Archive 151 Bigfoot

woods for enough material for the structure. They blazed a trail as they made their way, adding another quarter to half a mile to the track before they came upon a fairly level clearing with a tree stump near the middle of it. It was the perfect location for their gift. They split up and started collecting skinny ten to fifteen foot tall timber two erect into the structure around the tree stump. The stump would act as a table within the teepee. The door or the opening was about five

or six feet tall. Once the structure was in place and standing on its own, they filled the gaps with smaller sticks and branches and leaves to help keep the rain out. When they were done, they left a granola bar on the stump and headed back down the mountain. After they arrived at their car, they packed up and began their slow drive back out of the canyon. Just when they were about to make the bend in the road, something moving up on the ridge caught their attention, and

it was the ridge that they were just on. There running on the ridge was a reddish, brown haired sisquatch, quickly making its way down the mountain towards them. When the creature reached the edge of the hill and saw the car, it stopped and just looked at them. As they looked back at it, and as if it realized they'd seen it, it morphed into a tree, blending into the rest of the hillside. One second, it was standing there. In the next instant, it was a small pine tree.

Was it a sort of defense mechanism or camouflage technique. Was it something they used to remain unseen from prey in humans. It really didn't matter at that point, as they'd already seen it. It would be a while before Dan went camping in that canyon. Everything seemed normal until one morning he awoke to find a small blue marble lying next to his sleeping bag. The marble had a piece of reddish brown hair embedded inside. What did this mean?

Was it a gift from a sosquatch? Months later, Dan decided to venture out alone for an evening hike up another forest service road and then head off the trail to find a remote camping spot. As the crow flies, the location of this trip's camp site would be no more than four miles from the clearing him and Josiah had built that teepee. He didn't have to venture off the trail for too long before coming upon a nice

level spot perfect for his two person tent. He was surrounded by tall trees, which served to block out any noise from town, which was less than a mile below. It wasn't long before camp was made and his dinner was gone. For good measure, he backtracked through the woods to find a tree branch to hang a small bag of garbage that would hopefully keep any nosy bears distracted

and away from his tent. As he slept. Before turning in for the night, he pulled a canister of bear spray out of his pack and grabbed a book for some light reading. Nearly an hour later, he rolled over and turned out the light and went to bed. Sometime during the early morning hours, he was jolted away by a deep rumbling feeling coming from the ground and the sound of a bulldozer crashing through the trees. It sounded like it was about fifty yards away and coming towards

his campsite. The rumbling wasn't like an earthquake, but more like a stampede of horses or cattle running right at him. But how could that be? He was nestled deep in the woods and far away from the road, and he wondered were their free range cattle in the area and where they possibly spooked or attacked, causing them to run

away from a predator and unknowingly towards him. As the approaching violence got closer and closer, his sleepy brain was simply overcome by the trembling ground and loud crashing sound of the large trees right outside his tent. As he clenched his bear spray, he closed his eyes and he braced for an impact, and then everything stopped. Everything suddenly went quiet and peaceful. He opened his eyes and focused his hearing as he could sense something at the edge

of the campsite. To the left of his tent. There was no way he was going to look outside, so he continued to listen for any clue to what was out there. It took less than a minute for whatever was outside to turn around and slowly walk away in the direction in which it had come. Dan lay in his sleeping bag, holding his breath. He could feel the heavy thuds from its feet as whatever it was walked away on two legs. Needless to stay, Dan didn't go

back to bed. He couldn't sleep. He laid helpless in his mind, replaying every second of the event over and over again, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Come morning, he cautiously unzipped his tent and slowly and quietly climbed out. With every inch, he paused all body movement and held his breath to scan the left into the right before climbing out. He was pretty shook up up.

