Archive 238 Bigfoot

happened to us in twenty and fifteen. In November. We had moved into an off grid RV park alongside the Lewis and Columbia River in April of that year, and during the summer we began exploring the wooded area behind the park. In the fall, I started having the uneasy feeling that we were being watched, but I never saw anything out of the ordinary. When winter came, we had stocked up supplies and were preparing to deal with the

cold weather coming on. We would not go in the woods hiking around, but around the third week in November, we noticed unusual activity going on. The area got quiet and I never heard so much as a frog croaking, and that's when I knew we were being watched. My husband and I were woken up to feel something large slap the side of our trailer from the backside. Our bedroom faced the woods, and it seemed that the woods amplified the sound, then the sound of something moving around outside.

Neither of us dared to step foot outside, nor would we allow our animals out. We could hear branches breaking in the woods behind us, and a little later we heard screams that would scare the Bejesus out of us. This, unfortunately was not the end, because whatever was out there terrified the dogs in the camp, and I heard more than one screaming as it was killed. That happened at

least three nights in a row. The screams from this creature could be heard from near the river and would start from around nine pm until three or four am in the morning. We didn't sleep much during this time. Then the third night, this creature came around again, and this time it shoved at the trailer. My husband was alone at the time, so I only had this accounting for this incident, but it scared him to death. I came home from staying over at a friend's house and

gave her heads up. She was skeptical, but didn't outright call me a liar. That night, the whooping and screaming went on again and again, and I heard dogs barking fiercely. Pretty soon, a neighbor living on the other side of the park grabbed his gun and emptied a magazine in the general direction of where it was. I didn't return after that. There was one rumor that said bear tracks were found, but I doubt that was it. Bears don't

scream and whook. But the most bizarre and scary point of this whole encounter was when my husband and I and our cats heard heavy pounding steps that literally shook the ground behind our trailer. We also had a swampy area behind the trailer that filled whenever the heavy rains came. My cat went on guard duty during that time and would lay between me and the window at any rate.

My husband and I have talked to quite a few folks at the RV part, and the odd thing was none of them claimed to hear or see anything out of the ordinary. We still live at that part. We've heard no more unusual activity, but have gone into the woods only during the daylight. We look up at the trees, and it does not appear that something very large passed through there. High branches are broken, and large trees are toppled over and right in the middle of the woods.

That was enough, plus our experience, to make believers out of my husband and I. The end, Oh wow, that's a good story. You know. The strange thing about that is you have all this stuff going on around around your trailer. And I'm assuming that the camper trailers I'm sure they're fifth wheels or you know, big box trailers

are probably fairly close together. I mean, you can probably see neighbor after neighbor, and all of this noise, all this racket, this thing slapping the side of your your caravan or your trailer, and nobody else in the whole place has any idea what's going on. They don't they don't hear it. The thing doesn't slap their trailer. But you seem to know what this thing was. Plus that premonition that you had of something watching you, you know, sometimes that sixth sense tells it all. This was a

great story. Dana, Dha and A. I'm very sorry if I butchered the way to pronounce your name, but it's it's spelled pretty it's spell and I think it's Dana. All right, Well, thanks Dana for the email. It was really great. Here is an email from Ted and here's what he writes. I'm not just a fair weather camper and fisherman. I love the outdoors and exploring it. And this is a true story. I'm now fifty eight years old.

On this evening, I was in my mid forties. My wife and I used to camp a lot in a big one ton truck and a camper rig that we own, And on this evening, myself and my friend Tom had just made camp on the edge of a secluded lake midway up Vancouver Island on the coast of British Columbia. We left our wives at an event in the town of Nanimo and we were going to continue on up the island. Okay, there's nothing funny about that sentence. However, I think it's funny that Nannimo is spelled Naimo and

the right phonetically wrote it out for me. And I don't know if he did that for me or if he probably does that for a lot of people. But I've had a lot of people say hey, I can do some editing for you, and I can even phonetically spell out the words that you probably can't pronounced, y'all. I'm not embarrassed that I can't pronounce some words. And there are some words that I know how to pronounce, but I cannot get my mouth to form the words. I don't know what it is. Anyway, I'm digressing quite

a bit here. I just thought that was funny that he phonetically spelled it out. All right. Back to the story. The plan was to rough it fishing in a rugged spot that I knew of, just us guys. After leaving the main highway, we had traveled for the better part of the afternoon down a gravel logging road to reach the spot. It was late spring and there was still a chill in the air. The trip in was long, but I was excited to experience these secluded lakeside ca

caampsites again. I expected some monster trout to be waiting. I had been there once before to visit a large cave that was at the very end of the road into this area. We made our way around to the backside of the lake and we had our pick of campsites. Well, if you could call them that. This mountain side came straight down to the lake without a natural beach. Whoever had created the campsites had cut away material for a road and then left it natural around the lake. The

campsites themselves were nothing special. They were just reasonably flat spots cut into the wild lakeside. Once we parked, looking back at the mountains, seemed to reach right down to the very edge of the lake, and it was an odd place, and I remember not being so happy with it. The truck was parked and the jacks were down, and I got on with building a campfire. We pulled out our chairs and began to talk and relax. Now Tom is a notorious loud talker. He had no sense of

