Archive 76 Bigfoot and UFOs

and enjoy some good banter and good chap. The spot we frequented was a lay by about a third of the way up a damaged road with a steep incline and many hairpin turns as it snaked in an s up the side of a small mountain. The road was edged with forty to fifty foot conifers, some ash in a few large oaks. Just off the road was a large piece of woodland. I say large because on our tiny island, three hundred acres is large. On this stretch

of where there are no street lights. Homes were few and far between and were in set back, so any lights from them didn't reach the road. It was dark as dark can be out there at night. One fall evening, Scott and I visited our usual spot with another friend we called Jack. We had been there maybe an hour, paying no mind to any of the surrounding area outside of the white ninety two Nissan Murker we had bundled into. We were laughing and having a good time, just enjoying

each other's company. We hadn't even noticed how quiet the woods were. Suddenly the inside of the car went silent as well. Everyone stopped talking and Scott reached past the steering wheel to silence the radio. We were all sure we had heard something really close. A thud made me wind down the window on the passenger side to listen. That was when I realized I couldn't hear anything in the woods. We have an abundance of why life in this area, another reason I feel so lucky to live here.

There are rabbits and squirrels, red fox, badger, deer owls, and other birds of prey like kite and buzzards. At that moment, none of them were making a sound. Not even the insects could be heard. The only noise that broke the silence was the light rustling that was coming from a field that was situated up a steep embankment just to our left. It was coming from the other side of the field. We thought nothing of it until we heard another thud right next to my open window.

A rock the size of a small melon had been thrown with great power and even more impressive accuracy towards us and landed a couple of feet short of the vehicle. It hit the ground so violently that I was sprayed with muddy rain water right into my face. That was it. My window came up. Not that a window would have stood a chant against a rock that size, but it made me feel better knowing there was something between us

and whatever had just hurled a thirty pound rock. We were considering our options, which in all honesty shouldn't have taken as long as it did. It was obvious that we should have just gotten the heck out of Dodge at that very moment, but for some reason we stalled on making our getaway. I looked up and out of the front window, and then quickly hushed the others, telling them to look dead ahead. Our car was pointed as though we would drive straight up the hill to the

next hairpin that was perhaps fifty feet away. The inclined put the gravel level at about ten to twelve feet higher than we were. We all saw it. Rather, we saw its eyes, two big, round, amber colored eyes, hovered about six inches apart and what I estimated to be some eleven feet off the ground. This thing must have been immense in height and stature. I have always been a bit big for my boots, with a chip on

my shoulder, A naturally brave person. It helps, being five foot ten and two hundred and thirty pounds of muscle from manual farm work and many hours in the gym. Jack isn't a small guy either, standing six feet tall and weighing around two hundred and fifteen pounds, but Scott was a mere five ten and one hundred and seventy pounds. Being the brave boy I am, I got out of the car to get a better look. Scott and Jack were both yelling, what the hell are you doing? Jake,

come back, get back in here. We need to leave. I gave them a soft hush and started to slowly make my way up towards the eye shine. Maybe I was hoping it was an owl perched on a low branch. As I got nearer, I realized this wasn't the case. I started to make out the creature's outline, and as I did, I stopped dead in my tracks. This thing was enormous. I was now maybe thirty feet away from it, and I could see that it had short but very

thick legs, a long body, and thick long arms. If it had a neck, it was half an inch long. Either that or its shoulder muscles were the size of a grown pig. It was easily ten or eleven feet tall and four to five feet wide at the shoulders. I just stared as it made a low huff with every breath. That was when I turned from a big, brave boy to a scared little girl and started walking backwards towards the car. I got back in and quietly

said drive. There was a pause before he reacted, but before Scott could turn the key in the ignition, we heard another thud. There was another rock, slightly smaller than the last, and it had been thrown and fell just shy of the vehicle. This time, I screamed at Scott, just drive, Scott, and he did. Never before has a one thousand cc hatchback been driven so quickly. Fair play

to Scott for the previous unseen skill. Thinking about it now, I don't think whatever this creature was wanted to hurt us. It just wanted us to go. Mission accomplished and we got out, Nor did we return to this spot for several weeks. I had another encounter with this thing, and it happened some months later in a different area of our surrounding woodlands, but only two miles or so from the spot I visited with Scott and Jack. I was hiking alone in the springtime near a derelic castle called

gerich Garrick Castle. I'm sure I got that wrong. It has been long abandoned, though many attempts have been made to restore the castle. It was in the middle of the afternoon, with many hours of daylight left. I'd heard stories of dogs going missing here, but I figured they just ran off and never found their owners, as it is a large area. However, I found evidence to suggest otherwise. I came across a small black fur At first I thought it was a locals farm sheep that had strayed

