Archive 159 Bigfoot

me at the time what I was seeing. I was mowing the grass in the very late fall of twenty eighteen when I passed a large, matted down spot in the tall grass. It was probably about fifteen feet in diameter. I didn't see any tracks or trails leading into or out of it, so I brushed it off as deer habitat. Every single night, within five minutes of the lights getting turned off, my German shepherds would go to the door

and peer out and growl and start barking. That went on for what seemed like it was going to be an eternity, and I didn't think I was ever going to get any sleep. I never heard any sounds, and I don't have a sense of smell. It's a hereditary thing. My grandfather couldn't smell, and my brother's daughter can't either, so I didn't smell anything. And winter was kicking in.

It was getting cold. The dogs still weren't letting up, and during the daytime I kept a pretty good eye on them because we have had a bunch of missing cats and dogs in this area recently. The same thing happened back in the eighties and a couple of guys were caught stealing people's pets and selling them on the market for animal food and all kinds of nasty stuff.

So that's what I figured was going on. I was very watchful, and I would call them in several times throughout the day and in the evening, just to keep an eye on them. Then I saw a video where a man's dog became the target of a sisquatch because the dog was constantly giving away its position, and something inside me clicked and I just knew there was more to this than just a small herd of deer sleeping

there and traversing back and forth. So I decided to load up a rifle and leave it by my bed until I managed to get rid of whatever was coming around. My wife insisted that it was a coyote, because the year before we had a rather large one come into the area in broad daylight and it wasn't at all afraid of us. The rifle I was using had a red laser sight on the end of it and a dot site up top for quick tactics and a pinch.

Then on December second, twenty eighteen, around two am, I turned out the lights and I laid down in bed to wait, And sure enough, within minutes, my dogs rushed to the door and started barking like crazy. But this time they were growling like I've never heard them growl before,

so I knew something was out there. I sat up part way in bed with the rifle in hand, and I waited and watched, and sure enough, in the midst of that cold wind and rainstorm, I saw an almost man shaped, very dark outline figure step quietly and smoothly up to the kennel fence and stand there for a moment. Our kennel is six feet tall, and this creature was a good two and a half feet taller and was about four feet wide at the shoulders. I couldn't make

out any details, just its basic shape. I think we call those blob squatches I moved to put the rifle up to my shoulder, and it obviously saw me because it backed off into the darkness again right away, but still silently and really smoothly, almost like it was floating. It rained like the days of Noah for a couple of days, and I never thought to even look for prints in the mud, but I'm pretty sure there weren't

any after the heavy rains. Anyway. Well, it's not much of an encounter, but still enough to make me sleep with a rifle within arm's reach. Not much puts fear into me, and this squatch didn't either, but it probably would have if things would have gotten ugly, and I would be reporting a dead sasquatch because I won't miss when it comes to protecting my family, and my dogs are like my kids. I love them that much, so they get the same protection from me as my son

and wife would. It was not quite daylight on an early summer morning in the mouth of the I'm never gonna pronounce this right. It's Coquahaala, Coquahala and Fraser Rivers in Hope, British Columbia. The tributary was taking on water because the Fraser was high and the salmon were running. The river had quite a few dying salmon that were spawning. I was there to take pictures of the wildlife, so I pulled out my small director's chair and sat quietly

at the mouth. You have a director's chair. I want a director's chair. How do you get one of those? Across the river was a game trail where I have seen mule deer, white tail coyodies, and even the odd bobcat in the past, and I was sure I'd have luck that day. The sun was just beginning to creep over Mount ogle Ogilvy Ogilvy when two coyotes seventy five yards away from me began yipping. It's not unusual to hear coyotes up there, but they sounded frantic, like dogs

when a stranger has come into your yard. Curious, I looked over in the direction where they were yipping. Squatting down in the long grass at the water's edge. Another fifty yards beyond them was a huge figure. At first I thought it was a bear, and then it turned its attention on me and it stood up on two left. A cold chill shot up my spine as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I was frozen and shocked staring at a massive male sisquatch.

