Archive 208 Bigfoot

went up on the back of my neck. It felt like semi frozen meat, like a roast. I knew it was not latex or rubber. This started my interest in bigfoot, and after much reading, I had a good knowledge of the subject. That was all back in the mid nineteen seventies. In the year two thousand, I was a prospector and my interest at the time was searching for the lost lemon mine. I met an aging prospector from Crow's Nest Pass who had a sample of ore with silver in it.

He directed me to a valley on the border of Alberta and British Columbia, and with my father in law, we made the trip into the valley. We made camp the first night and continued the next day into a bowl high up into the crest of the rockies. I climbed further with the sample in my hand, while my father in law waited in the bowl below. Upon reaching near the crest of the mountains, there was a huge cave. The opening was twelve foot by thirty foot wide. At

least this place took my breath away. I was in awe at the size of the cave and the colors. Everything was green inside in all indifferent shades. My attention was drawn to several horizontal tunnels into the rock that in itself is not strange, but on closer inspection, each hole had been lined with dry animal hides. The hides appeared to be deer and were curled, like when you throw a hide in your yard and it dries. For years I pondered the thought of why the hides were there.

These hides would have to be replaced from time to time. Rodents or insects would eat the hides, especially through the winter months. In later years I came to the conclusion that this was indeed a Bigfoot cave. What else would have that kind of intelligence. I planned to return, but I never did. This cave is not easy to access, and I believe the Bigfoot would know of your approach long before you arrived, and your window of escape would

be nonexistent. I once heard a bigfoot researcher person say only one sighting or footprint has to be real for their existence to be real. My ten year old son and I were walking around a two hundred and fifty acre state park in Connecticut with our dog. People don't often relate Connecticut with sasquatch, and neither did I until

I had my first experience several years ago. Since then, I have spotted or seen signs or heard sasquatch around me on walking trails, sometimes on popular ponds, and even in my own backyard. I realized now that I had heard them and seen signs all throughout my childhood, but I didn't know what I was hearing or seeing. But I know now there are places in Connecticut, which overall is heavily forested, where sasquatch could go to get away

from most humans if they wanted to. However, all four seasons I have seen them here locally in south central Connecticut, thirty minutes from the shore and smack dab next to a bustling college town in my town is a well known apple and fruit orchard not far from me, where I suppose any sasquatch would grab a snack. I get the feeling that, like coadies and bears, maybe sasquatch have some codependence on humans and our garden crops or garbage.

The day of this encounter, I did not see the sasquatch, but I saw what I believe one did. My son and I were out for a walk in the manicured park of this two hundred and fifty acre area is a place with a river and a swimming hole, sandy beaches, charcoal pits, and picnic tables. These things only take up a tiny fraction of the park, which has two natural waterfalls and dozens of hiking trails. Son and I, along

with our dog. We're walking along the river and crossed over a bridge to the other side where no one really ever goes. There's an overgrown trail there that winds through the woods right alongside the river and then across from the river. At a certain point, a high steep ridge rises up above. I've always been leary of going to this park. I've seen sasquatch in this park on the opposite side, but I imagine first that they're all over the park to begin with, and especially this spot

because there's less human foot traffic. Plus this spot just has a creepy feel. With that said, I was curious to enter the woods just a few feet from the field, and we had to cross to access it to look around for sasquatch clues. Maybe five hundred feet away. Through just a little bit of woods and field, we'd be back at the car, and it seems safe to do. We crossed the field and followed the river into the woods of ways until we found a swampy small tributary

to the river that we wanted to explore. It really looked like a swamp hole. It was long and narrow, like a creek too. As usual when a predator or a sasquatch is around, the birds went silent, and I got that we need to leave intuition, so we abandoned our exploration of the creek and turned around to go back the way we came. My dog, a border aussy mix, was on a leash, as she loves to run in circles and she's always a little awkward to manage when

she's not running free. As I tried to turn her around, she dropped down on some exposed dark soil, and she began to roll. Oh great, I thought, But when she stood up, we didn't see anything she would normally find worth rolling in. And then among all the plants and grasses carpeting the forest floor, here we saw a horrific sight. Against a tree was a tight rabbit nest made of brambles, and in front of that nest a mangled mass of

flesh and bone and fur. By the fur and the nest, I could tell it was a rabbit, although it was in such a state that it would otherwise be unrecognizable. It looked like something or someone turned this rabbit inside out like a winter coat. We stood there, shocked, and despite my knowledge of sasquatch in the area, my mind raced through an inventory of possibilities. Who attacked this rabbit? Was it a coatie, a bobcat, a cougar, maybe a fox.