and perhaps caught its wool on the brush. As I got closer, I realized it was fur and not wool. A little further up the trail I found some more a lot more a full labrador's coat of black fur. There were a few bones lick clean. Some had been splintered, as if bitten with great force. I started to get the feeling that I was being watched. That's when I heard a loud wood on wood not I shot to an upright stance and stared intently in the direction from

which it came. But I saw nothing. After my previous encounter several months earlier, I wanted nothing to do with this. I turned back into the frightened little girl again. I spun around and high tailed it back down the trail and broke the tree line faster than I knew I could. Lily, Hush, Lily, quick barking, Lily, Oh my gosh, this dog. That's my little pug. She won't shut up. She barks at everything.

I'm sorry to interrupt this story. I spun around and tailed it back down the trail and broke from the tree line faster than I knew I could. I've told no one about these two encounters until now. Neither Scott nor Jack have spoken of it either. I didn't even tell them about the second encounter, nor have I had another encounter or seen any signs of it since in my mind. There's nothing that is going to tell me otherwise.

Although I thought bigfoot Sasquatchannetti lived in North America and Russia, I know now that they are on UK soil as well. Bigfoot lives in my town discreetly and quietly, without being seen or heard by the majority of people. I hope to God that it stays that way. I grew up in North Texas, where my dad, my brother, and I used to chuckle about my grandmother always talking about Bigfoot. She was from Oklahoma. Although we have no records to prove it, we believe she was Choctaw Indian. Her name

was Annis Nation. We always thought she was off her rocker. That is until one weekend when I was in high school, I went deer hunting with my dad and brother. We were out at a deer lease just west of Jacksonboro, Texas. Dad had his truck and we were staying in one of those pop up crank style campers. Each end of the camper folded out, forming the twin sized beds where we slept. The walls, if they could be called that,

were made of heavy duty cellophane style plastic. They were not clear, which allowed for little privacy, but in the evening, light and motion could be seen inside the camper. We didn't have much luck hunting our last day there, so we all crashed relatively early. Dad was sleeping at one end and my brother and I were sleeping at the other. Sometime in the night, I was awakened when I felt the camper shake a little. My Dad and brother were

both sound sleepers, I'm not. It took a moment to register that I had felt something, but it was late, and I was tired, and I was only half awake. I blew it off and tried to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, the camper shook violently. This time I was wide awake. I looked around me as an uneasy feeling crept over me. I was trying to figure out what could have made the camper shake. When it shook again. I was mentally searching for an explanation while

trying to contain my panic. When it shook a third time. Every few seconds. Now it was rocking as some some one we're trying to get the last nut out of the bag of airplane peanuts. Uneasiness jumped to fear when I saw the silhouette of something on the side of the camper, perfectly outlined by the full moon, was something ginormous. I could clearly see the shape of its head on top of its massive shoulders that had to be five or six feet wide. The top of the camper was

eight feet tall. We were all well over six feet tall, and we could all stand easily inside the camper. Add to that fact that it sat a couple of feet off the ground. But the head on this silhouette outside of the camper was at the top of the camper when it pressed up against the camper, as if it were trying to see in. I glassed at my brother next to me and my dad across the way. I was mortified to see that they were both sleeping like babies through the whole thing. I was too terrified to

move or make a sound. There were several thirty six rifles close by, but I sincerely believe none of them would put a dent in that thing. All I could do was lie there and hope that it would eventually go away. I guess it finally decided there wasn't anything of interest inside the camper, at least not anything worth tearing it open to get at, and it wandered off, not seeing it didn't provide the relief one might expect. I was awake until daybreak That morning. I went out

and looked around where it had been standing. There was a greasy face print on top of the plastic covering. I didn't mention it to my dad or my brother, and that was the last time I ever went honting. There are still many things in this world that we don't know about. Bigfoot is one of them. With tens of thousands of encounters, we can't all be mistaken or lying.