Behind him were some older saplings that were roughly eight feet high. They came up to his chest, and he was covered in dirty blonde colored hair, and he had a dome shaped head and a very human looking face. His nose was a bit whiter than a man's, and it looked like he didn't have a neck. We stared at each other for a good twenty seconds before he let out an unbelievably loud scream that was strangely high

pitch for something that large. I'll never forget the look of disgust he gave me before he did something totally unexpected. He began talking, for lack of a better word, and some sort of gibberish that was a mix of high and low tones. And then he grunted and raised his hand and flung it at me as if to say, leave me alone. I noticed he had a salmon in his other hand. His annoyance with me and his hand gestures were so human that I relaxed a little bit.

He turned and started walking away, and from behind I could see that he was wide in the shoulders and he was lean in the waist. I guessed him to be eleven hundred pounds. I've seen big bears, and he dwarfed them. His strides were six feet each, and every step as he casually walked away from me, he turned and looked back over his shoulder. It reminded me so much of the Patterson Gimlin film. He looked just like Patty,

but without the breasts. He looked back at me one last time, and he stopped and flung his hand at me in an annoyance again, and then he stepped into the bush. Clearly he was angry that I interrupted his meal, and he scolded me for it. But I was in awe throughout the whole experience. Five. I was a fifteen year old growing up in southwestern Virginia. I've spent most of my life in the woods. I still love to be in nature. It's where I believe I have a

stronger relationship with my creator. I was sitting under some pines overlooking a deer trail on a cold morning. My uncle had a deer stand in an old tree in the same spot, and he'd killed a few deer from there because of that. In the cold front that had come through the night before. I had a feeling something was going to happen. As I sat there with my old side hammer muzzleloader loaded and ready for any deer to walk by, I heard the distinct sound of something

crunching through the leaves. I put my rifle to my shoulder in anticipation of the deer I knew was about to pop up over the hill. What came over the hill wasn't a deer. There was a man who looked to be in his forties. I noticed he was wearing clothes that weren't from this era. He had on a flat brim leather hat with metal buttons on the front for decoration. His coat was made with the fur turned to the inside, and his pants were the same, with

worn leather on the outside. His shoes were harsh soul moccasins, and he carried a leather possible's bag, the bag muzzleloader hunters carry with everything they need inside. It was across one shoulder with a powder horn on his opposite shoulder. His rifle was longer than the hawking style rifle I had. His hair was coarse and brown. His bright blue eyes sized me up from a face covered in a full graying beard. It was as if he had stepped through

the mists from a distant past. He had a look of confusion on his face as he approached, but asked in a congenial voice if I had seen anything yet. Perplexed by the fact that someone was hunting the farm that I knew I had sold permission to hunt, I managed only a kurt no. He took another minute to look me up and down, and I did the same to him. Can I see your gun, he asked. I

handed it over, and he passed his to me. He sat down and we each inspected each other's weapon with all Although his gun was longer than mine, it was lighter. More impressive to me than the gun was the man's appearance. I was amazed that someone was hunting in full mountain man apparel. Nothing he wore could have been as warm as my modern day insulated clothing. It was a sight I never would have expected to see here in the

Blue Ridge Mountains. But I thought he must be a man who wished to live in a different time, and this was his coming as close to that as possible. Still, I couldn't help but wonder at his reaction to me. Maybe he really was from a different time. He handed back our guns and he smiled at me as he stood up. I might have asked him a few questions, but at that moment we both heard the sound of a deer walking. He's coming, the man said, without another word.

The man got behind me and we both watched as a buck came over the hill. The man put his hand on my shoulder and he told me to take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger. I did as I was told. Pop. It wasn't the boom of the rifle, just the pop of the percrussion cap and the powder igniting. It was enough to send the buck running. The man's hand was still on my shoulder. As I turned around to say something, the words died on my lips. Though

as I looked around for him, he wasn't there. I could still feel his hand on my shoulder, but he just wasn't there. I jumped up, and as I did so, the weight of his hand fell away. I decided it was time for me to call it a day. I was confused and frightened, but I didn't feel he meant me any harm, so there was no need to run. I just walked home. Reliving those moments in my head, wondering who he could have been or where he might have come from. When I got home, I put another

