Archive 154 Bigfoot

age and had the same interests as me. My cousin owned a really nice bass boat that he kept there at his mom and dad's, and that was what interested me the most. I rolled in around eight o'clock that evening. Everyone was glad to see me in. I was glad to get a good meal. Afterward, we sat around the living room and talked about all the fishing spots on

the lake where we'd be heading the next day. About ten o'clock, my cousin's wife started pestering him to take her out to the old saw mill to see who was out there. I could tell my cousin was getting frustrated with her. He wanted to get an early start on fishing the next day. He need a good night sleep for that, but she was insistent, and eventually he gave in. Well, I grabbed my personal firearm and stuck it down the small on my back and headed out

with them. The old saw mill was where the young adults in our area liked to go and hang out. Most nights, someone or other could be found out there with their cooler, sitting around a campfire and telling stories and cutting up, or just listening to the radio. Sometimes someone would show up with a guitar and entertain us. Mostly it was just a place we could go that was far enough out of the way to keep us out of trouble and out of the sheriff's There's no

straight route to the old saw Mill. We bounced down the highway that ran alongside the lake to the next road, and then to another that led to the blacktop that led to another, until eventually we turned onto the dirt road that dead ended at a grassy parking area where everyone parked. From there, we had a short hike up the trail to the mill. The first thing we noticed was the absence of vehicles. There were two ways to get to the sawmill, so it wasn't absolute that no

one was there. This just happened to be the main way. The second route involved an eight mile walk from the main road followed by a four mile hike through the woods. If anyone was up there, they would probably have parked their vehicles here. He got out of the truck, and I noticed the moon was only half full. Of course, none of us geniuses remembered to bring a flashlight. But did we let that stop us? Of course not. We headed down the hundred yard trail and came to the

first building of the old mill. The sawmill itself was built in eighteen ninety nine and was made of solid concrete. In total, there were four concrete buildings. As we'd walked the trail, I couldn't help but notice that all the normal night sounds were missing. But I didn't let that bother me. I told you nobody would be here. My cousin said to his wife, come on, let's go. We all hesitated. Maybe we thought if we stood there long enough,

someone would show up. I really don't know. After about a minute, we heard a rock hitt the front of the building closest to us, and it landed close to us. Stop throwing rocks, I told my cousin, I was a little frustrated by our useless trip, and it showed in my voice it wasn't me, he spat. By then I looked at his wife, and she gave me a shrug as if to say, wasn't me either. Just then a second rock hit the building and landed even closer to us.

Stop fooling around, I demanded, can't you see you're upsetting your wife. It isn't me. My cousin insisted, and he pulled his wife into his arms, and she wrapped hers tightly around him. I was watching them embrace when a third rock hit the building, making us all jump. Okay, so it clearly wasn't them. Somebody or something in the woods directly behind us was throwing rocks. My cousin and his wife were getting more and more nervous, but I was trying to remain calm. I unholstered my gun and

prepared for action. Thanks for the training, Uncle Sam, I thought. Even so, I was totally unprepared for what happened next. Fifty yards away, there was a loud tapping sound, like something hitting a hollow log. It wasn't random. It was like some form of communication almost like Morse code, except it wasn't any Morse code I knew, and I'm pretty well trained in it. It went on for fifteen seconds and then it stopped. The whole time I was scanning

the woods trying to locate the source. Then something answered it from the opposite direction. This time it sounded like two rocks being hit together. The feeling of being surrounded kicked in, and my cousin muttered something like we got to get out of here now, and as he and his wife took off in a dead run back to the truck, I was the only one armed, so I took up the rear at a slightly slower pace, checking

our six as we moved. I didn't want whatever was out there communicating to follow us and attack us from behind. And I made one complete turnaround as we were heading down the trail, and there where we had just been standing were three extremely large shadowy figures staring down the trail at us. The sound of the truck door slamming motivated me to turn and run at full speed. My cousin had it started and was already grinding gears in his hurry to get out of there. I think he

would have left me there to face those things. If I hadn't made a death defying leap into the bed of his truck. I smacked my face hard on the spare tire, but I made it. My cousin must have been doing it eighty miles an hour driving out of there. It wasn't until we hit the pavement that he finally stopped and yelled for me to get inside. We didn't say much at first when I got in there, but I finally had to ask, what was that? I don't

want to talk about? It was his only response. Back at my aunt and uncle's house, my cousin and his wife went straight to bed, and I put my gun away and I sat down in the living room with my aunt and uncle, who were still up watching TV. My aunt recognized right away that something was wrong, so she asked me what had happened, and I didn't hold back. I told them the whole story. Ah, it's just some local kids up there messing with you, my uncle said.

