Archive 134 Fight for Survival

don't let them know it. It's not that I don't like being in nature. My thing is hiking, and if any one of them would take a minute to notice, they'd all see that I hike a lot deeper into the woods than any of them ever hunted. I don't carry weapons. I only carry bear spray. I know the truth, though, I know that I go farther and harder than any of them just to take long walks in the woods. In their minds, the fact that they kill animals with weapons,

they're more macho than I am. But I know for a fact that none of them could keep up with me for even a half day. Hike. I can outperform any of them, but I never say a word. Hiking is my favorite thing to do in my favorite places in the woods alone, just me and the trails and the animals and the fresh air. In my endurance, I come alive out there, or I did until last month. Now I don't care if I ever go into the woods again. There are monsters in the woods, folks, I

have seen them. Fall is a busy hiking season. Everyone wants to see the trees in full color. And if you're serious about hiking, like I am or what it means, you have to go pretty deep in the woods to get away from the day hikers. Otherwise you're just going to be tripping over the amateurs and not seeing anything because they're always so noisy that they chase animals away.

And if you want to really enjoy the scenery and all that nature has to offer, then you'd better get there early, and I mean a day or two early, and plan on hiking in with your camping gear and enough supplies to stay a couple of days. I park my car at the trailhead early on Wednesday. I figured I'd hike up for two days and then hike back down for two days and be home in my own bed by Sunday night and ready for work on Monday. Always check the weather before I leave, and then I

do a gear check. Now I'm an ultra light hiker with a hammock and a light down sleeping bag, a microstove in just enough calories that I need to go as far as I like to go. I carry a change of clothes, a compass, a first date kitting, a knife. The less I carry, the lighter my backpack is, which means I can go farther. Hikers who are in shape and condition like me can run out of steam pretty

fast with an extra heavy pack. I've seen them leave the trail many times just because their packs are too heavy, and a man learns to get by with a little. And the goal is not the gear, it's the trail. This is something my brothers will never understand, their gear freaks. I had picked a difficult trail to hike because I knew there weren't a lot of day hikers. It's only well maintained for the first couple of miles, and after that you have to know what you're doing to go

any further. I was headed all the way to the top of this mountain. So I checked my watch and I stepped onto the trail. It was seven forty three am at noon. I stopped for a break and to take in the view of the valley below me. The trees had been bit this year. It was already a blaze of reds and golds, with bright splotches of yellow and dark patches of brown. There's something about sitting up there looking down on the world. A lot of people

say it's humbling, but not for me. For me, it's empowering. By the time I set up camp the first night, civilization felt like another planet away. I picked a small clearing that gave me a decent but limited view of the night sky. The weather man assured me that I would have clear sailing, and he was right. If you've ever seen the sky without light pollution, you've never really seen the sky. I went ahead and ate a couple of power bars and drank some water, and I climbed

into my hammock. Now nothing wears a body out like a long walk. I figured I'd be asleep within minutes, and I probably would have, but for one thing. It was too quiet. And when you go as far as this. There's also the absence of sound pollution. You can't hear cars and diesels rolling down the interstate. You can't hear radios blasting music, or people chattering or kids playing, because it's just you out there. But even then there is always some sort of noise. There's insects and small critters

and coyotes. I was lying there in my hammock that night, I didn't hear any of that. It was so weird that it made me a bit nervous to make matters worse. And maybe because of that, I started feeling like I was being watched, and I didn't sleep well that night. The next morning, I discovered that the weather man had lied to me. The brilliant blue sky I had hiked under the day before was turning gray. So I had

to make a decision. I could continue my hike up on the mountain, or I could turn around and head back down. The third option was to stay where I was and then head down the next day. I hadn't slept well the night before and had to do with my decision. I didn't feel like going anywhere. I felt like sleeping a few more hours, so option three it was. I made some coffee, and I ate a power bar

before climbing back into my hammock. I lay there and broad daylight, still conscious of the fact that there were no normal sounds of nature around me. But by now the sky was dark enough and the clouds overhead were full enough that I figured it was the rain coming in that had kept them silent. After a while, I decided that I wasn't going to sleep, and the sky was looking bad enough that I should try to get as far down the mountain as I could before the

clouds burst open and drenched me. It was around noon when I started back down the mountain, but the sky was as dark as dusk. To be safe, I had already pulled out my headlamp from my backpack and I was wearing it. Then the rain came. It didn't start with a sprinkle, the heavy drops and then a solid sheet of rain. It came down all at once, as if God had dumped a bucket of water on me. Usually when it rains a heart it doesn't last for long, but I must have walked for an hour in that downpour.