percussion cap in the gun and fired. This time the rifle operated properly. I cleaned my gun and put it away. I never got the man's name, nor did I ever figure out where or when he may have come from, and I've never seen him again. I'm thirty now, and I haven't hunted that area since. Sometimes I think about going back, just to see if he might be there. There's some old old rock walls in that area, said to be from the eighteen hundreds, though no one knows

what they were for or who built them. I like to think they were his. Once. My father was a master sergeant in the Green Beret Special Forces. My parents were friends with their captain and we would spend time with their family. Their house was located in a community in northwest Dade County called Palm Springs North. This area was the last development northwest of Dade County. To the west of there, there is nothing but woods and everglades.

While our parents played cards until late their son Doug and I would ride our bikes all over the area. Sometimes not getting home until after midnight. On July the second, nineteen sixty six, Doug and I went to the neighborhood convenience store for snack. It was much too late for two twelve year old boys to be out, but times were different then. We then rode back to a vacant lot on the lake close to Doug's house to grub

out on the junk food. On the way there, I had spotted a huge white owl in a tree with large black, oval shaped eyes. It was so strange and I had never seen anything like this. I could not take my eyes off it. Doug was way ahead of me, and he turned back to asking if I was coming. I broke eye contact with the owl and I yelled to Doug, Yeah, Yeah, I'm coming. And when I look back for the owl, it was gone. We arrived at the vacant lot on the lake. It was a beautiful night.

Stars carpeted the black sky. Not long after dropping our bikes, we saw a cylinder shaped object glowing faintly across the lake. It appeared cylinder shaped from our point of view, and at the time, neither of us had ever heard of or knew anything about UFOs. We had only seen them in old, cheesy Martian movies. The object hovered over the trees with what appeared to be an electrical charge to it, and then it landed across the lake behind some trees

and the glowing stopped. It never made a sound. We had to see what this was. It was about one am, and two twelve year old boys made the long ride around the lake to the area we thought the object landed. We lined up his parents' house across the lake, and we knew we were in the right spot. We only needed to find a way to that forest. Well. I knew this area. An old man in the neighborhood paid me to cut his grass, and I was here every week or so. Now I was thinking maybe this thing

landed close to him his house. The dirt road leading to his house came into view on my right and we took it. The wooded area was dark and I had trouble seeing the road. I actually didn't want to go further, but we peddled on and then I could see the road clearly, like the sun had come up. I was confused at the light. It didn't make sense and it should not have been there, but I was thankful to be able to finally see where I was peddling.

Something was off about this, though. My last memory of the ride down the dusty road was a tingling sensation all over my body. I became dizzy and I dropped the bike in the middle of the road, so did Doug. I remember standing straight up and looking ahead, and that's it. Doug was shaking me and telling me to wake up.

I was laying on the ground. Sand was all over me, like I had been rolling in It helped me up and I saw it was almost daylight and we were standing in the tall weeds of the vacant lot by the lake, our bikes laying beside us, both of us still groggy, dusted the sand off our clothes, and we walked our bikes back to Doug's house, neither of us could ride. Before we got there, we saw a police car in the drive. Our parents noticed us walking in the street and they came running. At first, they were

happy to see us. Our mother smothered us with hugs, but they soon got hacked off at us. The usual questions followed, and we couldn't answer any of them, making our parents think that we were covering something up. Of course we weren't, but how would we explain what had really happened. It was early Saturday morning, and when we got home, I went straight to bed and I slept until Sunday morning. I never woke once, no dreams, no trips to the bathroom, solid sleep for over twenty four hours.

That weekend, I was supposed to cut that old man's yard, so I got up and I gassed up the mower. I was about to get on my bike and drag the mower over there, but I felt hungry. I went back inside and I found a note on the kitchen table in my mother's handwriting. It said that mister Shagg had called and to forget about cutting his grass. I was disappointed because I wanted to make some money that day.