But I told them there weren't any other cars, and the other way in was a damn long hike in the dark. No one in their right mind was going to walk that far just to throw rocks at people. It wasn't until twenty twelve that I finally pieced the whole story together, and I took my brother and his three kids up to the sawmill so they could see the place for themselves. We walked around into the second building and saw something that shocked me to my core.

There on the floor was something that looked like a huge net with a really bad gamey smell to it. That's when it hit me back in nineteen ninety two, those things had probably moved in and set up house. They were probably just trying to get us out of there so that they could go to bed. And that's the end of his email. That's a great story. I mean, you know, I mean, and all these years later that nest still being there or do they still live there?

One thing his uncle said, no, I can't remember who said it, but nobody's going to walk through the dark to prank you. The idea of people pranking other people on these bigfoot stories, it's not happening. I said that earlier in this podcast, but it's true. Okay, Thanks Steve for sending this story. It was fantastic, great encounter. Appreciate you sending the story. Man okay, I'd like to welcome Matt from Short Stories by Matt. He has agreed to do a guest nar a spot in this video. I

think he did a wonderful job. The name of his channel is short Stories by Matt. I love his channel. He tell some great stories. All right, let's go on with it. Matt. Here's the story that you did for us.

As I grew up on the doorstep of the Great Lakes, surrounded by hundreds of acres of wetland. I was number eight of chin children, and I was raised on the water and in the woods, hunting, fishing, hiking, camping, you name it. Every day was a new adventure. I was so fortunate at such a young age to live in and learn about the great outdoors and be taught the ultimate lesson, you don't have to be rich to be wealthy.

Truth be told, This is the first time I've ever mentioned this date, let alone, or wrote about the events. I will tell you since they occurred. I'm sixty one years old and have been through so many truly painful things of my life, from being involved in deadly automobile accidents, to being stabbed, to having my fingernails tore off and my nail beds re formed. And yet none of that ever made me shake or consume me with the pain

of fear. Well, as I recount this, I'm shaking. Forty four years ago, my life was changed in the mere one day it took for these events to play out. Everything I learned to love about the outdoors, the hiking, the camping, the joy of being out in God's country, all ripped away, gone forever. Let me tell you now about what happened to me and what saved my life. It's early in the morning of March eighth, nineteen seventy six.

I woke up at about four am, excited to get the day started not because it's my birthday, but because it's a day for exploring in the National Forest. I set off feeling great to get my necessary chores done. I ended up heading for the forest at about six forty five am. I was in the forest after about forty five minutes. I can't put into words how exciting it was and how beautiful the surroundings were. It was

quite overwhelming. The only way I could describe the feeling I had would be the same feeling of being lost without water for days and suddenly finding water and drinking up, happy, thankful, nearly euphoric. I didn't need any trails or walkways because I had my trusty Compass backpack of supplies and water and my three fifty seven Colt Python I just got as an early gift. Now. To be completely honest, I've always been a go go go kind of person, even

from a young age. I was diagnosed with MANNIK as a kid and had to learn techniques to slow down. It made me a bit accident prone, so in my head I kept saying Bill, slow down. Being in the woods made me feel truly at beasts. It didn't matter if it was hot, cold, rains, snow, or sunshine. Being in the woods was my domain, and I absolutely loved it. Little did I know at this point that it would

all change today, my birthday of all days. In my excitement of being there, I was covering ground like a madman. In just a short time, I had covered nearly four miles. I heard what sounded like equipment coming off the distance and cross what seemed to be a logging road. After a couple more hours, the elevation had changed quite a bit from being mostly uphill. I was fine with that because my trip back would be easier. At this point, it's about ten thirty a m and I had covered

