Archive 72 Bigfoot

a seventy eight Bronco. It was white, it was an OJ Bronco, and I loved that car, and I don't know why I sold it, but anyway, I'm glad we were in that vehicle, or we might have not gotten out of there. We were down in the woods doing what couples do in the woods at night, when we heard a noise from something that was making sure we knew it was there. We never heard any hoops or hollers, nor any tree knocks. It was just the god offless breaking of limbs and trees I've ever heard in my life.

It was loud and angry. It didn't just want us to know what was there, It wanted us to leave. I talked to a bigfoot researcher who said it was mad because at one point I got out and urinated thereby marking its territory as mine. Well, maybe that's so. The researcher also said that this bigfoot was probably a loner, and that's why we never heard any grunts or tree knocks.

He didn't have any friends around to communicate with whatever it was telling us, we stopped doing what we were doing, and we decided to get the heck out of there. My lady friend was so scared she curled herself up in a ball in the front seat and hugged her legs with her head down. I was scared, but I had to keep control and drive us out. I was checking the mirror and what little I could see in

the brake lights for anything coming up behind us. We worked our way around a corner, holding our breasts, expecting at any time to see something jump out at us or show itself. Then we hit a straight away and I kicked it from third into fourth. But up ahead was a tree lying across the road. It wasn't so big that we couldn't get over it in my Bronco, but a smaller or less powerful vehicle probably wouldn't have made it. I made the split second decision not to stop.

I knew there was no way I was getting out of that truck and moving that tree by hand. We were moving so fast when we hit it, I didn't feel like much more than a bump in the road. We were so scared we didn't feel it anyway. We had it straight from my buddy's house, who lives down in that area. He and I had done a lot of exploring on our four wheelers over those woods. The bigfoot researcher told me that the bigfoot probably knew my buddy because it followed us to his house that night.

After that, he had several strange occurrences happen. One night, he heard all kinds of bumps and growls outside, like someone was throwing things at the house. One thing I don't understand. It was pretty clear that it wanted us to get out of there, But why did it block the road with a tree. Was it trying to push us further in the woods, or was it trying to hurt us? Or was it trying to catch us on the tree. If so, what did it want? This all happened off of Highway two twenty one in Forest City,

North Carolina. If anyone has an answer for what it was trying to do, I'd sure like to know. This is a story I heard a few years ago. It would be a crime not to let your audience hear this. The story takes place in the nineteen eighties in the state of Utah and is about two young boys who have the shock of their lives when they came face to face was something that most people claim doesn't exist. A mining company needed two workers to clean out a mine located on a mountain side in a remote area

in Utah. As luck would have it, they found two college students from Washington State who were interested in the job. One of the boys was nineteen and the other was twenty one. Strangely enough, they were both bigfoot enthusiasts and were no strangers to being alone in the woods. They arrived at the mine and set up their campsite. It was a very organized campsite, and these lads were to

remove debris from this mine with buckets. A few days passed, and then early one morning, one of the mine owners was awoken to the ring of his phone. It was his partner. The boys had called him from a phone booth in town. Parently they had wrecked their car coming down the mountain side. Baffled by the news, the two men met and then drove to the town through pouring rain. While driving, the man who took the call said the boys claimed to have been chased off the mountain by

a Sasquatch. They both laughed it off, thinking these kids just wanted out of the job and needed help after wrecking their car. Had they not wrecked, the owners probably would have never heard from them again. This is what they thought, but they would soon discover the truth. Finally making it to town with the rain increasing throughout the drive, they found the phone booth where the boys asked them

to meet. They expected to find the boys in a nearby cafe or place of business, and they never actually looked at the phone booth until one of the young men yelled for them. They looked over and inside the booth were two college aged men huddled together, wearing nothing but their boxer shorts. They ushered the kids into the truck, where it was warm, and then drove a block to

the first cafe they saw. Once inside, the waitress brought them towels and blankets, and soon they were dry and warming up it with some food finally in their stomachs. The two employees told this story. The young men had taken the job so that they could be in an area with reported bigfoot activity. Their plan was to do their work and spend their off time searching for the creature.

While doing research in Washington State, they had captured vocalizations bigfoot screams and howls, and had brought the recordings along with them to play on a loud speaker. After finishing their work the evening before, they set up the loud speaker and began playing the sounds, and something roared at them from a distance away. They turned the speaker off, and then they discussed it, and they ultimately agreed that the roar they heard was a bear, so they restarted

blasting the sounds into the woods. Well, whatever had roared before began roaring again, and this time it was closer, and it was a continuous series of sounds. Now they knew they had attracted a sidequatch and there was no doubt, and they were excited. They admitted that they should have left the area at that point, but in their minds, this was the coolest thing to happen since their bigfoot investigations had begun, so they cranked up the volume and

let the recording play. The roarers got louder and they could now hear this thing coming toward them. Branches were cracking as it moved closer, and they could actually hear the footfalls of the creature. Now, not wanting to overdo it, they cut the feed to the speaker and moved into their tent, where they apparently thought it was safe, and then began making vocalizations with their own voices. I think we can all agree that these young men had a

