It was a Saturday morning in February twenty and fifteen. My husband and I decided to take a day trip to Lake Pleasant, which is northwest of Phoenix, Arizona. We had purchased a very nice Ram power wagon not long before, so we thought we would take it for a nice ride and have a picnic. We arrived at the lake, rode around and checked out a few different areas, and at at about two pm, we found a nice area
and decided to have our lunch. As we were eating and enjoying the view, we got to talk in about a place called a Crown King that we thought wasn't too far away. We had always wanted to visit, but it never made it there. We had been members of a four wheel drive group a few years back that had planned a couple of trips to Crown King, but seemed it wasn't meant to be. A brush fire had stopped one of the trips, and I don't recall what stopped the other. After we ate, we decided to do
a bit more exploring. As we were driving down a not so good dirt road, we saw a sign that red Crown King. We knew it was the back way in and we agreed to check it out. We set the GPS and headed into what was for us unknown territory. This was around three point thirty in the afternoon. We noticed that we were the only ones headed in the direction that we were going. There were several off road vehicles going the opposite direction, and we noticed that they
were traveling at a high rate of speed. It was like they had to be out of the area before dark. We thought that seemed rather bizarre. We crossed a small muddy wash and at the time neither of us said anything. Thinking back, it was very strange because both of us had seemed some thing on each side of the truck, while we didn't mention it or stop to take pictures. We still can't figure out. There were huge footprints in the mud. They were well over a foot long and
at least seven inches wide. The tracks were very clear, even the toe prints were visible. By now, we had traveled quite away. GPS was still telling us that we were on track, but the not so good road was getting much worse. We went through a narrow area with dry brush on each side. My husband shed a few tears as we heard that dry brush scraping down the sides of that new power wagon. We had definitely given
it what we call the Arizona pin stripes. It was starting to get dark, but there was no sign of our destination. We had only brought enough food for our picnic, and all that was gone. The original plan for the day was to check out Lake Pleasant, have our picnic, and after a bit or sight seeing, we'd planned to stop at a restaurant somewhere on the way home. That wasn't happening by now. All we had was a half a bottle of water and about a half tank of
gas in the ram. We were watching the GPS closely. Now it showed our destination was just a few more miles. We were so happy. It was late and we were hungry, and neither of us had been to the restroom in hours. We hadn't seen anyone since before dark, and as I mentioned, they weren't going our way. Finally, the GPS said, you've reached your destination. It was the most lonely lost feeling as we talked a hill to what we thought would be Crowned King, only to find dead bushes and trees
and nothing else. GPS was worthless. We were for the first time in our lives. Lost, we kept going, trying to find our way out and back to civilization because there was no turning back. We were getting low on gas and had made so many turns we wouldn't know which road would take us back to the lake. We were counting on the way out if we could find it, being closer than the route we'd taken, but where was it.
We took a different service road that looked promising, but they either came to a dead end or they led us to another road. We had entered into an area where there were pine trees. Now we were not real happy at this point, and we were still lost. We had our half bottle of water, but not knowing how long it would be before we got out of there, we saved it. Plus we needed to use the restroom, but it was so pitch dark out there we weren't
about to get out of the truck. We were driving down the dirt road with our brights illuminating both the road in front of us and some area into the pines at our sides. We rounded a slight curve and what we saw will be etched in our minds forever. This took place in twenty fifteen, but the memory is as vivid today as if it happened last night. It was now, by the way that we decided to tell each other about the large tracks that we had both
seen earlier, but it failed to mention. Sitting on the ground kind of behind a tree, and not a small pine tree, mind you, was an ape like figure. We could see half of its back in its arm and part of its right thigh. It seemed to have its legs pulled up against its body. We could also see the right side of its head. The part of its shoulder that we could see stuck out from the tree
about two feet sitting on the ground. It seemed to be from ground to the top of its head as tall as me, and I'm five foot five inches tall. I couldn't tell how muscular it might or might not have been, but it was well filled out out and very big. We got closer and it turned its head more to the left, away from us. It had silver gray hair that looked about the same length all over. Because of the gray, we thought it might have been older.