a lot of ground. There were no trails that I could see, so one might call my route in the backwoods way. But I did find it a little strange that I didn't see much wildlife. About half an hour later I made it to the ridge. The view was incredible. As I made my way to it, I spotted what was making the equipment noise earlier. There was a logging operation and several acres of timber were gone. I remember thinking, how the heck are you allowed to do this in

a national forest. I found out later that there was a fire that destroyed a lot of the area, and for every tree the operation took, they planted three in its place to preserve the forest. I decided to linger on the ridge another half hour and then start the t back down. As I took a few steps back, I was stopped in my tracks by something that truly shocked me. To my right, there was a ten point buck lying dead in the crotch of a tree about twelve feet up. Its head was twisted around and appeared

to barely stay attached. As I was trying to make sense of what I was seeing, I heard someone in the distance yell. The man was about a quarter mile away, so I started making my way towards him. As I was heading for the man that was yelling, I heard another strange yell from the direction behind me. It was a growl hoff scream mix. At this point I could communicate with that man. The first thing out of his mouth was what in blazes was that? I replied, my friend,

I have no clue. He asked if I spent much time up here, and I told him no, this was, in fact, my first time hiking up here. He retorted with, here's that a fact? I said, yes, that's a fact. I believe he was going to tear into me until he saw my coat and the holster on my waist. He asked if I was lost, since this was my first time here, because I was hiking well over ten miles from anyone. I was taken aback because I figured I had only gone about six or seven turns out

I was actually thirteen miles deep in the forest. I told him I arrived yesterday to Arkansas from Ohio. I explained how I left my aunt's property earlier this morning for an exploration hike because I'm an avid outdoorsman. He apologized for acting the way he was when I got to him. He explained that the operation had equipment that was sabotaged, several thousand dollars in damages, and on top of it all, his boss shot a ten point buck yesterday, left it for a chainsaw, and when he got back

it was gone. He had already feel addressed, and there were seven men there, and yet it still mysteriously disappeared. I say, I'm sorry about your equipment, but I think I can help with the deer. At that time, a truck pulled into the clearing the loading area. I guess He walked over and talked to the boss, and they both looked at me and started walking my way. Hi there, my name is Carl. I understand you may know something

about my deer that walked away. I said, I do, but you'll have to follow me up to the ridge line to see it for yourself. Well, he said, let's go. We were chit chatting around the area in the equipment damage and what not for about twenty minutes. As we slowly made our way up, we got to the spot where the deer was and I was completely shocked it was gone. I think they both must have thought I was full of beans. Just as we were heading back down, the first fello I talked to said in a strange tone,

Oh my god, they're about twenty feet from us. Was the buck about ten feet up in another tree. All three of us were stunned. The fellow that shot the deer could verify it was the actual deer he shot, and the other tree I originally found it and had blood in the crotch. No more than three minutes later, we heard a strange noise about fifty feet away that I will never forget. At the same time as the noise, one of the men said he was glad I had a pistol and exclaimed that we need to get the

heck out of here. Upon getting back to the area where we had started from, the other workers gathered for what appeared to be their lunch break. We all started talking about the crazy things that took place. One of the workers asked if I saw what made that horrific scream we heard, and I told him I didn't. What he said really caught my attention. He said, you wouldn't catch me hiking in this area unless I was in a tank. It was the way he said it that

made me realize he wasn't joking. I learned the contract these folks had was with the state and was a bit strange. The man running it said that four workers had already walked off the job, and three other contractors in the area wouldn't even place a bid. They had traveled one hundred and forty five miles to take this contract. With that being said, I was on my way now. I had an uneasy failing, so I decided to take the logging road.

was parked there ready to load them as well. I knew there would be a great view from the top of the stack if I set my backpack down, grabbed my binoculars, and started climbing. As I was climbing, I was thinking about the day's events and how I will have an epic story to tell. Boy, oh boy, would that be an understatement. Upon getting to the top, I noticed immediately that I could see nothing at the rear for support. Whoever stacked these must be good, because there

was a pretty darn steep drop. As I walked to the rear of the pile, being ever so careful where I stepped, I was shocked to find that there were three trees growing there that were meant to serve as a backstop for the timber. All three trees were pulled down. I instantly knew three things. This was done on purpose, it was not done by any logger, and I was

in extreme danger. I turned to go back carefully to get off the timbers and heard some tree branches snap, as if someone were walking down below to my right, just out of sight. I was also hit at the same time with an awful smell. I yelled out, hullo, some one tore down your supports. Then I yelled, hey, it's me Bill. No response. It hit me as I started assessing the situation. Why would they approach from the forest up a steep grade and not the logging road.