It wasn't long before I began to feel like my bone marrow was saturated, my eyes burned from constantly wiping them, and the damn headlight began to short out the sound of the rain beating the leaves off the trees, drowned out all the other sounds in the forest. I don't really know what I expected to hear in this weather. Any creature with any common sense at all was holed up in a den somewhere. But every now and then I heard a crack of a branch that I didn't

think was caused by the storm. Maybe it was like a sleep from the night before, and maybe I was just weirded out by the weather. Whatever the case, I could not get over the feeling that I was still being watched and followed. When I couldn't take it anymore, I started looking for a good spot to wade out the rain. I was hoping for a cave, but even a wide spot on the trail where I could hang up my hammocked tarp would have been good enough for me.

Looking around and seeing shadows in the woods freaked me out a little. Occasionally lightning would strike and I'd see something large moving. At first I would think it was a tree, but then it would move, and then a bolt of lightning crack the sky open and I saw it. I've never believed in bigfoot. It was a joke to me, and I had not thought about it ever. So what was standing in the woods twenty feet from me? It was ten feet tall, covered in shaggy brown hair, except

its face was clean looking. The size of the thing was scary enough, but it was the face that scared me the most. Its skin was dark, and its mouth was wide, and it's an oscar seemed to be flaring like it was angry, and I locked eyes with it and saw something that I can't quite put my finger on. It didn't take long to decide that this thing wanted to kill me and eat me. That was plain to see. It opened its mouth like it was stretching its jaws, its fangs hung down like a baboon. I'm sure you've

seen the pictures of the videos. It wasn't a yawn. He was showing me his teeth. My head would have fit into his mouth. And that's when panics set in. I don't know when or where I dropped my backpack, but it wasn't with me anymore. The trail had turned to a mud slick. I moved my feet, I think, and there was no grip to the earth, but I ran anyway, abandoning the rules of what humans should do when facing a predator. I ran like hell. Trees started

snapping and cracking behind me. Was on from that first step, and I knew I was a dead man. I wasn't thinking at all. I was just running. I felt the vibrations of his feet hitting the ground behind me, getting closer. I heard the heavy rush of air being sucked into and pushed out of its lungs, and ahead of me,

the trail made a sharp turn. I knew I was going too fast in that slippery clay, but I wasn't about to slow down, so I launched myself into the woods like I was diving off into a swimming pool. It would only buy me a few feet before it caught up, but I wasn't giving up yet, and instead of hitting the ground, I was snatched backward by the shirt and this thing's nails dug into my back. It turned me around to face it, and I was fighting

like hell, kicking and throwing punches. I didn't hurt this thing a bit, but I remember it squinting its eyes when I would hit it in the face. The eyes it was closing its eyes voluntarily to avoid my punches, and then I remembered the bear spray on my belt. In a fast, lucky grab, it came free from the holster and I sprayed that bastard square in the face.

Apparently it released me and swung at me. At the same time I assumed to knock that can of burning the shit out of my eye stuff out of my hand, and then everything went black. I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I was lying next to a pile of bones. I don't know what kind of bones they were. I remember deer skulls and other critters, but when I saw a human skull over at the edge, I knew I was in trouble. I heard something grunning. I remembered it from our fight.

It has been over a pool of water, washing the bear spray out of its eyes. Hell. Yes, I thought this thing's gonna kill me, but I heard it, and that gave me a sense of victory. The desire to keep fighting and live was still there, and I looked for a way out of there. The trail we must have come in. One was off to my left. I put my hand in the mud to get off the ground, and pain shot up my arm. I looked down and I could see plainly that my wrist was broken, and

