently as nineteen twenty. My wife's grandfather and some friends of his were going hunting. It was a large hunting party of about ten people, and they decided to explore a cave they'd found at the bottom of a ravine.

They were looking for bird droppings or guano. They heard something from inside and it startled them enough to make them start running. Most of them scrambled up and out of the ravine, but one person fell back down. They threw a rope down to him to help him, but he told them he couldn't climb out. Something was holding his foot. They heard more noises, like people scurrying around. They were loud, marching noises. It wasn't just one or two people or whatever they were, It sounded like a

whole group of them. The others fled in fear, leaving the man to fend for himself, and he was never seen again. This story, like my father in laws, was told to warn the children of the dangers of the jungle. These men apparently stumbled on a bunch of or a society of some kind of creature. They never actually had visual contact, but what they heard terrified them so much that ten well armed men ran like helpless children and abandoned one of their own to die. Getting these stories

and getting accurate details was difficult. I would think I had it and then ask another question, and her answer to it would shed a whole new light on what she was trying to describe. I think I finally got all the pertinent information. Though these last encounters are my own, and at the time I was in the wilderness working as a paramilitary contractor, it was over a decade ago, so some of the minor details may be hard to recall,

but I will do my best. I was part of a four man teams sent to prep camp for training exercises that were being held near the California Oregon border. The first night, it was just the members of the advanced team. Our intel told us that bears were unheard of here. Mountain lions were becoming common, but not to the point that we expected to see any I don't recall any information on non predators, but I'm sure there were deer and probably wild boar in the area as well.

I was sleeping in a small one man dome tent, barely big enough to hold me. Head and feet were lightly touching the walls. I had covered the tent with camo panels and placed a sheet of clear plastic underneath that extended eight inches beyond the tent walls. The weather was damp and drizzly, and this kept the muddy, wet ground from soaking into the tent floor. In the field, I would normally not even use a tent, much less

a sheet of plastic. It didn't take long for the falling pine needles to cover the plastic, making it invisible. It was a rocky, forested terrain with lots of trees and pine needle covering the ground. Large mossy boulders stuck out here and there between the trees. Once I was finished camouflaging my tent. It looked like one of those boulders. A few of us who were there did not make our camps together. We were maybe two hundred feet apart.

Due to the heavily wooded terrain, we were completely out of sight of each other. We were running twenty four hour watch, so in the middle of the night, when I was done with my turn, I headed back to my tent. I found it with difficulty. It was camoed up really good, and I fell asleep. Some time later, I was awakened by the sound of something stepping on the plastic sheeting right by my head. This thing's foot and my head couldn't have been more than twelve inches apart.

There was nothing between us except a wall of fabric. Maybe two seconds later I heard two very strong sniffs. Something with huge nostrils was sniffing me. Its nose was just a few inches from my ear. These nostrils were definitely larger than man's sized. At that time, I didn't believe in bigfoot, and I never heard of dog Man. Also, I slept with a loaded forty five pistol on my right hip and a marine k bar knife on my left. Plus I was well trained in how to use both

of them, and I wasn't scared. I was, however, very tired, so I just closed my eyes and I went back to sleep. Looking back, I realized that it should have made the same noise when it removed its foot as it did when it stepped on the plastic. I never heard it make that noise, so it must have still been standing there when I fell back to sleep. The next day, I looked around for a bit of tracks,

but there were none. Now I ask around the morning fire who was snooping around my tent, but everyone denied it. I knew it couldn't be any of them because I wasn't in the type of group to joke around. Everyone was armed and very serious about their job. We don't play silly pranks like that. People could get killed. Whatever it was that sniffed at me that night didn't fit anything in my reality, so I just pushed it out

of my mind. It wasn't until years later, when a friend started sending me tons of stories on bigfoot encounters, that I started noticing similarities between many of them and some of the aspects of my own strange encounter. Meanwhile, I couldn't attribute it to being a bear because there were none in that area and it seemed way too big to be a mountain line. The next day the trainees arrived and I was part of the opt for opfoor.

I'm not sure what that means. My job was overwatched, so I set up my sign grid and picked out a spot with a good view of the area. I only had to watch in one direction. If they were coming, I knew from which direction it would be. I was well camouflaged, and plus I found a small depression in a few inches deep, big enough for me to lay in, and I dragged a dead branch over the top of me. And as long as I didn't move, I wasn't going to be seen. We used throat mics and earpieces for communication,

so radio noise was never an issue. I was lying on my belly on the ground. I could feel someone walking up behind me. I thought maybe it was someone from the training exercise and had gotten around me and was coming up on my position. I kept still so as not to give myself away. I knew from experience that people can almost be standing on top of me and not see me. As long as I didn't move, I waited for what felt like an eternity, nothing moved.