Whatever it was it was gone. There was no visible destruction within the campsite, and even more alarming, the trail back to the road was clear of any sign of violence he'd both heard and felt. Even the garbage bag was still tied above from the branch. Dan gave a lot of thought to what happened before telling me about that wild night. Whatever it was. Once it found me asleep with the campfire put out properly, it turned around

and it let me be. He said, I hadn't been making a lot of noise and my fire had been small, so I'm not sure how it knew where I was. Dan wasn't the only one to have follow up experiences During a solo hike. Josiah found himself about a mile or more outside of town, on the opposite side of town from where him and Dan had built that teepee. It was early evening when he set out. As he hiked parallel to a river, he eventually came upon a

batch of similar tpee tree structures. They had been created by boy Scouts and varied in sizes and distance from the trail. Hikers and campers used them as shelters. After he passed the first structure, he suddenly felt like something was circling him. It was such a strong feeling it made him pause to look around to see if he could see anyone or anything nearby. That's when he felt the need to look down. There in front of his feet was an arrowhead, but it wasn't a normal arrowhead.

Josiah is part Native American and has seen a lot of arrowheads and knows how to make them. This one was different. Whereas they're usually created using a chipping or flaking method known as flint napping, this one seemed more like it was rubbed into shape. By this time, it was getting dark, so he hiked up to one of the tea and climbed inside to rest and examine the arrowhead. While inside, he heard small stones being tossed at the teepee. He leaned over and stuck his head outside, but he

didn't see anyone. The sound of stones hitting the structure continued, so he decided to take the hint and move along. Obviously someone didn't want him there. That's when things got a bit more strange. As he retreated back down the slope towards the trail, the stones continued to land all around him at the trail, and after stopping to look for the culprit once more, a large piece of tree bark suddenly manifested from thin air right in front of him.

He said it wasn't there, and then it was. He watched as it hovered in front of his face briefly and then fell to the ground. It was as if someone dangled it in front of him for a moment and then simply let it fall to the ground. This freak come out, so rather than continue up the trail, he decided to quickly backtrack towards town Aways down the trail, he realized he dropped the cap to his camera. Reluctantly, he turned back up the trail and used his flashlight

to scan the ground ahead of him. Just as he spotted it and bent over to pick it up, someone threw something very large and heavy in his direction. When it made an impact with the ground, he literally jumped and yelled, I'm just coming back for this. Josiah then hastily made his way back into town into his cabin. That was the last time he's hiked that area alone. I've been mountain biking my entire life. I love the outdoors. I had a customed mountain bike made by Seven Cycles

in Massachusetts. It had a titanium frame, a belt drive, and a fourteen speed roll off gearing. It was very light and it was incredibly strong. I could ride this bike anywhere. I decided to do an overnight hammock camping trip. I thought I would use the mountain bike right out of my house, and five miles down the road is a two hundred acre wildlife refuge laid in the fall. The woods in Connecticut are very beautiful, so this would

be a gorgeous trip. People drive from all over the country to see the golden display of the fall leaves. I loaded my bike with twenty pounds of gear, food, water, and my camera and a carbon tripod. I had thought that I would try some low light photography and see how it came out. It was getting dark in another ninety minutes, so I brought my helmet and handlebar led lights. The handlebar light is seventeen hundred lumens, and I can ride at night just as fast as I can during

the day. The helmet is nice because it always points where you're looking. I rode into the woods, and I took about an hour and fifteen minutes to get far enough in so that I wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing me. After, I dragged my bike and my gear up a big hill to get more than a three hundred feet off the trail to find a good spot. By that time it was dark. There were two trees twenty feet apart with no widow maker dead limbs on them, and I strung my hammock between them. I put a

tarp above the hammock. It was a nice night, so I tied the sides of the tarp up so I could see three hundred and sixty degrees. I heeded some water to make coffee. After twenty years in the Navy, I just can't live without my coffee. And then I had a snack and it was pitch dark. There was no moon and no stars to be seen that night. If I turned off my head lamp, I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. It's not a

good night for photography regardless. I set up the camera and took some long exposure shots and got just what I expected. A picture of black by camping is zero impact. There is no fire, and I leave the site exactly as if I had never been there. On past trips, I learned that the animals know you were there. It seems to disturb them that a human is hanging out in their home in the middle of the night, usually just after dark. The woods come to life and everything

is moving. Some animals are curious and will come close to see what is hanging between the trees. It tends to keep you up, but I found it very interesting because it is amazing how well animals communicate with each other. The ones that came close would always give out some kind of sound that was responded to by more than one distant animal. Small rodents would scurry through the leaves right underneath you. The dry leaves made it so that

