All right, here's an odd story from a man who I think this occurs in the United Kingdom. I don't think, he says. Maybe he does somewhere in the story, and you'll hear it if he does. But the way he writes, and the way he describes some of these places and the vernacular he uses, I think this guy is from the UK. But let's read us. This is not a bigfoot story. But this is really good, he writes. My first strange encounter happened in two thousand and seven. There
were no leaves on the trees. That is the only thing I can recall determining the time of year. We lived four miles away from the local town in the countryside, on the bank of a large reservoir. From the high spot where our house sat, we had a fantastic view of the rolling countryside. We own twenty two acres that included two large lakes that had excavated and acres of trees I planted. I was blessed to live in such a beautiful and imposing home. The house itself is a
converted L shaped barn. My wife and I lived in the two story section, and her parents lived in the smaller l that was only one story. It was like two separate properties, but we could walk straight through each other's homes. On the night in question, I was sitting with my feet up on the setti watching TV. It was dark outside, and I imagine it must have been getting close to bedtime. I prefer to go to bed
early and get up early. The next morning, my wife came walking into the lounge and told me that she was going to let the dog out, but there was someone standing in the back garden. I asked what they were doing, and she said nothing, they're just standing there. Well, the hair stood up all over my body, and I was engulfed in fear. I'm certainly not the cowardly type, but I had the sudden feeling that something really bad was about to happen. My wife prompted me to get
up and come with her to have a look. So I followed her through the house to her parents' side. She took me to her dad's bedroom because it was on the farthest side and closest to the back garden. The light was off, so I looked out the window and allowed my eyes to adjust to the garden, which obviously I knew well. The part I was looking at was only thirty feet across to where our garden meets
the neighbor's pasture land. There was a three bar wooden fence with barbed wire across the top, and we had planted some fruit trees there. After letting my eyes adjust and looking around to identify the objects I knew were there, I said I can't see anybody. My wife said, now look through this, and she had my night vision scope. By now her dad was standing next to her and looking quite concerned, and I took the scope from her
and I returned to the window to look. I instantly saw the likeness of a person standing in the neighbor's field, but right next to the fence. My wife asked if it could be one of my friends messing about to scare us, and I replied, who the hell would stand there? On the off chance that you might look outside with a night vision scope, I just died the focus on the scope and I looked again, and this time seeing
something that filled me with terror. It looked like an extremely tall man with a heavily woven cloak pulled over and around him. The cloak or shroud, whatever it was, was coarsely woven twill. The strands were as thick as jumper wool and tightly woven, and it looked heavy, so much so that I guessed I would have had a difficult time lifting it if it were on the floor. It was only thirty feet away, so with the scope zoomed in, it was the equivalent of being right next
to it. I could see the waving and the shroud as it came below the waist and flared out. The arms were to the side and the hands weren't visible. In fact, I couldn't see anything of this being outside of the intimidating figure with its head leaning forward and the cloak pulled over it. You've probably figured out by now that what I'm describing is the grim Reaper, and it was terrifying. It wasn't carrying a scythe as depicted
in so many stories. Judging by the fence it was standing next to, I determined it to be nine feet tall and as much as three and a half eat wide. I opened the window slowly and quietly looked again. I'm not sure if I did that to get a better look, or if I needed confirmation that what I was seeing wasn't a reflection in the glass. When I took the scope away, I couldn't see it, but when I looked
through the scope again, it was there. Through the scope, I could also see the grain in the wood on the fence rails, the cobwebs on the fence, and the long strands of grass in front of its cloak. There was truly some kind of being in front of me, but there was totally no explanation for what it might be in our world, our knowledge of what exists among us, be it in other dimensions or whatever else. I don't
think could ever explain this. I later asked my wife what she had been doing standing in her dad's bedroom window with my night scope. She said that the dog won it to go outside, but she had heard foxes barking at the back of the house. She thought that she would have a look around the garden before letting the dog out, to make sure there were no foxes. She had a little pug that she treasured and didn't want the foxes to attack it. I know this is a far fetched story, but it is what I and
my wife and her dad all witnessed. Her mother refused to look. She said it was a bad omen Sadly, the truth of that statement came to pass when my wife passed away in twenty and thirteen after a four year battle with ovarian cancer. She was only forty six years old. We had been married for nineteen years and five days. She left me with the most beautiful, blond, four year old son any parent would be proud of.