There was no mistaking what it was. These lights were bright and we were only about twenty five feet away. We drove on there was no way we were going to stop for a better look or pictures. I'm pretty sure we were both in shop. We just kept moving on down the road. About a mile with the ac on, the noise of the truck engine and the radio turned up. All of a sudden, above all the noise we were making, there was this indescribably loud, grunting roar. It was unforgettable.
It was the type of sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. We didn't slow down, we just kept driving. But now it was around midnight, yet to find our destination, and we really weren't caring now. We just wanted to find the highway. We wanted to find civilization. Finally, a bit after one am, we saw a small settlement. It was just a few houses. Oddly, at roughly one point twenty am, every house had what appeared to be every light on. We remarked on how
peculiar that was. About ten minutes after that, we finally found a highway, and a few miles later we found a place to eat. We were in such a state of shock that all we could do was sit there and try to process what we had seen. It occurred to us that we had been lost for almost ten hours. The next day, I looked up bigfoot sightings around the Prescott Crowned King area. I read several posts and stories.
One of the posts said, if there have been bigfoot sightings near your home, leave all your lights on all night and they won't come into your area. Could this possibly be why the little settlement had all the lights on. We have since wanted to go back in the daylight to check out where we had seen it. We haven't as of yet. We don't really tell this to very many people. You know, all those weird you've lost it looks you get. However, my husband and I know what
we saw. We have always been believers in Bigfoot, and now, beyond a doubt, we know they exist. They are out there and thank you for reading my story. For unclear reasons, it appears that the thirty third year of a man's life may be fraught with darkness and peril. After all, Biblical accounts inferred that the itinerant preacher from Nazareth was betrayed for a measly thirty pieces of silver during his
thirty third year of life. King Richard the second of England and also King Charles the Fourth of France also met an untimely demise at the age of thirty three, as well as the late great soul singer Sam Cook prior to his planned a military incursion into the Sauty Peninsula. Alexander the Great died in Babylon on the threshold of
his thirty third year. As for me, I was thirty three years old in nineteen ninety, and sadly my life was upside down at that time, two years out from my divorce, which was largely a consequence of my own misdeeds, I was finding little if any pleasure in life. My behavior had become reckless and irresponsible. I had dated many women at the same time during that era, with complete disregard for their own emotional needs. Frankly, I was a
cad and an apparent dangerous one. At that I would press the bounies of my own health and well being by taking out my nineteen sixty eight Big Blocks Shelby on Interstate ten in the wee hours of the morning near Pacacho Peak and hold down the accelerator pedal until the speedometer was buried well above the one hundred and forty mile per hour mark. Rest assured this car was and still is powerful enough to transport me to another
realm of existence with utter disregard for earthly remains. At the time, I just did not care about myself or perhaps anything else for that matter. The only thing that seemed to give me any meeting was my work, and perhaps that is why I took on assignments and projects that, in retrospect, were not particularly beneficial to my spiritual well being. In nineteen ninety I elected to farm myself out to
offer expertise in medical legal malpractice matters. In the fall of that year, I was scheduled to render medical opinion concerning an unfortunate case of a man who had a delay in diagnosis of cancer and this led to his premature demise. His estate had sued the doctor who had committed this alleged omission, but before the matter went to trial, the defendant, who was only a few years older than me, had subsequently died from cancer. Also, is there such a
thing as karma? What do I know? All I can tell you is that God in his universe often works in strange and mysterious ways. Frankly, as both the plaintive and the defendant in the matter were now dead. I should have resigned from the entire case, but I had signed a contract, so I was obligated to hold up my end of the deal as a medical expert witness. The trial would be in northern New Mexico, not far
from the Colorado border. The plan to fly into Albuquerque, rent a car, and drive up for the trial to render my opinion concerning the case. As stated, I was out of sorts and I did not want to be alone. I took a girlfriend with me, who had spent her entire life in the Southwest but had never been to New Mexico. I promised her that if she went with me, we would do some sight seeing. We arrived in Albuquerque during the first week of October and subsequently rented a
car at the airport. I took my girlfriend on a tram ride up the top of Sandea Peak, where we made reservations to eat dinner at the restaurant at the top of the mountain. The tram ride at Sandea Peak has the second longest non supported cable run in the entire world. Although it was late in the afternoon, we still had two hours before our dinner reservation, and this gave us some time to hike along the crest trail
at the top of the mountain. We hiked north towards the Kowanas Stone House, which was a structure built by the C. C. Sea Boys way back in nineteen thirty at the beginning of the Great Depression. I'm not certain if that stone house had ever been served in any meaningful purpose during its nearly one hundred years of existence, but it is a tremendous place to watch the sunset. The entire trail loop was only about one point seven miles long, and the hiking trail was not a particularly
arduous endeavor. On the hike towards the old stone structure, we passed many people who were heading back to the tram to depart the mountain. We were not particularly concerned, as we were readily enjoying the aspen trees which were now exhibiting their bright yellow fall foliage. Much to our surprise, when we made it to the Kawanas House lookout, there was no one there. We had the whole place to ourselves.