how a private conversation worked. So what was once silent wilderness was now wide awake. The two of us were probably now audible all across the lake. That said, we heard no other voices. We were there on our own, and there was still a bit of daylight, and we were enjoying recounting the events of previous fishing trips. I was starting to talk about dinner when Tom's face took on a startled Look, Hey, you just about got hit

by that rock. He said, Well, I was oblivious. I'd just been gnattering away, but he'd seen a large rock fly by and land not far away from me. A few minutes later, another rock bounced past us, and I saw this one. It was a softball sized rock, and I couldn't help but be concerned. I recognized the danger of being hit. I figured they were rolling down the

mountain side because of snow melting. It was certainly steep enough that a rock could bounce down from some kind of natural erosion like that, but the idea that they were being thrown that never occurred to me. This continued a few more times until a big one landed in the lake, and with this we stood up and began looking up the mountain side. We couldn't see anything moving, there were no deer animals visible, and there didn't seem

to be an area that looked loose. Once we began surveying the situation, the rocks stopped, and it was hard to take in such a large area, and now the light was getting low. We lost interest in the rocks. I went on with cooking dinner. We ate and settled down to a few beers and probably some more lively conversation, and then something happened that I'll never forget. The silence of the lakeside ended like an alarm bell ringing, and what seemed to be a woman began screaming at the

top of her lungs. It was loud and clear, and coming from somewhere right above us on this dark mountain side. We were both instantly at full alert. The screaming then continued, just as loud, echoing out across the lake. This time it scared me to the bone, sending shivers up and down my back. The screams sounded human. It did not occur to me it was anything else but a woman screaming at the top of her lungs. Well, who was up there? There are no roads on that mountain. What

was someone doing up there? This was so out of place on such a quiet night, and with no other signs of people around the area. The area was not populated. This was logging company land, with twenty miles of boggy, mosquito infested forest punctuated with small, shallow lakes, were backing into coastal mountains, and beyond that was wild rainforest for many miles leading to the wild north coast of the

island was someone in serious trouble or being attacked. I had no doubt in that moment that that was the case. My senses were piqued and I expected to hear someone crying for help any second. A minute passed, there was nothing, no sound. Neither Tom or I spoke. It was completely silent. Darkness came quick and horror enveloped our campsite. The fear that someone was in serious trouble hung over us, but

there were no more signs of this person. We looked around as best as we could with our flashlights, and we called out into the dark, and there were no further signs of trouble or strangeness. I had a lousy night of sleep. I felt someone had been in trouble, but I also knew how odd it was. How could someone be up on that mountain side with no roads? She sounded really close. Why would she stop yelling? What would make a person scream like that and just stop?

There was intense emotion in this scream, and whoever did it was communicating with us on purpose. At that time, I didn't see how the rocks and the screams could be connected, But in hindsight and with what I've learned. I suspect it may have been sosquatch objecting to our rude and noisy entrance to the lake. Were we being told that we were not alone? Was this creature imitating the sounds that other humans had made when it had

encountered us? The next morning, several other camping rigs rumbled into the area. The sounds of a few families and boaters fill the air. We got on with our fishing, and we forgot about our strange welcome, and we never spoke of it again. Tom was killed in a car accident a few years ago. Now, I've camped throughout the rockies in the national parks, some with bears close, and

cougars are common animals here on the island. I've never encountered such a mystery in the wild country before or since. That's the end of his email. Oh man, what a great story. Vancouver Island is a total wilderness from what I understand. I've never been out there, but I've seen TV shows on it and videos about Vancouver Island, and I think it's full of bears. Brown bears, the real big mean ones like the grizzly Kodyak kind of bears. I don't know. In fishing. I think I'd have to

rethink fishing on an island covered up with bears. But I might be wrong. There may not be any bears on Vancouver Island. You guys, comment below and let me know people who know. I'd love to hear about it. But thanks Ted for this email. It was really good, what a great story. He hasn't seen anything before or since like this, and it really makes you wonder, really makes you wonder what's going on on Vancouver Island. Thank

you again for the email. Here's a story from my neck of the woods, just down the road in Tupelo, Mississippi. My son married a Mississippi girl and lived in northeast Tupelo until recently. It was a suburban area where the woods came up between the streets and they ran north to the forested hills and gullies along Elvis Presley Lake. We agreed it was squatchy looking. We even had some

odd branch constructions way up hind those woods. All kind of wildlife frequented the area because his property backed up to the woods. Having grown up in the Pacific Northwest, he used to tease his kids about bigfoot living in those woods. But he doesn't tease them any longer. I'll let him tell the rest of them story. We had a snowstorm March eleven, twenty twenty two, and the wind had knocked the trash can on the side of the house over. It was about seven forty five or seven

fifty PM. My wife had just come home and we were picking up trash using the car headlights to see when something let out a whoop, howl, scream. That's the best way I can describe it. It was incredibly loud, at least as loud as a tornado siren. Sounded like it was from that patch of woods right down the street. I wouldn't be surprised if half the neighborhood heard it, especially the people up in the trailer park on the

other side of the woods. It made us all jump. Oh, I can guarantee you the people in the trailer park heard it. You better believe that. In fact, the unbelievably loud scream we heard started with a whoop and then built into a howl, and finally a powerful but higher pitched scream. And it was all in one breath. There was no pause. It was like it was singing a scale from low to high. I said, dang, that was close.