How could such a mythical being have been in my back garden, as real as the apple trees, the fence and the grass, and as true as the myths. I lost my wife and my son lost his mother. I know neither you nor anyone else can give me answers, but at least you can listen to my story, a nightmare really, and be sure that not all things are a myth. I have a second, unexplained story that happened
in twenty eighteen. I had moved from my lovely home in the country to a home in a quiet village only ten miles away from my original home and encounter. I had fallen asleep on the city and awoke in the early morning hours. The TV had timed out and it was turned off, and I just lay there, fully dressed and regaining enough energy to get up and go
upstairs to bed. There was a street light at the end of the drive, and with all the curtains open in the lounge, there was an ambient light coming through that allowed me to see reasonably well. I had been lying there for a good ten minutes and was awake enough now to go upstairs when I noticed something coming around the corner from the other part of the l shaped lounge. I would not call it smoke or a mist. The only way I can explain it would be to call it a cloud. It was just like in the
Predator film. There were loads of pixels, and with each pixel being an inch square in size. Although I could see straight through them, they distorted whatever they passed in front of. This cloud was two feet deep, three feet wide and a good six feet long. It was just floating under the ceiling, and it passed above me and went through the wall behind me. It must have been another half hour before I picked up enough courage to
get up from the couch and go to bed. I had never heard of this before until I listened into a Sasquatch story where someone had explained this same strange phenomenon at a time when they had seen a bigfoot. I was excited that someone else had also witnessed this. Thank you if you find time to read my story. All our best from far away in Staffordshire. Yep, see, I was right. I could tell that was from the UK.
And first, let me say my condolences to you. It's been a while since your wife passed away, but I'm so sorry that you lost your wife. And I have to say, in my humble opinion, this you're losing your wife had nothing to do with this grim reaper figure that you saw out by your garden. I'm so sure of that. There may be entities floating around and moving around, and I don't know the explanation for them, strange entities, ghosts, apparitions.
Maybe they're demonic, maybe they're not. Maybe it's something God created. It just moves around in the spirit realm. I don't know, but this was such an interesting story. Thank you Ian is the author. Thank you Ian for sending this. We really enjoyed it. And I hope your son's doing well and your family has adjusted to missing your wife and your son's mother, and that life picks up and gains good meaning for you and you can move on. I'm sure that's what your wife would want you to do.
At any rate, I'm probably stepping out of bounds talking about any of this, but I just, you know, it just breaks my heart when I hear stories like this. But at any rate, it was a great story, and thank you for sending it. I grew up in the mountains of central Washington around the four thousand foot level. Our neighbors were twenty miles away and in a different zip code and a different area code. The view from our front deck was nothing but tree covered mountains and
huge racks walls. We were as remote as you can get. My father was the caretaker of an old mine that had been shut down in the nineteen sixties. We lived there rent free, as long as the family took care of the property and the buildings on the property. My father had worked at that mine since before he met my mother, so he was extremely knowledgeable of the surrounding areas.
When I got old enough to join him on some of his excursions into the woods, he was quick to teach me that for a number of reasons, we didn't go out alone at night. We always carried a rifle. We hunted every year and fished almost every day, and shoveled a ton of snow during the winter. We normally got seven or eight feet of snow each year. Our road was closed in the winter, and that meant we had the snow mobile twenty miles to the nearest plowed
road when we needed to go anywhere. I wasn't kidding when I said we were remote. When I was six years old, I heard a howl that still rings in my head today. I didn't know what it was until recently when I heard something close to it on a TV show. Back then, Pops would say it was only a bear, not to worry about it. I had no reason not to believe my dad. He also told me it was a bear that often watched me through the
window at night, but it never bothered anyone. I was proud as ever when my parents would let me stay up until ten PM. I felt like a man, even though I was only twelve years old. Oh staying up at night. I remember that one night, while I was watching TV satellite at the time, I looked into the kitchen and saw a large black arm reach through the window and grab an apple and an orange my mom had left on the counter. I was too scared to
even move, much less say anything. The next morning. When I told my dad, he just said, yeah, bears will do that from time to time. When I was sixteen, we finally got a power source at the camp that changed our world. We were able to continue working until much later at night. Those lights allowed us to see well into the night, and on occasion we would see something tall, black and bipedal walking through the camp or between the buildings. It scared my mom so much that
we moved a few months later. Dad stayed up there and completed his mission. Obviously, I grew up knowing about sisquatch and the power they possess. For instance, a grizzly bear ran through our camp one evening. It didn't seem to care if we were there or not. It just kept looking behind it as if something was chasing it. We heard sisquatch fight each other for other territory too. We've even seen them do some miraculous physical things that
even machinery couldn't do. When I was in the military, I shared these stories and from there I was ushered into another department of the government. That department led me to another one that actually studies the sasquat species exclusively. I'm here to tell you that the DNR, Forest Service and BLM all know about these things, they just don't confirm it publicly. But these departments have hair, scat, body parts, and supposedly whole bodies from various places where they've been studied.