I admit that tears rolled off my face. The broken bones might be the worst pain ever. I lifted my head and that monster had jumped up and was looking at me with those red, swollen eyes, and I pointed at it and I laughed out loud. Maybe I knew everything was lost, and those blistered eyes just set me off. You ain't gonna forget me, you son of a bitch. That's exactly what I said to that bigfoot. It came across that pile of bones and smelly rot, and it snatched me up by my head, palming it like a

basket ball. It shook me, wrenching my neck, and then it started to squeeze. My skull was about to collapse. I was going to be defied to the end. And I stared it straight in the eyes and I started swinging again, trying to connect with its face, but my arms wouldn't reach it. That mouth came open and those teeth came out, and its breath was horrible. He was enjoying this. I could see that plainly, and I was

about to black out, halfway between dead and alive. I remember feeling a swift gust of wind and then falling to the ground on my broken arm. I waited on my senses to come back from that head vice that he had me in and trying to get the pressure off my arm, and I didn't see where the monster went. I wasn't even thinking about it, I think, looking back on it, I was in and out of consciousness, and when I could finally think a little, I had a

grand headache in my arm throb like crazy. There was no way I could get away now, feeling this dazed and confused, but I looked around anyway, trying to figure out a way that I might run. I got to my knees and over that pile of bones, and I saw two of those creatures now, and they were fighting. They looked just alike in my mind, and I watched them, with blurry vision, whip the crap out of each other.

They were biting and hitting each other. In any other setting, it would have been awesome to watch, but I knew they were fighting over which one was going to eat me. I had to find a way and get out of there. I didn't know where I was, and there was no time to look at my compass if I had even been able to find my compass. There was a path to my left, I remembered, and it went downhill, and that is where I wanted to go, downhill and off

this mountain. I staggered that way. There was but a few steps, and I got my balance and I was running. Fifteen minutes or so later, I had to stop and catch my breath. That's when my arms started aching again, and I was getting dizzy, and I wondered what sort of damage that thing had done to my brain. But I was on my feet and I started running again, always downhill. I wondered if the fight was over, and if either one of them even felt like coming after me.

I remember hoping they had heard each other so bad that they would call it quits, but they didn't. Even while running and heaving, I could hear that thing coming after me, like a bulldozer off the hill behind me. I was staying on the trail, but this thing was bushwhacking straight at me through the thick woods like it was nothing. I didn't know if I could get away this time. I guess I figured it was over once again. But I had made it this far. Maybe I had

a chance if I could just keep going. I had it straight down the trail and ran with all the strength that I had left. That's all I could do. A head I could see daylight through the trees, as if there was a clearing. I thought it was a field maybe, which was not good. For some reason, it felt better in the trees and the brush. In my mind. At least that was something between it and me. In a field, i'd be easy to catch. I don't know

why I thought these things. I guess our mind naturally works out any advantage that we can while in a situation like this. But the daylight I saw wasn't a field or a clearing. It was a ledge. It was a top of a bluff that dropped down into a river or a stream. I realized this after I fell several feet and saw the water coming up at me. When I hit the water, the cold felt good to me, almost like freedom. I hit the rocky bottom and luckily

didn't break my arm worse than it was. My head popped out of the water, and I looked back up at the spot where I think I fell from, and I saw that thing standing at the edge, and it was roaring at me. The current pulled me away from my enemy, and he followed me down the ledge for a distance. I remember turning and looking ahead of me, hoping the bluff that he was on didn't slope down to a bank, because the way he was moving he would have been able to keep up with me and

eventually catch me. But as far as I could see, the bluff stayed at the same elevation where he stood, and it even got higher in some places. Something kept him from jumping in after me. I'll never know what it was, but I'm glad he stayed on the bluff. I let the current just take me down river. A curve in the course of the river ahead took me around to a point where I could not see the monster anymore. I was beginning to think that I might

make it out. I don't know how far I floated down that river, but it wasn't long before I was too cold to stay in the water, and now I was thinking about hyperthermia. At some point I would have to get to the bank and try to warm up. But what I knew for sure was that I would not swim to the side of the river that that thing was on. Ahead, I saw a gravel bar and I started kicking to get there. My feet started digging in the gravel to push me closer and faster, and