I was struck with a scared, uneasy feeling, so I slowly unholstered my pistol. I could hear a pin drop, it was so quiet. Then a loud, deep huffing sound that absolutely did not come from any man ripped through the silence. I knew I needed to safely get off that stack and make my way quickly to a safer location. I take about three steps forward when my leg goes

through an opening. That's when the true horror began. Suddenly I was thrust into a life or death situation, being caught on a fast paced landslide of tons of timber. I remember thinking I was tumbling down with the trees, that if I just stayed on top, I'd survive. I knew my wrist or arm was broken immediately and my movement would be severely limited already. When I finally stopped rolling, I thought how lucky I was, how God protected me

because my head wasn't crushed. I had to try to reach my left arm because I had been torn open and I was losing a lot of blood, but laying there, I was unable to move. I clearly remember thinking to myself, Bill, you are no stranger to injuries, but I've never been pinned by trees before. This was life or death because my injuries and blood loss. I was laying on my back, facing up with three trees across my chest. The weight

and pressure was absolutely incredible. I didn't realize it at the time, but from the point the tree started sliding to the points I stopped was about thirty feet and the steep incline made matters worse. Two of the trees across me were about the size of a basketball, but the other was about the size of a fifty five gallon drum. They showed no mercy by kindly sliding off me. Due to how I was pinned down, it wasn't apparent

to me how beat up I really was. This took place about five miles from the logger site and about seven miles from my aunt's property. I couldn't help but think, why me? What could be worse than this? What happened over the next eight hours would make this day once in a lifetime. As I was laying there trying to assess my situation, I realized immediately that I needed to calm down and try to figure out how bad I

was injured, especially with how much I was bleeding. After several minutes, I could tell the bleeding got under control, but that my collar bone and wrists were broken. My lower body was injured, but I couldn't tell how bad, and I assumed I had broken ribs, but it was hard to assess that being smashed in place by giant trees. I knew I was in serious trouble. It needed to get help fast. I had no supplies, water, first aid,

or gun. I was helpless. I knew it would only be a couple of hours before the workers would be headed down the road, so I was desperate to figure out a way to get their attention. I remember hearing someone or something just before I fell, so I listened carefully for a while, but there was total silence. An hour or so had passed and the pain setting in was nearly unbearable, and to make matters even worse, I

could taste blood in my mouth. Now I began getting nervous because I wasn't sure if I had a punctured lung or not. I couldn't move and I couldn't take a deep breath, so it was getting scary. Some more time passed and I was startled by a tree branch cracking, and at the same time I could hear a truck making its way down the road. As the truck got closer, I could hear brand just snapping all the way up. Into the truck got right to where I was, I thought to myself, Thank God, I might just make it

out of here. I could barely hear one of the workers mention that the backpack laying up there was mine. I attempted to yell, but the pain was too much and I couldn't whistle because of how much blood was running out of my mouth. Another worker yelled back to someone that they had to mess here with all the fallen timbers. Suddenly the worker yelled, oh my god, look look, and after frantic scrambling, he yelled, go, go, go, as

the truck tore its way down the road. At this point, I was very nervous, scared, and confused, trying to wrap my head around what on earth he was yelling about. Suddenly, another truck passed by, flying up the hill. Whoever was driving was getting down on it as the engine was screaming up the hill. I just tried to convince myself to think positive. I hear more brain is breaking, about four or five loud thuds. Then the same horrible smell from earlier filled my nose. I nearly gagged and threw

up on myself from how strong it was. I could move my head only a couple of inches, so I did so to the left, facing the area I had fallen from. When I did, I lost control of my bodily functions and soiled myself. Not more than fifteen feet from me was a massive, hairy creature, and I mean huge. He had to be nearly five feet wide with a huge head. I had heard of these creatures before, and being my first instinct was to run, I felt so