I've never seen any of the bodies, but I would have loved to. In twenty fourteen, after twenty two years, I retired from government service. I've since lost contact with all the individuals from the group, so I have no idea what the scuttle butt is around the coffee pot these days. I do know that certain wildlife area documents, especially the newer ones, include wording about keeping areas untouched for these bipedal beings. It started showing up in the
mid nineteen nineties. The problem is, as you have to dig pretty deep and have a lot of patience to get through these extremely boring book link documents to find it. And that's by design. And that's the end of his email. And that's pretty interesting. I mean, he had encounters with bigfoot when he was young, only to get out of the military after telling people about his experiences, and they moved him into a government agency that studies these things.
But I find it odd that if he's in the group that studies these things, I wonder why he never saw a body or even more evidence, apparently he was on the peripheral or maybe in some clerical position with one of these agencies. I don't know. I'm just guessing, but from these people's letters, you have to guess at these things if they're not very specific. So that's my guess. What's your guess. I don't know. I've heard of these
government agencies knowing about these things. Will Jevining even hints at that in some of his podcasts, and so does Mark Knuble and Larry Porch and Shelley Reid and their their podcasts, and I I'm gonna put a little ad at the end of this video for their podcast. You guys need to go check out the Sawdust Beast channel. I'll put a link in the description. If you're into this bigfoot thing, you will love these guys. They're happy,
super nice guys. They're they're just I've hung around them some and going on trips with them, and I love being around Mark Nouble, Larry Porch and their crew. They're just good, good people. Okay, this isn't a necessarily a bigfoot story. But it is a good story. It's a hunting story. Everybody likes a good hunting story, and I think you guys are going to find this captivating, the
writer says. During trapping season in nineteen eighty four, my friend and I went up to his family's cabin on the musket tattootuck muskut muskeet tattoo River to set our trap lines. Okay, everybody make sure and make a comment and correct me on that pronunciation, because I just mangled it and blew it. But I can barely read that work. That day, a mangy blue tick hound kept following us around while we were setting our traps. At daybreak. The next morning, we were up and stoking up the fire
and getting ready to check our traps. A very thick fog blanketed the area. While we were sitting around the campfire, a voice that seemed to be coming from a well called out, have y'all seen my coon dog around here? Well? We nearly jumped out of our skins. We were at a remote camp, yet the hollow voice sounded like it was right beside us. I slowly eased my hand toward my rifle, and I yelled out Is it a blue
tick hound? I'll never forget how he answered. The eerie, dejected voice simply replied no. My buddy was getting nervous by this time. I had my rifle in my hand, and I called out, why don't you come on into camp have some coffee. There was silence for a moment, and then the voice asked, are y'all trapping well? I said we were, and then got up to try to locate him in the fog. My buddy was already looking around, and he whispered to me, I can't see him. I
can't tell where he's at. All of a sudden, the fog began to lift, and we frantically searched around for the man that belonged to the eerie voice. I looked toward the river and I spotted the figure of a man with a fedora hat and a plaid hunting shirt. I ran toward the figure, waving my arm, saying, who should we contact if we see the dog? As I got close, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. He appeared to be an image projected onto the fog, and as the fog began began to break up, his projection began
to break up with it. He shouted out a name, and it escapes me to this day. And as the fog lifted, we went down to where I saw him, but there were no tracks. The rest of the weekend was uneventful, and when we got back to Clarksville, we told my buddy's dad about what had happened. He said that he had heard stories about a ghost that roamed the river bottoms around North Vernon. Twenty years later, I
was at a historical reenactment in southern Ohio. A bunch of us were standing around the campfire one evening, passing around a bottle of whiskey and telling stories. Two of the guys were from the North Vernon area. The bottle came my way, and after a stiff shot, I started to tell my story. A buddy and I had something where it happened to us up on Musk Attack Musket Attact Muska Ta Tuck River. One time. One of the men from North Vernon interrupted me. He asked, did a
man ask you about a coon dog? My luck told him the answer, and he told me the story that was passed down through his family. The ghostly hunter once had a number of children and was a widower and a passionate raccoon hunter. He dearly loved his children and was their sole support. Well. One night, he lost his dog out while hunting. Fearing to lose his treasured hound, the hunter left his oldest child in charge and went out searching. Tragically, he died that night, never finding his
beloved hound or getting back to his children. As the years passed, my memory fades. Now I try to convince myself that someone had shouted at us from a couple of hundred yards away and it was just a fog playing tricks on my ears. But in the back of my mind, I know what happened that day, and I know I'm lying to myself to think otherwise. That's what people do when they don't have reasonable explanations for supernatural events. Looking back, there was nothing malicious about the ghostly hunter.
