Archive 94 Bigfoot

water get ripped for seeing stuff. Try being over here where most will just call you a looney tune. We are a nation that prides itself on our rationality, the old stuff, upper lip and all that malarky. It may sound stereotypical, but that's just us across the pond. This this is the odd thing. I know. We have our fair share of weirdness in the United Kingdom, but this really took the biscuit, so to speak. I was camping

out on Dartmoor National Park. We have a couple of cryptids around here, like alien big cats, hell hounds, sea monsters and some really spooky, ghostly stuff, as well as a guy who's loved this stuff from a year dot. I want to say I'm not one of those gung ho types, but I thought I'm going to see if what they say is true. It was a quite pleasant end of a September day when I went out over there. I'm a curious little fella who is also an ex Special Forces so I kind of know what I'm doing,

so if I can, why not. Dartmore is a funny place to go hiking in. You need two sets of clothes even in the summer. The terrain changes rapidly and so does the temperature. That is to say, if you go to the top of the tours in summer, you'll be wearing winter clothing. But I digress. I wound up in Whitman's Forest. This is one weird place. The trees grow at angles and rocks have moss on them. It's a real Lord of the Rings kind of place. Some of the locals claims it was a Druid holy site.

I thought, if I wanted to see an ABC, that would be the place to tuck myself out of sight. So I found a lovely spot where all this stuff's about. I felt my camp, and then I went and put some trail cams about. After that came the long wait. I sat there by a roaring fire and watched a really beautiful sunset. If only it had stayed that mellow the rest of the night. By midnight, I was ready

to go hunting. As it were, I was hoping at least to get a cast of a footprint, But as you know in our game, it can be a long wait even for that much. I ventured for to dart More. It's quite a big force for England, but it opens up to more lands. I was over there for about an hour. Suddenly I couldn't shake this feeling that I was being watched. The hackles on my back of my neck started to prick up. Now every instinct I had learned or have naturally well sufficed it to say that

my spider senses were tingling. Straight Away, I went to the relative safety of my camp, knowing there were other indigenous animals in that place already set up my alerts. I sat down and was having a couple of beers, trying to chill out. But I couldn't shake that feeling

of being watched, tracked or stalk. It had to be one of those, because I was at least two miles from my camp when the feeling started and I still had it back at I was at least two miles from my camp when that feeling started, and when I got back to camp the feeling was still there. I was getting pretty freaked down by now. My mind was going twenty directions at once. Was it kids on wind up? Now? Why would they be here? A ranger? Again? No, they don't go there full stop. Then I thought, it's a

serial killer. They could dump your body over there and you'd never be found. Or it could be Satanists maybe or Pagans. At some point in its history, Dartmoor Forest was a sacred grove. That's when I heard the first twig snap. I immediately picked up my bill hook. A bill hook is a machete with a curve at the top. Also had my pocket knife in my other hand. And then I saw a set of glittering eyes in the

light of the night. I announced my presence and I said, I can see you there, Come out where I can see you. All I got in reply was a low kind of whistle. I gathered that whatever was looking at me was definitely not a human. The eyes alone told me that I've lived with a few different indigenous peoples around the world. I felt this relative to my experience. In a stern voice, I said, I'm not here to do anyone or anything any harm. I'm merely passing through.

You're welcome to come share my fire if you come in peace. And this is something I learned in the Congo in Africa. In other words, if you want what I've got, come to me and get it. I still had my blades drawn. I sat down by my fire, my blades on my lap, and that's when it stood to its full height. I uttered a pretty nasty expletive as I thought, you're a big one, ain't you. My training kicked in and I was working out his size and how long he could go. And then this thing

strode across my campsite. I saw it with my own eyes. He or she was seven feet tall and built like a brick, blank blank, well, you get the idea, mate. It was covered in long, shaggy hair like an orangutan, except it didn't walk on its knuckles like most apes do. And that was an intense smell to it as well. I sat there with my blades on my lap, making no movement at all. In fact, I pretended not to be paying attention to it. I really couldn't tell what sex it was, and in less than a minute he

or she walked through my camp. With that, I felt the animosity from earlier disappear. The rest of the night was perfect. I actually think it had come to work out what my intentions were in the forest. I never believed in the wood was that's what we called them in medieval times. But when I hear stuff like your wickedly awesome channel, I have to wonder. Besides, I know

what I saw. It seemed in action indeed, not so aggressive or isolated as bigfoot are over in the States, or as elusive as the Australia, although I think they sent tagging area like most primates do other than us. I only say this because the smell lingered. It was still reeking when I left. Well that's my tale. Please, if you could be so bold as to give your opinion on this, I'm a bit stumped, mate, cheers Jim. Well, Jim, I don't have an opinion, dude, that was your story.