you could hear anything moving well. I climbed into my hammock and I covered up, and I was comfortable and warm. My head was on an inflatable pillow so I could see out. I hung my seventeen hundred loomin handlebar light just above my head on a ridge line in case something big came in close. This night was different. There wasn't a sound. I was in the middle of a wildlife refuge and I couldn't hear a thing. My ears are very good. I was a sonar technician and my

ears were tested quarterly by the Navy. My hearing tests indicate that when I retired, my ears were just as sensitive as they were when I was seventeen years old. The unusual quiet was disturbing. Well, I got bored and I closed my eyes and I dozed off. I was awakened a few hours later by movement. There was something close, rustling in the leaves. I heard a distant chattering to the south, which was answered by the same to the north, and then the third chatter that was close to the west.

After many minutes of quiet, a fear suddenly came over me. It was a fear that I never in my life have experienced. I've served on submarines. I survived an onboard fire and a couple of loss of depth controls close to test depth, and I can tell you that the fear that I felt that night brought back those memories because it was so strong. The difference was that this time was the fear in my head and it was not in my gut. It gave me goose bumps all

over my body. I retrieved my hanging light from the ridge line and made sure my thumb was on the switch whatever was out there. If it got too close, it was going to get blinded by that light. I was unarmed, so the light and my leathermen were all I had. The next thing I knew I heard steps approaching. There were two steps at a time, approaching from the east and then there was a long pause the paws

between the steps, and adrenaline through my veins. This time they were walking right toward me, and I knew it was there. This went along for what seemed like forever, and then I heard two steps followed by what sounded like a massive log hitting the ground hard enough to reverberate the earth underneath, making it sound hollow. I managed to stay in my hammock after I was startled by that thump, and then I was wondering if I had the courage to let this thing get any closer. I'm

guessing the first thump was fifty yards away. Each additional step were followed by the same loud thump. This thing was trying to get a start out of me. The camera was on the bag on my bike, and I was too clumsy to use my phone at the same time as the light. I would be dropping my light and I decided against getting the shot. When I got to the point that I felt it was six steps from me looking into my hammock, I turned that light on. It was so bright that I could see the dust

floating in the air. I saw two eyes. They were red and they were really high off the ground. The eyes drop low and then swung back and forth. All I could see was the eyes, no antlers, no tann fir, just eyes. The eye swung back and forth, seeming to try to get out of the intense light. It seemed like forever, but after a few seconds, I decided to give the animal one out and I shut the light off.

Whatever this was, it took off like a rocket. I could hear every massive, powerful footstep and branches snapping as it blindly trudged to the north. In seconds, this thing was at least a half a mile away before I could no longer hear it. Well, it got quiet and I calmed down, and I thought wow, and then I dozed back off. I woke up just after sunrise. I never sleep long. I was surprised it was being light already. I checked the area out where the creature had approached.

There was a huge bush in that direction with no leaves left on it. Whatever this thing was, there was no place for it to hide. Therefore, I am perplexed. While I only saw the eyes. Looking at my camp area for the first time in daylight, I realized that I had hung my hammock right in the middle of a very heavily traveled animal path. Honestly, I can't say what those eyeballs belonged to. I still go hammock camping,

and I've never had any experience like this again. When I was nine, my sister and I, along with two of our aunts who were our age, decided to explore or a concrete ditch that ran alongside my great grandmother's house near Memphis. We used a rope to propel down and then walked along until we came to a covert. We looked inside, but couldn't see daylight from the other end,

just a black, empty space. I wanted to explore this cave like structure and maybe get a good scare on the girls at the same time, as kids will do, I dared them to go in to see who would go the farthest or stay the longest. They dared me back, and with pride on the line and no one wanting to be the one who chickened out, we all stepped inside. The eerie feeling we all had was overpowering. I was certain the girls wouldn't last long in this environment, and

I would surely win. After fifty yards, one of my aunts said Jim, what's that. I looked deeper into the darkness and I saw a set of glowing red eyes walking in our direction. A reasoned that it must be a cat or a dog, and that the eyes were catching the light from the opening behind us. But I also knew that if I made it out to be bigger than it was, the girls would run and i'd win. I was done exploring this place anyway. I just needed to turn the fear up a little bit and I

would be the victor. It was working. The closer the eyes got, the more frightening they became. And then I noticed that whatever was connected to those eyes was getting bigger and bigger. I think it was on all fours at first, and then it began to stand up. Okay, I thought dogs and cats don't walk on two legs. That was when my sister and ants gave up the ghost. They spun around and they ran screaming from the cave, yelling back to me to run. I just stood there.