I could finally stand up in front of me. In the distance. Down the river, I saw a bridge. There were people on the bridge. I went straight into the river. I could take a few more minutes of cold. I needed help, and there it was, right in front of me. There was a group of kids on the bridge and they saw me, and I could hear them yelling. I managed to work my way to the bank. The first thing I did was look around both banks to see

if I could make out that monster anywhere. I don't know how far I floated down that river, but I had not stopped thinking that he was following me the whole time. But when I looked up, I didn't see it anywhere. I stood up and started walking up to the road. The group of teenagers met me halfway and helped me up to the blacktop. An adult woman ran to me and threw a blanket over my back and shoulders. I was never more happy to see people in all

my life. And not long after that, an ambulance pulled up. Someone must have called nine to eleven. They treated me with what they could and they stabilized my arm, and they loaded me up and took me to the local hospital. The inside of that ambulance was so warm. I remember that vividly. At the hospital, doctors treated my wounds, and they put a cast on my arm, and they gave me some painkillers. I had broken ribs. They said that I had never felt pain from I guess that was

from the tumble into the water. I was kept one night and discharged the next day. Someone from the hospital called a cab to take me to my car, and by that afternoon I was home. Now I'm not a writer, and I don't keep journals. Writing the thoughts and experiences of my life for day or week has always seemed like a waste of time to me. When I got home and after a long sleep, I woke late in the night and I thought that I would try to

write my experience. I knew that as the years passed I would forget the details, maybe forget the whole thing, and sort of a mind preserving blackout scenario, and I wanted to remember everything about this experience, no matter how disturbing it was for me, as strange as that may seem, for several hours way into the daylight the next day,

I wrote everything I could remember. Not all of what I wrote that day is in this email to you, because as I have heard you say before, stick to the story that you don't need the minute details that do not add to the story. So that is what I have sent you. Thank you very much, sir, I appreciate that I will describe to you the most profound aspect of that day. In my view, it wasn't that I was attacked and nearly eaten by one or more sisquatch, and that may sound off kilter. It was at the

hospital that weirder things happened. It isn't a complicated part of this story, so don't worry that I'm going to go on and on here, but to me it's the most shocking. Naturally, I was questioned by the people who were taking care of my body about what had happened. That's usual stuff. What happened to you? Did you have a hiking accident? Yes, that's what happened to me. I told them. I slid off the mountain into the river, and I got lucky to have come out under a

bridge where there were people. Okay, they said, looks like you had a bad day hiking. That was it. My injuries lined up with just that. Once. They had me on painkillers and the edge had worn off, and after some sleep, my head began to clear and I remembered what had happened. Now. It's not that I had forgotten. It had just been a crazy day with so much going on. But later that night the activity had fallen off and I was alone in my room. It was quiet,

and I had my thoughts to myself. At some point after midnight and I had been dozing in and out, the door opened to my room. I expected the pesky nurse to come in and check my IV or my blood pressure or something. They're on a schedule to wake you every hour for that nonsense. This time it wasn't someone from the hospital. Two men walked in my room. They pulled up chairs, and they made themselves at home.

Sitting by my bed, I saw one reach into his jacket pocket and he pulled out a device and switched it on. A red light blinked a few times, and he laid the device on the tray and then rolled it toward me. They were going to record what I said, never once introducing themselves. The first words were, now tell us what really happened. Well, I just looked at them

and I didn't speak, neither did they. The silence was uncomfortable at first, but then I decided I wasn't going to say a word of these jerks, so I let the silence hang. There. We're waiting, the other man said, I slept off the trail in the rain. I said, already told three people this. I'm going to repeat myself only once. Now you can tell us what really happened, said the first man, or what I said. They said in room for several more minutes, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes,

and finally gathered themselves and left. And in all that time we never spoke. I will never know who they were, or where or what organization they came from. What I know for sure is that they knew what had happened to me that day, And that fact alone should say to everyone who reads this that they, whoever they is, know what is in the woods that we hike and camp and hunt and fish in. They know, and they are not warning you or warning us. Why are they

not warning us. Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it. The day before I had looked a myth in the face and laughed at him because I had heard him. I had scalded his eyes with my bars pray. It was and is the best part of the whole story. The second part is that in my mind I was laughing at those jackasses in my room that night in the same way. They weren't getting anything from me, and I knew it was scalding their ego, just like the

bear spray had scalded that bigfoot's eyes. Now, had I told them the truth or not, they would not have used the information to warn the public. So I was not going to conform. I doubt I will get back to hiking anytime soon, maybe never, but at least I know what I'm up against if I do, And now you know, and you can do whatever you want. But if you do go into the woods on this continent and you get caught in a situation like I was,

fight like hell. You can survive it. That is the only advice I can give you.