My wife was like, what was that. I've lived around here most of my life and I've never heard anything like that before I have, I said. I guess my face gave it away, because she asked, do you think it was bigfoot? I said, Yep, that was bigfoot. Two weeks later, he was out back working on his lawnmower one night and he heard a whoop from the same direction. It was answered by another whoop from the other end

of the street by the pond in the woods. There's more than one, he thought, And the next day he laid down the law to a seven and five year old. No whooping and no banging around on things, and don't even think about going back in those woods. And that's when he quit teasing the kids or mentioning Bigfoot. They moved to a different town soon thereafter. Oh that's Tupelo's and that's in a suburban area. Now that's pretty cool. You know, there's all kinds of Bigfoot reports around here

around Mississippi. I live right on the edge of the Holly Springs National Forest. If y'all ever heard coonbo talk, he talks about his stomping grounds in the holly. Matter of fact, he even invited me to go with him one night. I don't really know if I want to go right around in cars whooping for bigfoots all night, but I might go. I don't know. I might go, but I kind of like the stories. I don't like

to put myself in the mix. I don't want one of them things after me because those things charge Coonbo and those guys. So but this was a great story. I really appreciate the man sending it, and it was close to my where I live. That makes it even more interesting for me. Here's an email from John. I'm not sure how to categorize this. When Neoma did the cleanup on this story, she thinks it's either a time warp or a matrix glisse. But let's read on and find out what it is. It's a pretty cool story.

In the spring of nineteen eighty six, I was working for Shell Oil in Long Island, New York. I took my vacations twice a year, one in the spring and one in the fall, so I could drive up to Saint Lawrence to see my family and friends. In the spring, I would do some fishing and in the fall, I would hunt. I owned a sport car back then, so naturally I pushed the limits with it. I can make that eight hour drive in six hours. On this trip, I expected to be back on the family farm by

nine am. My route took me through Plattsburgh and from there I take the military turn bike to Ellenburgh and then i'd take Route eleven to Constable. On this trip, this is where I began to get an odd feeling. I couldn't place my finger on why I felt the way that I did, until I realized I hadn't seen anyone in a while, not a single person. No one was out driving or walking around. No one was headed to work, no one was taking their kids to school.

There just wasn't anyone. It was so odd. But it was at seven o'clock in the morning, and I figured I was just in the right place at the right time to miss people starting their day. I was in Franklin County at the time, with another hour left before

reaching home. By the time I crossed into Saint Lawrence County, I was beginning to get worried I should have seen someone by then, and I started looking in the windows of houses and storefronts as I drove by, hoping to see someone, see anyone, and I never saw a soul. I was half an hour from the farm and I began passing the homes of friends, and I was sure i'd see people moving around there, but again there was

no one around. I pushed on tour home, knowing i'd see at least my four family members when I got to the house. But when I got there, they were gone. The door was unlocked, so I walked in and I called out. I got no answer. It was eight thirty am. Everyone should have been up and going about their day. There was livestock to ten two. That's it. I thought they must be out in the barn, but they weren't.

It was just the cows and horses. Now I was completely freaked out, and I decided to drive into town. It was a small town with a general store and a post office and a hardware store. There was a laundry mat, and there were a couple of bars. Now I knew the bars would still be closed, but the other businesses all would have opened by seven. I went to the grocery first. No one was there. It was open, but I could have run off with the cash register

and no one would have been there to stay. I was feeling more and more like I was trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. I drove over to a friend's house next. No one was home there either, and finally I decided to go back to the farm and wait. I was doing my best to be reasonable. That was probably an emergency somewhere, I told myself, and everyone went to help. I was reasoning with myself, and I didn't know where the emergency was, so I just have to go back to the farm and wait. Someone

would show up sooner or later. I was tired from all the driving through the night, so I stretched out on the couch and I fell asleep. And when I woke up, it was noon and my father was coming through the front door. I asked him where everyone went. He looked at me like I was nuts and asked what I was talking about. Dad. When I got home, everyone was gone, I said, and again he looked, but he said that a lot of people went over to

Messina for some big event from two whole counties. I question, and it was clear that he didn't understand, so I explained everything that had happened. He shrugged his shoulders and he said, you got to be mistaken, son. I went to the store, but I've only been gone twenty minutes. I thought you just got here. As far as he was concerned, everyone was where they were supposed to be. I've only told this story to a few close friends.

I know most people would think I'm crazy. I pushed it to the back of my mind and I have kind of forgotten about it over the years. However, listening to your last show about a guy who lost time while driving brought it all back. Was it all the result of a random event aligning perfectly or did something really strange happen? I guess I'll never know. And he mentions that he's got more stories and I would love

to read them. This is an old story, but I would love to read your stories, John, send them on brother. Thanks for the story. M