There was very little blood to see, but I remember seeing its perfectly intact flesh with only the pelt pulled outside, albeit mangled like. Maybe whatever killed it did so by twisting its whole body. And then it hit me. Everything was still. It hadn't been eaten. It was just in front of its den too. So now I was imagining that something pulled it straight from its nest and then killed it and mutilated it, and then just left the whole thing right there where it died. This didn't make

any sense. And then it struck me. Was this a warning from a sasquatch signaling us to do not enter to this area? I couldn't help but feel it was so. However, the woods were so quiet when we arrived in this area. We heard no animals coming or going, no scuffle, no sounds of an animal in mortal distress. I'm not sure when the rabbit was killed, but I couldn't see how any animal could have contorted the body that way, and then also that the predator had not run off with

their kill to eat it. I know sasquatch does not want us to know they are there. The ones in this park know I'm aware of them. I can't confirm it, but whole dartedly believe that poor dead rabbit was a sasquatch. No trespassing sign the strength this creature must have had to kill a rabbit with its bare hands and mangle. It is incredibly frightening, which I guess is the point. It's like the sasquat saying, see what I can do, and it wanted to keep me away, just how it escaped.

Our notice showcases a true talent and stealth. I don't believe for a minute that all sasquatches are warm and fuzzy, even when staying quietly out of your way. I believe they are unpredictable, and some are territorial and aggressive, and, knowing that nothing else matters, always assume the worst while praying for the best. In the end, our little exploration was a success because we got the signs of a

sasquatch that we were looking for. It's just that this was a sad sign we were not expecting, and that related to me the curiousness of how badly they want to remain anonymous. The question is can they be dangerous? So should they be allowed to remain anonymous? I don't believe so. However, the FEDS will never fess up, will they. My name is Andrew, and you can use my name for this encounter. This is quite a lengthy story, and I apologize in advance. This happened in August of this year,

so it's still quite vivid and fresh. A little background. My best buddy and I have been best friends for seventeen years, and we were avid campers and outdoorsmen all through high school. We knew almost everything there is to know and did almost everything there was to do in the great outdoors. Camping was second nature to us. After high school. In twenty eleven, my friend's parents divorced and he and his mother moved back to Europe, where he

was born. Last year, my buddy moved back here to Canada. It was amazing. The eight years he was away seemed like a week. It was an immediate rebond and we picked up exactly where we left off. Last summer, we really wanted to go on an epic camping trip, just like the old times. However, our schedules and life in general got in the way. So we planned our epic trip and dedicated time to camp this past summer. August had finally come and despite COVID, we were determined that

absolutely nothing was going to ruin our trip. So we threw caution to the wind and we decided to pack our gear and prepared for our lengthy drive from Ontario to British Columbia. Along our travels, we talked about many subjects, and it was at dinner I had mentioned your YouTube channel to my friend. He asked me if I believed in sosquatch and I told him my sir do, and he looked at me in a strange way for a

moment over his coffee cup. That I could believe in such a creature was crazy to him, But after talking with him further, he was more open minded about such creatures roaming the forests. We arrived at our destination and hiked deep into the forest. We were a little ways in and my friend stopped and started looking around. He told me that he felt uncomfortable, like we were being watched. I chuckled it off and said, we've just been driving

for hours, you're tired. He looked at me, shrugged and said, you're right, probably just my imagination. We got to a spot we liked and immediately started setting up our camp. Halfway through, my friend stopped and started scanning the area in front of the tent. He said he swore that he saw something large and upright moving down the path. I told him to start a fire and brew some coffee,

and he did that without hesitation. After our coffee and beef jerky dinner, we could hardly keep our eyes open, so we left the fire burning and we went to bed. I don't know how long I had been asleep, but my friend was shaking the crap out of me to wake up. He told me he had awakened to go to the bathroom and was just about to unzip the tent when he was hit with the scent of vomit, skunk, and rotten meat, followed by seeing a large shadow of something by pedal cast over the side of the tent.

I told him it was probably some other campers nearby that were messing around with us. My friend asked me to go outside to look before he peed. You go first. I unzipped the tent, popped my head out, and I started coughing. That scent he was talking about was still lingering in the air, but after scanning the area and seeing nothing, I said, everything's clear. The next day came and went without incident. By four pm, my friend was starting to get a fire going and I was preparing

that night's dinner. Half an hour later, the food was over the fire cooking and it smelled good, and we were relaxing, laughing, and enjoying some great German beer. Suddenly both of us became overwhelmed with the feeling that we were being watched. The air started filling with a musty right scent that kept coming and going all throughout dinner. We searched for something, but we couldn't find the source of that scent, and it finally went away as mysteriously

as it had come. Bedtime finally came, so we hung the garbage bags high in the tree before turning in. I had trouble falling asleep that night, so I just laid there listening to the forest sounds. I was just starting to doze off and I noticed that it got very quiet. Then I heard the sound of a twig snap not too far from the front of the tent. I got uncomfortable and I felt like we were being watched, so I quietly sat up with a heightened sense of hearing.