I guess I was waiting for them to get further away. I knew I could outrun them, and I didn't want one of them to get I just kept standing there, hoping to stall it. Or something. I waited longer than I should have, and it came at me, quickly, overtaking me. As I ran backwards towards the entrance, I could hear the girl screaming somewhere behind me, and I screamed back

for them to get help. This thing, so tall it had to stand hunched over to keep from hitting its head on the ceiling of the colvert, towered over me, shrouding me in the heavy mist of its breath and stench of its fur, and it glared down at me. I'm dead, I thought. I stood still, and my eyes were closed, my arms and legs were shaking, and I was waiting to become this thing's next meal. And then it made a rattling noise, almost like a coup or

a purr. The fear started to subside. I found it in me to start backing away slowly that furs, and then a little faster. When I backed far enough, I turned and bolted as fast as I could, and I hit daylight like a runner breaking through a ribbon. At the end of the race, the girls were up ahead, scurrying up a rope that we'd use to climb down. I grabbed it and pulled myself to safety. I was frantic to get away from this thing. I wasn't sure

if I was going to make it. We ran to our parents hysterically telling them about the culvert, the red eyes, and the four legged animal that stood up on two feet. You stay out of that ditch, was all they said. They didn't believe us. Years later, I must have been thirteen or fourteen, it was carnival time in Memphis. The Mid South Fair was a big deal and I went

every year. A couple of weeks before it started, I checked out a book at the library that was all about the lock Ness Monster and other cryptid After my experience, I was fascinated with this subject. In the back of the book was a story and a picture of the Patterson Gimlin Bigfoot. My jaw dropped at the sight, even though I'd been too afraid to look up that day in the culvert, it seemed like this is what I

had seen. It made me wonder how many people have ever seen these things, and without any form of reference, they just never knew what they were looking at. That year, at the fair, the freak show was boasting one particular exhibit claiming to be a dead Bigfoot on ice. Most people don't remember or maybe even know that until recently, as the nineteen eighties, freak shows were a common element

of carnivals, fairs, and circuses around the world. These attractions were always fakes, a mix of plaster, makeup, costume, and lighting designed to extract money from the fairgoers, post and nothing else. I had no doubt that the Bigfoot behind this curtain was as fake as the mermaid behind the next. Curiosity got the best of me, though, and I paid for my ticket and I went in to have a look. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was bad.

I looked around and I saw others holding their noses. I recognized it. Looking at this thing, I began to reason with myself. It had to be fake. If a man had shot it, he'd be in jail. This thing is just a big, hairy humanoid. I focused on the bullet wound visible in its chest. It all looked too real. Well, my time was up and I had to move on, but what I had seen was disturbing. I couldn't forget it. The next year, the fair was back, and I was

still obsessed. This year, I brought a magnifying glass with the hope that the Bigfoot exhibit would be there. I was not disappointed. First, I examined the bullet wound. I could clearly see through the ice and the jagged tear where it had entered the creature's chest. It all looked very real. Its skin appeared to have poorers, the hair seemed to sprout from individual follicles. There was dirt under the fingernails and toenails. It was even quite obviously a male.

I would pay to see this thing three more times that year. The next year it was back, and so was I. This time, I'd used a set of medical encyclopedias to familiarize myself with the effects of gunshot wounds, dermal layers, hair growth, and anything else I could learn about anatomy that might prove this to be a fake. On the other hand, I also studied makeup artistry in prosthetic. Again, I paid to see the thing multiple times, and again I could not find a flaw. Even the fingernails and

the toenails had lateral ridges with cuticles. I'm convinced it was real.