screw loose. Maybe they were just over confident that they were safe. That was about to change, though. The tent was quickly jerked upward, lifting both men into the air, until the floor of the tent ripped out, sending them a few feet to the ground. In an instant they were sandwiched between two enormous, smelly creatures. The only conclusion would be obvious that the creatures had no interest in harming these young men, because they turned their attention to

the camp and began tearing everything to pieces. With the raging creature's attention elsewhere, the young men saw their chance to escape and only their underwear. They sprinted to the car and took off down the mountain. At some point in their escape they had a tree which made the car useless, and from there they walked into town through the freezing rain. But still their employers weren't sure if

they believed the story. One suggested they get the young men into some clothes and then go to their campsite to salvage what they could. Both of the students shook their heads and emphatically stated that they were never going on that mountain again, and as a matter of fact, they were clear about getting home as soon as they could, even if they had to walk back to Washington State in the freezing rain wearing only their boxers. The owner

of the cafe had joined the group. He told all the men that he would get the young men outfitted in new clothes and help them find a way home. The two owners of the mine, however, were curious about the story, and they wanted to visit the camp. If this story were true, there would be evidence to back the story up. Up so up the mountain they drove in the rain. By the time they reached the campsite, the rain had stopped and on the way up the old mining road, they stopped to inspect the car the

men had abandoned. It looked like they had hit every tree and rock on their way down. The damage they saw was not from the impact where the car now sat. They hit everything. It was in a place from which it could be easily towed. Whether the car was worth salvaging would be up to the body shop and the insurance adjuster, assuming these kids had insurance. Now at the campsite, the owners stood at a distance taking in the destruction. It looked nothing like a campsite. It was more like

a corner of a landfill. Debris was scattered about, and nothing looked like its previous form. A cast iron stove that was once inside the tent was now broken into pieces, and pieces of cass littered the area. Coolers had been crushed, and tents and sleeping bags shredded. Even suitcases were ripped open, and the boy's clothes didn't survive. Every garment was torn apart. Everything that once made up the organized campsite was now destroyed. Even the soda cans were crushed flat, every single can.

One of the owners bent over and picked up a piece of a toothbrush. Neither man had spoken since they arrived, and finally one broke the silence. You believe this sosquat story, Well, I didn't until I saw this. I think we need to sell this claim and cut our losses, said the other, Well,

you read my mind. Let's get off this mountain. The mine owners left the mountain and then made certain the college students had a way back to Washington, and after thinking the cafe owner, they left and they never returned to their claim. My story started many years ago in northern Minnesota, being a hardened Minnesotan Minnesotan Minnesotan, I don't know how to say that Minnesotan is one of my attributes that I wear proudly. Growing up in the harsh

north woods. I often think of the encounters I experienced as a young man growing up. However, not until the last five or so years did I realize what I encountered. I met my wife thirty five years ago, and I married her. In all those years I let her know of my strange yet unverified happenings in the woods. She would say, just lay off the bourbon. It wasn't uncommon for me to take my leave of her and venture out into the deep woods for quite some time. Camping

is my passion, and I did it often. Moving to Wisconsin in nineteen ninety, we started our family, and I've been blessed with a son and a daughter and are very close to me and my wife. Both my kids are avid outdoors people and we get to experience nature as it was meant to be. After careful consideration, I've decided to share my most recent experience that makes me think that these creatures of the forest are not only

here but mean us no harm. I'll begin by saying that my thoughts on bigfoot are met with hardcore evidence that they truly are real. My son and I are active in hardcore hunters. That being said, we often abandon all other activities when hunting season is open. Last spring twenty and nineteen, my son and I were camping on private land in western Wisconsin. The landowner lets us do whatever we want in exchange for chores that need to

be done on the property. Prior to my last encounter, may I say that not only has my son and my daughter and yes, my wife have not only seen our hairy creature, but have come to enjoy the gifting process that we have started with them hunting this property. We have experienced and become somewhat comfortable with the sightings and gifting of our hairy friends. I am blessed that my daughter, wife, and son have gotten to experience what

I have. At first, we were terrified of what we saw and experienced, but over time though, we realized that they mean us no harm as long as we respect their space. It was May of last year and my son and I were turkey hunting on a spring hunt. We set up camp and what we call the bottoms. It's three hundred acres of woods and it's our playground and wild game is plentiful. The landowner dropped by with his wife and we drank and relaxed by a fire.

Deep into the evening. We already had three days of camping under our belts and had some interesting things happen. It was Friday afternoon and we saw turkeys, but none were close enough to harvest. We headed back to camp and the landowners showed up and brought bourbon and chicken quarters for the open fire. Strumming my guitar and feasting on campfire chicken and having a relaxing evening. They left

around ten thirty and drove back to Madison. My son and I stayed up drinking and singing to my guitar. When I noticed something strange in the darkness. Just out of the light of the fire, one could make out an outline of two beings in the distance. I reached over and tapped my son, and I pointed in the direction of what I was seeing. Holy shed, Dad, there they are, yep, I said, are you scared now? He said, I think they're like playing, if that's possible, as he laughed. Well.