I'm sorry I called you dude. Mate, I have to learn to call people in other countries what they're accustomed to being called to mate. Anyway, I don't have an opinion, but it's an unbelievable story. I think you're asking my opinion because maybe you have the idea that I know a lot about these things and I don't. I don't you know. Somebody asked me the other day, he said, what all do you know about Bigfoot? And I said, I don't know much about them. Never seen one, never

seen the track. I don't know anything at all about them. And I'm not going to pretend like I do like some people do, and to be honest, I'm a little curious, but I'm not really eat up with knowing a lot about Bigfoot. To answer your question, I don't think I have an opinion, although I will say, based on the stories that I have narrated up until now and read so far, I think it's quite unusual for one of

these things to walk right through your camp. I don't think I've narrated a story like that, but I have heard two stories like that from people who are, let's just say, big storytellers in the bigfoot world. Actually, they told me the stories face to face. I was with them. They were telling me and a whole bunch of people around the campfire, and they're great stories, and I don't really doubt them. I don't doubt them because other people

saw it too, so it does happen. I think it's quite rare for one of these creatures to just walk right through your camp. But what an experience. I mean, my takeaway from that would be I got to see something that very, very very few people see in this world. That's what I think. When I'm standing in waste high water in the middle of the winter in a swamp, hunting over a spread of decoys, and I get to

see ducks. A lot of times when the ducks come in, I won't even shoot because I'm seeing something that so few people in the world ever get to see. And it is an honor and a privilege to be able to be healthy enough to get there, to be able to own the equipment to get there, and to be able to stay there on really cold, icy mornings and watch that kind of thing happen. There are so many things that go on in the woods that if you just go and you be quiet and you just observe,

just kind of meld into the woods. You get to see things that ninety nine percent I don't know. I'm guessing ninety nine percent of the entire population never get to see. They may get to see it on video. You might get to see animals doing their mating ritual. You might get to see animals fighting. You might get to see, like I said a minute ago, ducks coming in and opening in the middle of a swamp, in the middle of a cypress swamp, watching them light on

the ground right in the middle of your decoys. Watching wood ducks shoot past you in the morning when they're leaving their roost. There's so many things you get to see if you just go there and be quiet, with no ill intention, sit back and watch, and you know, ninety nine times out of one hundred, you may not see anything. They know you're there, Everything knows you're there. But to just sit there and observe, I mean, heck,

just watch the bugs, you know. I like to go back and sit in a lawn chair by this pond behind my house and just watch the bugs flitter on top and watch the fish take them off the top of the water. I mean, not many people really think about that. Not many people get to see that. Like this little bird. I hope this bird survives and I'm going to get to see a bird go from just a day old. This little bird is no more than

a day or two old. If it survives, I'll get to watch it grow from just being hatched, hopefully to a bird that'll fly off and go into the wild and be wild. And it would just be awesome to do that. Now. I don't hold out much hope of that, but if I'm patient and I'm persistent with this bird, it might happen. I'm a sixty year old man. I'm pushing sixty, and this stuff still thrills me. This nature

thing thrills me. Okay, I know that I've talked longer than the story was, but I'm really adamant about it. A lot of people get to see videos. Go see it for yourself. Go see the things in nature for yourself.

All right, That's all I'm going to say. About A year ago, in February, I decided to go on a two night camping trip with three of my friends, John, Joe, and Jim to a called Nutria Number four, a couple of miles from Rama and Zuni, New Mexico, The lake is well hiding behind the hog backs and mountains and is a great for fishing. We set up camp at a campground located about a half a mile on top of a hill overlooking a small valley. It was a cozy spot behind some pine and cedar trees that acted

as a wind break. At four point thirty, after we'd set up the tent and gathered some firewood and done everything else we needed to do, Joe suggested we go down to the lake and throw some lines. So we packed some light tackle, knowing we wouldn't get back until after dark, grabbed our headlamps and headed out. It was a slow, cold night, but we managed to catch six