I rode over to mister Shagg's place down the same dirt road where this incident happened, to see if he had fired me or maybe found someone to cut the yard cheaper. He was standing in the yard when I rode up. His lawn was black. Something had caught it on fire and burned that beautiful long down to nothing. We walked around the back and his healthy garden looked the same. Who burns your yard up, mister Shagg. I asked, nothing burned it up? He said, I woke up yesterday.

I came out and this is what I found. There was no fire. Reach down and grab a water of that black grass and smell it. I did, and I expected to catch a strong, charred odor, but it had no odor at all. Something had just sucked the life out of everything green on that property. His yard started growing back that summer, but it was almost two months before he needed it cut again, and by the time I next cut his yard, I had forgotten about the

entire incident. Mister Shagg talked about black grass and how long it had taken to grow back, and I had no clue what he was talking about. That bugged me for years after. I actually thought that he had become senile and was dreaming things up. Eight or nine years ago, I was surfing through YouTube videos. I was always drawn to the UFO and alien videos. In one video, a man stated that many abductees report seeing a large white owl within hours before their abduction, and that clicked with me.

The memories didn't come flooding back, but I remembered the owl that night, piece by piece that night's events came back to me over the next year. Some of those pieces fell into place in dreams. I finally remembered as much as I have written in this email. But that is all I can remember. I have been stuck here ever since. There are four or five hours missing and I cannot find them. I'm on a dirt road surrounded by light. Five hours later, I wake up with my

buddy in an overgrown field of weeds and sand. It doesn't make sense. Doug and I stayed friends for years. It was not long after this incident that my family moved closer to Doug's house. Life went on, and we never spoke about it. It wasn't in either of our memories at the time. After he and I graduated and went off to school, I lost track of him, and I haven't spoken to him since. Throughout my adult life,

I have suffered from anxiety neither. Can I be closed in a room with no obvious exits That sends me off the deep end. This all started in my thirties. I was raised in a happy, two parent home. My childhood and adolescent years were normal and a lot of fun. I always had a great attitude, and I don't remember being sad a day in my life. I spoke with a therapist for a season, and he believes it is

the result of a traumatic experience or PTSD. At that time, I had no memory of that night in nineteen sixty six. I have recently tried to look Doug up, but I have no way to know where life took that kid. I'll keep looking. Maybe he has more answers than I do. When I was a kid, I lived a mile from my school. Sometimes, when I was in a hurry, I walked the highway to get home faster. I like to

explore the woods back then. One day, on one of my explorations, I wandered down a couple of different logging roads that cut through the woods, and I discovered that they took me to the school as well. They were less travel than the highway, but still easily walked, and it took a little longer to go that way, but it gave me time for myself. One late fall day, when I didn't have to be home right away to babysit my brother, I decided to go that route instead.

It was kind of beautiful fall day when I could let my mind wander and enjoy the peace and quiet of the woods. I hadn't gone far and I noticed something big and black was following me one hundred yards away. I thought it was a bear, and my heart began to race, and then I realized it had stopped walking and it slinked behind a tree. I could tell it was black as night, and it was really big. It was muscular with short hair, like a gorilla. He couldn't

hide from me, though he obviously didn't like it. I had had one encounter with a bigfoot before, it was a friendly one. I was pretty sure this one wasn't going to be friendly, though. He walked toward me a few steps and then stopped, as if he were pondering what to do. My adrenaline levels were already through the roof, so I bolted. He proceeded to follow me, and I was running with all my might, but he seemed to be running with ease, as if he was just pacing me.

Fear was pushing me onward as fast as I could go, and I threw my books aside and I ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst. I wasn't looking anymore to see if it was behind me. I just wanted to go home. Finally, when my heart felt like it was thundering in my throat, I stopped and looked around, and the creature was gone. I looked all around me several times and I didn't see him anywhere. But I didn't trust it, so I took off runting again,

and I didn't stop until I got home. I struggled to get the key in the door, but somehow I managed, and once I was inside, I slammed the door shut and I locked it. I knew from my last experience that this wouldn't keep him out. My last encounter taught me that I spent the rest of the day freaked out and scared. I never went back through those woods again. I got into a lot of trouble at school for losing my books, but I didn't care. I wasn't going back in there. For him, that was his territory and

he could keep it. M