We stayed at the look out until the last ray of sunlight peered over the top of the nine mile hill, which was about twenty miles in the distance. Once the sun had set, it was time for us to return to the trail head and head for the restaurant. As we walked back to our destination, it got dark rather quickly. For all the world, we were most likely the very last people hiking on the Crest Trail at that time. In the middle of our return journey, we passed through
a heavily forested area. To our left, which was an eastward slope of the mountain, there was a steep drop off that rolled away at approximately a sixty degree angle. That entire area was filled with thick brush and broken limbs and fallen trees. That is when it happened. Forty feet behind us and to the left on the downward slope, something came crashing through the brush. We could hear the
snap of fallen tree trunks breaking. On a curious note, whenever we stopped, whatever was following us beside the trail would stop. Also, I was absolutely certain that we were being stalked by a bear. I would still profess that theory except for one unsettling fact. Periodically, large stones were hurled at us. Most were the size of baseballs, but one was as large as a loaf of bread. The stone would land at a distance of five or perhaps
ten feet behind our steps. To this day, I'm not certain if whoever or whatever was throwing those stones was highly inaccurate and missed us by fair margin, or perhaps more likely, it was only trying to encourage our departure from the forest at an expedient pace. Whatever we were dealing with, it was clearly not a bear, as these creatures are incapable of throwing objects. As previously stated, I was embedded in a rather reckless and impact ruous time
in my life. On several occasions, I would turn towards the thicket to verbally challenge whatever was stalking us, utilizing harsh threats and perhaps even professing unpleasant invectives that had rudely questioned the paternal lineage of the lurking menace in question. In retrospect, this was probably not a particularly good idea, and I was admonished by my girlfriend from my feeble attempts to provoke whatever it was that was trying to usher us from the premises. Within a few hundred yards
of the restaurant and the tram left. The forest had receded, and whatever had elected to rudely escort us off the mountain never did reveal itself. My girlfriend and I decided not to stay for dinner, and we hastily departed from the top of the mountain. We headed back to Albuquerque proper, as we had a long drive ahead of us in the morning to get to the medical malpractice draw that would take place in northern New Mexico. It is often said that wisdom is acquired by the one learning from
his or her own mistakes. I dispute that adage. I believe wisdom is garnished by learning from the mistakes of others. Now, remember another event that had occurred in New Mexico on January first in nineteen eighty six. The day before, on December thirty first, nineteen eighty five, the nineteen fifties pop singer Ricky Nelson had died in a plane crash west of Texarcana. As I was a fan of the do wop in nineteen fifties music in general, I was rather
distraught about his passing. On January first, the day after Nelson had died, I decided to take a long drive to Mount Taylor, which was fifty miles west of Albuquerque, just to clear my mind. I was warned that the road was under safe and unfit for two wheel drive vehicles, but I failed to listen to this sage advice. The person who had issued this warning to me had previously broken down halfway up Mount Taylor. Has stated one should
learn from the mistakes of others. I had attempted to drive up to the top of Mount Taylor on a forest dirt road in a two wheel drive sedan, and I promptly broke down about halfway up the mountain. I waited four hours until someone else had come by and was able to successfully contact a tow truck on my behalf to get me out of there. I recalled that
it cost me a small fortune in towing fees. While I was waiting for the tow truck, I saw what I thought was a black bear standing behind a tree, periodically peeking at me from about one hundred and fifty paces. Looking back now on that more remote event, I'm wondering if what I saw was not a bear after all. Not bears hibernate in the winter. Mmm.