trout before heading back to camp. Around eight thirty, we were walking along in the dark in temperatures of around thirty degrees fahrenheit with me in the back, when we noticed everything had gone dead silent. We all stopped switched our headlamps to the highest settings before continuing on, checking every tree, scrutinizing every shadow, and repeatedly scanning the horizon for any predator or anything else that may have caused the quiet. I swung my headlamp around to my right

and caught eyes shine thirty yards away. They were close to the ground, so my first thought was that it must be just another stray dog that are so common on the reservation. But as I began to turn away, I saw out of the corner of my eye that those eyes began to float upwards. I had a moment of uneasiness, but I didn't want to scare my friends, so I said, hey, let's go a little bit faster. It's cold out. They picked up the pace and soon we were back at camp. By now we were freezing

and hungry. Our main objective was to build a fire and cook dinner. I thought about what I'd seen, and I decided not to mention it. I wasn't sure what it was, and I didn't want to get my friends worked up over what could be nothing. There was no use in all of us being on the edge. An hour later, we had a decent fire burning in front of us, and our bellies were full of trout and we were listening to some good music. As we sat

there talking and having a good time. My concerns over the rising eye shine passed once I was comfortable with the thought that it hadn't followed us back to camp. The sudden, unexpected sound of something that was too big to be just a twig breaking in the trees to our east sent that same fear running back through my body. Someone jumped up and turned off the music, and we

all grabbed our headlamps. We scanned the area, but the pine trees were too thick to see anything that might be standing in their midst We listened for another sound, not even daring to breathe, but we heard nothing. Jim picked up a rock through it in that direction. It was just our luck that he hit something. It released the most terrifying scream I've ever heard. With our eyes wide and our minds racing, we ran inside the tent

and grabbed whatever we could find to defend ourselves. We really didn't have anything that we felt was sufficient enough to ward off something that could roar like whatever that thing in the trees was, but even our pocketknives were better than nothing. Once we were armed, we stood still and we listened. We could hear footsteps coming towards us, like huge, thundering sledge hammers made by some monstrous beast.

The trees started rustling, and John began to panic. He was praying and pleading with God to rescue us, while the rest of us tried to calm him down. Outside. The footsteps grew louder and heavier as they got closer Inside. We exchanged silent glances, each of us us seeing the fear in the other's eyes and hoping they couldn't see the terror in ours. We caught our collective breath as a shadow stepped between the blazing fire and the wall of our tent and it stopped. It was enormous and muscular,

and it was walking on two legs. We watched in horrified fascination as this thing bent down and seemed to inspect our fish bones and leftovers. Seconds crawled by like hours before it stood erect, and it grunted before walking away, apparently taking our food scraps with it. Another forty five minutes would pass in the tent before we were able to talk, much less move around. We considered packing up and leaving, but we were afraid to make any noises

that might bring the creature back. Nor were we willing to leave the fire unattended, and we weren't about to put it out. Our only option was to wait out the night. It was ten but our adrenaline was still flowing. I knew we'd need more firewood to make it through the night, so I asked Jim to come with me so we could gather some. Joe and John stayed back

to watch over the camp. We had it out, keeping a constant look for any signs of the creature's return, as we picked up every piece of dead wood we could find. We reached the top of the hill and looked out over the moonlit valley below. To our utter shock and disbelief, running faster than anything I've ever seen, was a bigfoot heading towards the other mountain, and what seemed like only a few seconds had disappeared into the

pine trees, and it was gone. Jim and I looked at each other, unable to process what we'd just seen. We turned and ran quickly back to the camp to tell John and Joe what we had seen, confirming that it was a bigfoot that had come into our camp that night. A few minutes later, a long, low howl came from that other mountain to our west. I didn't sleep that night. I doubt the others did either. It was like we'd walked into a nightmare, and somehow managed

to survive, but my mind could not accept it. When the dawn broke and the sky began to turn a bluish pink, I got up and stirred up the last burning coals of the fire. Then I packed up everything outside the tent and was just finishing when everyone else slowly crawled out of their bedrolls. We cleaned up and finished loading up our gear without anyone saying a single word. Finally, as we were pulling out, everyone spoke at once, asking each other what had happened last night, and no one

had a real answer. That was the scariest night of my life.