He asked a few questions, and he was gone. To this day, fishermen, hunters, and trappers along the Muscatatuck River still have encounters with him, or so I've been told. I've been listening to your channel for a few months since my best friend recommended it to me, and your show is fantastic. Well, thank you very much. I appreciate that. I love the stories, especially the ones that occur in locations I've been to myself. They made me wonder what
I've been missing in the woods when I'm there. But the story I'd like to share is an experience that went far beyond my imagination. I've been a firm believer in Bigfoot since the age of seven, when I discovered its tracks in the snow behind my house in New Jersey, where I grew up. That was in nineteen seventy three, and it would be forty five years before I had another encounter with the elusive cryptid, and this one was really strange. I still don't know exactly what to make
of it. On August twenty one, twenty and seventeen, the day the solar eclipse traversed the entirety of the United States, my wife and I took a ninety minute trip from our home in western North Carolina to the Calpins National Battlefield in Gaffney, South Carolina to view the eclipse. Our house was just outside the area of totality, but the battlefield was inside of it. We arrived about twenty minutes before the eclipse started, and we milled about in the
open area around the visitor center. Calpin's Battlefield is a flat, thinly wooded park that allows a visitor to see one hundred yards in every direction. There were approximately seventy five people sitting in our immediate area, and I could see perhaps one hundred more walking across the battlefield proper from my viewpoint. Many of the people brought their dogs that day too. When the eclipse got underway, naturally all eyes turned to the sky, viewing it with their paper glasses.
I was also looking at the moon crossing the Sun's path, but a few seconds after the totality of the eclipse started, my attention was diverted by low, disturbing, grunting sounds coming from nearby my spot. I never heard sounds like this before. They seemed to be a combination of human grunts and pig snorts, only much louder and deeper than a man or pig could make. It also sounded pretty upset, like it had been woken up when it didn't want to be.
It didn't come from any of the dogs present either. Whatever made the sounds came from something far larger than the biggest dog present. Besides, once it got dark, all the dogs just lay in the grass, and they stayed quiet. I know that animals are supposed to behave strangely during an eclipse, but I've never known a dog not to bark its head off at the sound of a pen drop day or night. It seemed as if they weren't aware of what I was hearing, and I was soon
to discover that that was virtually the truth. Before I could say anything, my wife, who was much less a believer in Sosquatch than I am, turned to me and asked, is that a bigfoot I hear? The grunting continued for nearly two minutes. It was kind of hard simultaneously watching the eclipse and figuring out where the sound emanated, but I finally pinpointed the sounds coming from a thin patch of trees and brush fifty yards from us. I wouldn't
call this patch thick woods. It was only one hundred feet long and twenty feet wide, and I could clearly see the battlefield and the people in the field behind it. I don't think even a toddler could successfully hide in that scrub, but that's where the grunting originated. But nothing was there. Not only didn't I see anything, but looking around.
No one else present even seemed to be aware of it besides my wife and I. I could see them watching the eclipse and going on with their conversations, and not one person even looked in the direction of the grunting. Eventually, as the eclipse ended, the grunting faded, and then it stopped. The dogs jumped up from the grass and started prancing around. The people lowered their heads and made to leave, and I was left scratch my head and figure out what
it was I had just experienced. I've heard alleged Bigfoot recordings before, the howls, the whistles, the supposed Sisquatch language, and while I can't say that what I heard resemble those recordings, all I could think of was that the sounds could only have come from something as large as a bigfoot, and yet there was nothing I could see making the sound. I have never put much stock into the hypothesis that Bigfoot possesses paranormal abilities such as invisibility,
dimensional travel, or telepathy. I've always wanted to believe that it was a biological, terrestrial creature like you, me, and every other form of life on Earth. But this experience has me questioning those beliefs. Why was it that only my wife and I heard the sounds in the field full of people. Why couldn't I see it when it should have been obvious in that thin patch of woods. Did the eclipse have anything to do with this? It would be nice to find out the answers to those questions.
There have been several credible sightings of Bigfoot within a twenty mile radius of my house in the last several years, but I don't think he's going to sit down and explain it to me.