helpless and completely terrified. I knew I was in serious trouble because of how much I was bleeding and how injured I was. I remember asking God what on earth I did to deserve going out like this? Right then, when I thought I couldn't get any worse, the beast stood up. He had to be close to nine feet tall and several several hundred pounds. He made noises that I've never heard before. Keeping his balance on that slope must have been difficult, but one thing was clear. He

was headed my direction. Between looking at the creature the horrible smell, and realizing my injuries, I took as deep a breath as I could and closed my eyes. I prayed to God that I didn't know what I did to deserve this, but what was happening seemed to be a bit excessive. I guess that might sound a little humorous, but I was dead serious. I felt it wouldn't be

long before I was dead. The monster made a strange sound, and as I opened my eyes, he was lifting up one of the smaller trees that was pinning me down and threw it clear down the hill, and again with a second small tree, he lifted it up and launched it clear down the hill as well. The incredible strength was astonishing. I now felt like the definition of a cat two. I suddenly could breathe much better and move my legs some, but now seemed to be on the

dinner menu. The beast could literally touch me now, and I have never felt that kind of fear. The creature then jumped down the slope with incredible speed, and the distance he covered was shocking. He was doing something I just couldn't tell what. I closed my eyes again and laid there. Several seconds later, I felt gentle pressure on my left shoulder. I opened my eyes to the creature leaning over me with its massive hands, applying a bundle

of leaves to my injury. As scary as it was, with a terrible smell, the matted hair, the leather face, and chiseled teeth, it was his eyes. I was looking into his eyes. I said, thank you, thank you. I could tell he wasn't going to hurt me somehow, and some strange oh hey, my fear was subsiding I felt more at ease. Then, to my surprise, he stood back up and reached down and wrapped his long, muscular arms

around the last large tree, pinning me down. In an unbelievable display of pure strength, this thing lifted the tree and hoisted onto its shoulder. The tree was long, so most of it was dragging on the ground. It seemed like he was standing there trying to decide what to do with it. It had to weigh over one thousand pounds. If he dropped it, it would have crushed me. Instantly, the beast let out a loud moan and started stepping down the hill, dragging the tree with it. I couldn't

believe my eyes. I then realized, after I could lean up slightly, that it was a bigfoot. It's really a bigfoot. I remember my father taking us kids to see the Legend of Boggy Creek when I was maybe ten years old. Here I am in the middle of a forest, virtually face to face with bigfoot. I heard the beast coming back my direction again, climbing over the trees right below me. Before I knew it, he was standing on the tree

below me, looking right at me. It reached down with its giant left hand took me by the vest and lifted me up like a rag doll. It stepped into the opening I had been laying in for so many hours, and stretched all the way up and laid me down on the very trees near the top of the pile that almost killed me earlier. Then it disappeared below me out of sight. Having the weight of the trees off me and having some mobility, I rolled to my left

side so that I could breathe easier. Laying there just waiting for the monster to reappear, I hear the sound of vehicles from a distance. It turns out the truck that stopped earlier ripped out of there because they saw bigfoot. They went to get help, and the boss's high powered rifle. Two trucks arrived with all seven men. They looked around for me and spotted me. They all assisted as much

as possible to get me out of there. I was eventually taken by life flight to Little Rock, where I spent seven days in the ICU and another twenty two days in a regular room before they released me. After I was in the hospital for a few days, the workers came to visit me. They found my colt which they returned, and the blood all over where I was

pinned between the trees. They asked me how I ended up with the injuries I had, and how I got unpinned, and how I got to the top of the landing, basically, who on earth helped me? I told them I remember falling from the trees when they let loose, and then getting pinned, but that I thought it was them that saved me. Four of the workers stood there just staring

at me. When walking out of the room, the last man paused, looked back at me and said, right, I've never spoken about the situation that day, my haunting birthday in the woods. This is the first time telling about it. Since that day, I've learned how precious life is to live it, live every day to the fullest. It may be that there are always something that can't be explained, or maybe shouldn't be explained, like the day Bigfoot saved

my life. To this day, there are nights that wake up in a cold sweat seeing its face over me, and I thank god I live to tell about it.