I heard the sound of sniffing slightly to the right of the tent where the garbage was hanging. My eyes started to water, and that putrid smell returned. My friend stirred and noticed me sitting up. Before he could say anything, I put my finger to my lips and I softly said ssh, and I pointed in the direction of the garbage. My friend sat up, curious and confused. We listened for a moment. We heard what sounded like the garbage bag

slowly being squeezed. I slowly moved to the door as quietly as possible, unzipping the screen flap and looking over in the direction that we heard the noises. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see anything, and I re zipped the flap and hearing nothing further, we went back to sleep. The next morning, while my friend was brewing coffee and I was getting dressed, my friend called my name and told me to come quick. I rushed out of the

tent and I saw my friend pointing up. The garbage bags were gone, but the ropes were still attached to the tree and dangling over the branch ten feet up. We searched the areas around the site a little bit better, but we had no success in finding our garbage bags. That night, we turned in early because we had a very busy and eventful day ahead. We were talking when all of a sudden, something small hit the tent. It

was just a little plink sound. It sounded like a rain drop, so I closed the roof flaps, thinking it was going to rain. Plink, plink plink. Then that was it for about ten minutes, and then plank something through a decent sized rock at the tent, and we looked at each other with eyes wide But we then decided to ignore it, thinking whoever was throwing the rocks would give up and go away, so we turned off the

lamp and we went to sleep. Sometime later that night, another rock was thrown at the tent, and then another. At this point, my friend finally had enough. He got up and went outside and he yelled, whoever that is, throw another rock and I'm gonna break your eyes. That was that, and no more activity happened that night or the next. On our last night of camping, we were up late sitting around the roaring campfire, just enjoying life. It really was nice, and then we heard a big splash.

Something huge and heavy was either thrown or jumped into the water just down the path from our site. My friend and I looked at one another with white eyes. Again. My friend was just about to say something when suddenly he heard a rapid splashing like something quickly walked looking through the water. The splashing stopped suddenly, and we turned and intensely stared at the path, expecting to see someone

or something approach us, but we never saw anything. A little while later, I had to go to the bathroom and my friend said he did too. He got up and grabbed the flashlight from the tent, and he said, after we go, let's go down and check the water. After emptying our bladders off, we went to the water's edge to do some investigation. We scanned the water in

surrounding areas, but nothing immediately stood out. However, as we turned to go back up the path in the mud by the water, my friend noticed a smudged impression and noted that this looks like a smudged footprint. As we were approaching camp, both of us were stuck with an uncomfortable feeling. When we got back to our area, the air was thick with that vomit skunk rotting. You guys have the best descriptions for some of these smells. I'm sorry,

I just think it's so funny. Rotten skunk rotting, stinky feet, Oh man, it's so good. My friend pointed to the tent and he said the tent is open, and I said were You were the last one in there, but I know for certain you closed it. After going through our things to make sure nothing was stolen, we decided to get some sleep, as tomorrow we were going to disassemble everything and make our way back to Ontario again. We let the fire burn as we drifted off to sleep.

Later that night, I was awakened by footsteps coming from behind the tent. It was pacing left and right. I must have drifted back to sleep, because later I was awakened by my friend, who was trying to keep from panicking. He was sitting up away from the side of the tent, with his left hand covering his mouth and with his right hand pointing to the back of the tent, the same direction I had heard the footsteps earlier. By this time, the fire had died out and it was silent. It

was eerily silent. I too, sat up and I listened snap. A good sized twig broke as something approached the tent. By this time my friend was biting his finger and doing anything not to panic, And then we heard the sniffing coming from behind the tent. I slowly moved away from the back wall, and in what little light from the moon there was, we saw a shadow of something starting to lean over the tent, just as something pushed

into it. My only guess is this was a foot, because it was at the very bottom of the tent. It was quiet for a moment before hearing the groaning sound, and then suddenly both sides of the tent were being pushed in. The canvas of the tent was forming around massive hands, I mean massive hands. Suddenly my friend just let Lusia scream like a child who had just broke his favorite toy. It was ear piercingly loud. Almost immediately

the creature stopped pushing in on the tent. After a moment, we heard what I can only describe as a freight train crashing through the forest. We didn't sleep anymore that night, and we waited until first light to pack up and then we left. The walk from our site to the car was most uncomfortable. We had the feeling of watchful eyes coming from every direction. We quickly packed the car and drove to the nearest motel to get some RESTful

shut eye. When we woke up, we did some research and realized that that part of British Columbia is a hot bed for sisquatch activity. I always knew that British Columbia had a lot of sasquatch activity, and the whole time this was happening to us, it never crossed my mind that it could be sisquatch. It's just something I never thought what happened to me. My friend and I aren't deterred because of the experience, and we plan on

going camping again next summer. But since August, my friend has become very interested in sisquatch and he's a big fan of your channel.