I didn't feel the movement anymore, so I finally looked back and there was nothing there. Looking back on that event, I don't think I could have felt a man walking up behind me. I later found out that there was never anyone from our group in that area beside me. The whole thing was just very odd. I definitely felt someone, that is, something by petal coming up on me. I'm not sure what to make of all that. That general area is, as everyone knows, a place where cryptid sightings

are comparedatively more common than most. One strange take from this is how I was willing to ignore my instincts in these situations that defied rational explanation, and according to my worldview at the time, as I've been a hunter all my life, of both man, not only in times of war and beasts, though the lines between both seemed to get blurred. I was a middle aged man once in the prime of my life. I was always outdoors,

enjoying the seasons. I find the woodlands, even with what I know to be a peaceful place, do I fear the woods well? A man can be peaceful when he is scared of something. You learn this on the battlefield given time. I know courage is facing one's fear head on. But still I say, I'm not courageous. I'm just ignorant

of the times. My stories start. As I said, in the prime of my life was in the nineteen seventies, A hundred for money, good money, and when not doing something for Uncle Sam, I was a guide and a tracker. I never had one place to call home. It's easier when you're not attached to leave things behind, knowing you may not see it again. I was working in the area of northeastern Alaska. I was deep in the woodlands

along the river. Huh Okay. This story has a couple of words in it that I'm going to have trouble with. But he says he was deep in the woodlands along a river near Vinettai ven Tie. You guys look it up. I had been here for months, enjoying the weather. At this time it was summer, but at night you would still freeze if you didn't know better. I was out for my cabin, checking my traps and jigging for fish, and enjoying the day. I kept an eye out for

grizzlies and wolves. And polar bears or any predators. Man is not at the top of the food chain there, and I didn't know of Bigfoot or believe any of the local legends of such creatures or others. For that manner, I thought it was all malarkey, bullshit, At least I did at one time until that day. I was hooking fish out of the river with a gaff hook. This is a large piece of steel shaped like a hook, as thick as your pinky finger, and attached to a six foot pole. I did this so I didn't have

to go into the water as much. I had been catching fish most of the day. I had a good catch held up off the ground between two trees. They were twenty feet off the ground and held by a rope. The rope was made of thick hemp. I just caught a good forty pound fish and was coming back to my cash of fish when I noticed the line was no no longer where I placed it. I remember looking between the trees, dumbfounded they were not there, nor was

my rope. As I came closer to the trees, a smell like rotten wet dirt mixed with urine and blood hit my nose and made me stop in my tracks. That copper tone of blood is what made me stop. It had to be wolves. Wolves are known to roll in the mud and blood after fighting for a place at a kill. My head was on a swivel as I looked around, and I pulled my thirty six to ready, but paused as I noticed the tracks around the trees

were those of a person. Though they were bigger. They appeared to be barefoot, but maybe I was reading them wrong. It wasn't uncommon for tribal members to take fish and take them back to town if they found them in the woods unattended. Knowing that, I followed the trail to catch up with them and get my fish back, or at least be compensated well. After a few steps, I had to stop because none of this made any sense. The

stride for this person was too long. I was walking in damp earth and the tracks were clear, but every three steps I took was one stride for this being. Given the size of these tracks. I assessed my losses and I went back in and decided to head close to my cabin and fish there. I didn't want to meet this person or thing on the trail whatever it was. When I was close to my camp, I went to retrieve my three point fifty seven. The one thing that

kept hitting me was the feeling of being watched. I learned long ago not to ignore my gut, so I kept looking around from time to time. The scent of blood and dirt kept hitting me as I went about my business, and I decided to smoke as many fish as I could. The smoke would keep the bears and wolves at bay for enough time. I then went into town in case someone was messing with me, and I wanted to talk to the tribal chief at the time

and see if anyone knew what was going on. When I spoke to the man, he actually looked at me in the eyes without a blink. He said, you're lucky, you're alive. Okay, here's another one of those words. You're a yearly. You're a yearly, you are a y u l I will kill you, he said. I think that stands for Bigfoot. So he said, you're lucky, you're alive. Bigfoot will kill you. I asked him what do I do, and I will never forget his words. He said, go home, fish and hunt, but leave some for him. Then he

will leave you alone. Well, I retorted, you know, I don't believe all this bullshit, and he said you will, and then he asked me to leave. After two days of fishing and hunting, nothing happened. I would fish and leave one for every two I caught, for every animal I hunted or trapped, and I would leave a portion hanging in a tree. To be honest, I didn't take it very seriously. But on the third day, I decided to start early, so I got up and had some pickled eggs and meat. I came out the door and

I could smell it. It was hot copper and the smell of fresh blood. I looked around and thirty feet from my cabin, there it was as plain as day, looking right at me. And I'll never forget that look on this creature's face. I don't know why, but I spoke to him. For some reason. I wasn't scared, hello, I said, He just stared at me with a stone face. He was big, at least nine feet tall, if not tall. He was covered in shaggy hair, was white to gray with some black mixed in here and there. He had

the look of a bodybuilder through all that hair. I know it was just a few moments, but I swear he nodded at me, and I'm not sure, but I know one thing. He did smile and showed his teeth, and they looked like ours, but they had pronounced canines. I was shocked when he spoke something to me, and what I found out was Inuit. He moved his arm out to its sides and then turned and walked away. It moved gracefully, without a sound, and this chillney to

the bone. The tribal group here called them the silent Death, and now I knew why. I waited a bit and gathered some things. Looking around as I did, I found a grizzly bear at the foot of my cash and it was dead. Its blood was the smell that I was tasting in the air. It was a fresh kill, and the jaws were pulled apart from the head. And when I tried to tell the chief about it, he was as dismayed as I was. But he told me that it called me brother and said the land will provide.

But he said this as a warning too, and I was just meet to this being. When I returned to my cabin, the bear was gone, but in its place was a caribou with its neck broken. Until I was married, I left half of my kill for these beings out of respect as well as fear. I believe that there are tribes of these things, each different just as we are, but in their own unique way. Lucky I never had to hunt them, but I have heard rumors that our government does regularly,