Around midnight, we decided that it was time for bed, so we retired to the tent. Getting up to go hunting at four point thirty would come pretty quick. Before going to bed, I went to potty behind the tent and the creatures were gone, so I climbed in by my sleeping bag and it was a wonderful end to the day. One of the many nights my son and I have camped in these woods, it became obvious that

we had company. It was only after many nights that we realized that our forest friends would always let us know that they were there. It was spooky and comforting at the same time. And let me say that after getting used to it, we slept pretty well. Prior to retiring. We stoked the fire with wood, so we had a fire in the morning, and I naturally wake up early, and even though we stayed up late, I would be up at my normal time of three thirty or so

making coffee and breakfast. But I didn't that morning. I was perhaps really tired, as I slept until five am. But it wasn't me that woke up. Something outside the tent pushed me out of my cot The push was powerful and firm, and I sprang awake and I reached over to my son and he was there, and I said, get up, man, it's late. And I ran out to see if I could see who or what had pushed me out of my bed. My son said, Dad, what's got you all wound up? And I told him what

had just happened. Well, he laughed and he said, well, they probably know what our schedule is and they woke you up. I took comfort in that, as it made sense. I went on to make coffee, and being late as turkeys were already out of their roost, we ate breakfast and decided to say screw it and just hang out at camp. But what happened next is something that I

will always remember. We were planning on camping another two days, so we were running low on eggs and bacon, and so we jumped in my truck and we drove the ten miles into town to get what we needed. We got back to camp around nine thirty am, and what we saw was simply amazing. There was a huge tom laying next to the table where the camp stove was, and its neck was broken. Well, I'll be down. He gifted us a turkey. I said, how freaking cool is that.

Our excitement was overwhelming, and we shouted thank you out into the woods, and even though it was now ten am, we both took a shot a while turkey still in disbelief, and decided to gift them with some eggs and bacon. I cooked up a batch and put it on a paper plate and walked over to our gifting site and I left it there. Shortly thereafter, we heard a whoop and it was loud and close, and I smiled and I said, well, it's safe to say they got our gift.

And I walked over to the gifting site about three hundred yards away and the plate was gone and in its place was a shiny, speckled rock. It's not the first time that we've been gifted rocks, and for whatever reason, they seem to gift back with rocks. Well that's our story. Yes, I know some of you will find it unbelievable, but everything I've said is true. I know for sure if people would put down their phones and reconnect with nature,

one never knows what may happen. It's a couple of weeks ago you did a phone interview with a Colorado big game outfitter that has gotten me curious about this exact area, and I'll explain why. He mentioned he was in southwest Colorado for the past several years. Myself and several friends from here and around the country meet up in elk hunt in the San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado.

We are in the area near the town of Dolores, a little more specifically, out in the mountains above Groundhog Reservoir. Back in twenty eighteen, I was hunting on top of a mountain called Black Mesa. The snow was kneed mid thigh deep on me and I'm six foot tall, and as I came up over a small ridge into a larger clearing. My path took me through what I came to see as a track of large prints. At first, I didn't really think much of it, as they were obviously a day or two old and the weather and

fresh snowfall had made some effect on them. The more I looked at them, the more intrigued I became. While the weather may have eroded them, they were still almost double the size of my size twelve boot. There were no drag marks between the steps. They were postholed across the clearing with what was clearly a bipedal left right gate. What made me think more about it was the stride,

which was four to five feet between each step. There is no way somebody in my size could replicate that, And even more amazing was the fact that the trackway never broke its stride. It came up out of the woods, across the clearing and back down into the woods, with a total distance of one hundred yards, and that was what I could see. I took a few photos, which I'm embarrassed to say are of mediocre quality at best. Being more focused on looking for ELK, I took a

short break and then continued on my way. I mentioned the tracks to the other guys without much response. Nobody in our group saw anything out of the ordinary for the rest of the trip. In twenty nineteen, in the same area, myself and another guy had a couple of unexplained events on separate nights. This time we were camped near the side of Black Mesa. On our second night in camp, I was awakened by a rhythmic knocking of wood on wood. Two knocks, Wait ten seconds, and then

two more. Wait a few more seconds, and then two more. This went on for a couple of minutes, and it seemed to be fairly close. At one point after the two knocks, there was an additional knock that sounded much farther away, and at that point the double knock started to move away, still knocking at ten second intervals until

I couldn't hear them any longer. I was the only person that heard those knocks that night, and again I failed to investigate it, being that it was in the middle of the night and it was twenty five degrees out side. I rolled over and I went back to sleep. I mentioned it to the group the next morning, but nobody heard anything. The third night, another member of our group heard the same knocks, but he too didn't get

up to explore. The area behind our camp was heavy dark timber heading downhill toward a draw with a creek at the bottom. I put out a couple of game cameras but didn't capture anything. Those were the only two occurrences we had last year. These two incidents made me curious if the outfitter you interviewed was in that same area. That entire area is surrounded by cattle ranches and guided huntland.

I've been interested in the subject of bigfoot for a long time, although a lot of things I've seen on the internet I've been fairly skeptical of. These two events have peaked my interest into digging a little deeper.