If the government knows about them and comes out and says they are real, it will cause a lot of problems, affect everything from the national parks to the oil and timber industries. I also believe some of these things are dangerous and have killed people. But if the government doesn't know about them or doesn't admit they exist, how many more people will die? I have a couple of pretty tame encounters I'd like to share. In twenty fifteen, I moved to Montana. I'd always loved the idea of living

in the mountains and exploring in nature. By twenty and sixteen, i'd finally become a resident and was chomping at the bit to go on my first deer hunt up in Little Bear Canyons south of Bozeman. I'd driven up the ten mile access road using my spotting scope. Along the way, i'd spotted a really nice buck mule deer along with a few dos up on the side of Wheeler Mountain. I parked at the base, partially blocking an ATV trail to let people know the area was occupied. I walked

for about a mile and then tested the wind. I figured if I went straight for them, they'd catch my scent and my hunt would be over for the day. I decided to make my way around the mountain above them and come down from the top. After about three hours of stalking carefully making sure not to spook anything else that would alert the deer to my presence, I finally made it to the top. It was very thickly forced it to one side, so I decided to stick close to that tree line for cover while I worked

my way down to the deer. When I got to thirty yards from the trees, I began hearing some kind of grunting. I stopped, thinking maybe it was a bear or some other large creature. I couldn't make out the sound very well, but whatever it was definitely new. I was there and was walking towards it. I took a knee and I listened. It had grunted off and on for about five minutes when I heard what sounded like a large branch breaking. Now I was thinking it might

be a moose. Everything went dead silent. I checked the place where I'd last seen the deer to see if they were still there, and they were, but now they were looking in my direction. I remained down on one knee, not moving in an inch, and began slowing my breath to try to keep calm. I thought whatever it was would looten's interest in me and move off. I looked back over the tree line, squinting to try and locate

the source of all the noise. The sun was up all the way by now, warming my cheeks against the frosty air. It was seven am. Shadows were casting everywhere in the forest. Another five minutes passed since I'd heard the limb snap, and I hadn't seen anything else, so I turned my attention back to the deer. I didn't want to walk into the forest after all that noise, so I looked for a different route to get down to them. I saw one game trail that was my best bet, and, due to the fresh layer of snow

that had fallen that morning, my least slippery option. Unfortunately, it took me closer to the thick forest. With my hand resting on the grip of my side arm, I started walking towards the trail. I was only ten yards from the trees when a perfectly healthy, maybe eight inch in diameter lodge pole pine fell across the trail that I was planning to take. At this point, I was feeling nervous, so I decided maybe something or someone was

just saying this isn't your day. And since sound of the crashing tree had sent the deer bounding over the next ridge, I made the decision to not test whatever it was stopping me. I turned around and went back to my truck, following the same way that I had come in. I have a great respect for nature and conservation. I've hunted deer since I've been old enough to hunt on my own, and I listened very closely to what nature tond El Meet in twenty fifteen, and I only

moved to Montana also got my CDL. Needless to say, I've spent a lot of time trucking in Montana, and here's my second encounter. At the beginning of twenty nineteen, in early February, I was asked to hol a load of hay down to Utah Idaho state line. The weather was bad the night before, so I decided to leave a couple hours later than usual to allow the road crews time to stand the roads. It was nine eighteen am,

and I will never forget it. I was almost thirty miles south of Enis, Montana, going about forty five miles an hour. The roads were still a little slick, and I was taking my time in being careful. I was almost to the point where the road parallels to Madison River. As I rounded the bend, I looked down into the clearing across the river, and there it was. It was about one hundred and fifty yards from the road, covered

in black hair from head to toe. It was walking back towards the forest, but it stopped and turned to look back at me. Its shoulders were extremely broad and it was incredibly tall. Its hair was blowing in the wind that was coming off the canyon. I had a perfect view of it. There was no question about what I was seeing. There was a small mound up ahead that was going to block my view for a split second,

so I slowed down. When I came to the mound, I decided if I saw it again on the other side, I was going to stop and try to take a picture. And it was still there, but running towards the forest. Now, by the count of three, it had covered the roughly two hundred yards from the river to the forest, and it was gone. I called a friend of mine who lives in Indiana. First. He's a strong believer in bigfoot, and I told him what I saw. He said, finally,

I'm not alone. I've always loved movies and stories about bigfoot. My wife and I often talked about the possibilities of seeing one. She's somewhat of a believer, so I called her next. I had debated about telling her for a good reason, and our conversation went something like this, good morning, darling, You'll never believe what I just saw. Really, what did you see? I finally saw a bigfoot? She started to laugh at me. Yeah, right, No, seriously, Look, I want

to believe you. Any other time I would have if you hadn't been watching Bigfoot documentaries all weekend. Crickets started chirping. We love to go back to this conversation. We like to tease each other about it, but I don't think she will ever believe me until she sees one for herself. Unfortunately, we may never go back to where I saw it. We recently moved to Texas from my work. Hopefully, one day, on one of our mountain excursions, we will get another

glimpse at one of these amazing creatures. Mhm