Bigfoot vs Grizzly

Right, I have a bigfoot story here from Mike. I really loved reading this. I hope you all enjoyed. I sure did. In twenty nineteen, I made a trip to Tennessee to visit my mom and dad. While I was there, Dad and I decided to drive to Chickasaw State Park to hike the trail that goes by the lake. Dad was eighty four years old and I was more than happy to do something to spend time with him. My wife and I just spent a weekend there camping in November, a Thanksgiving

weekend. It's a lovely park, Chickasaw State Park in West Tennessee. If anybody ever is looking for a nice place to camp, it's a good place. Back to the story, the weather was perfect. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the temperature was hanging out in the mid sixties. We couldn't have asked for a better day to hike. We began at the swimming area and headed across the bridge. The trail turns into the woods at the edge of the bridge, and we followed it until we came

to a tree that we noticed had some initials carved in it. They were over sixty inches up the trunk, so I assumed they must have been there a while. I supposed we were both thinking about whoever put them there, when I happened to look down and see a set of tracks. Now I bent down to take a closer look at them. It was a left and a right foot side by side, with toes visible, as if something had come and stood where we were, and looked at the same initials carved into

the tree. I was carrying a pilot G two pen with me, so I took it out and I used it for a size reference. They were definitely too big for a human. They were roughly sixteen inches long and five inches wide, and Dad looked at them and agreed with me that they didn't look human at all. We were speculating about what could have made them while I grabbed a couple of pictures of them, and I suddenly began to feel

like we were not alone in the woods. The last thing I wanted was to alarm my eighty four year old father, but at the same time I was becoming anxious about getting out of there. About that time, I heard a loud tree snap from farther up the trail, and everything I ever read or heard about Bigfoot came rushing through my mind. How many times had I or heard of people having the feeling of not being alone? Were we being watched? I heard that it might be a way of them telling us to

leave their territory. Were they communicating with me? I read somewhere that they may communicate by knocking on trees, and that means there might be more than one. So I knew not to run. I heard they will chase you if you run and don't make Ayeka attack. They might see that as a threat. I didn't look up to where the tree snap came from. I

gently put my hand on Dad's arm and we moved away. We made our way down the trail and we saw a deer, a canine, and raccoon tracks, and then we ran into a young lady who said that her dog had run off in the woods. Well, that explained the canine tracks. She asked if we had seen it, but we hadn't, and I wondered if she was the reason I had felt like we were not alone on the trail. She moved off to the opposite direction from us, and we finished

our hike at the park cabins. I was relieved to be off that trail. We got a drink of water and we cooled down a bit before jumping into my suv and heading home. And although I really do believe that we found Bigfoot tracks that day, this story probably doesn't mean much to most people, but it does to me. I'll cherish the memory forever because of the tracks so much because I was with my father. The tracks will help to amplify the memory of that day, but it was the time spent with Dad

that mattered the most. Oh, what a nice story. That is a very nice part. We went there, it was cold Thanksgiving weekend, and when I go out in the woods, I never think about Bigfoot. I just enjoy where I'm at on my rides in the mornings with my dogs, Like this morning was a great ride. It was. We got started a little late, the sun was coming down, and I just enjoyed it.

So I was at Chickasaw and I Bigfoot never crossed my mind. But that is a thickly wooded area of West Tennessee, and I suppose there could be good habitat for Bigfoot in that area. But this story was great. This guy got to spend some time with his dad. I don't know when I got this story. I could look and see I'm too lazy, but this was probably within the last year or so. So I hope his dad is

still doing good at eighty four or eighty five. And I'm glad he got to spend that time with his dad and saw some probably legit Bigfoot tracks. It's a great story. I appreciate these stories so much. Thank you for sending. Hey, y'all, welcome to the podcast. I appreciate you clicking on the video. You just heard a really good Bigfoot story. I've got three more. You want to stay to the end because the last story is unreal. It's one of the best stories I've ever gotten, So stick around.

Let's get rolling, all right, Here we go. This email is the man wrote a really nice note on the front end of it. He's sixty seven years old. He's working on a again, as you well. There's no date on this. There's a date on the email, but there is no date on my copy. I copy these out of the email and I put them in Microsoft Word. I send them to Neoma. She makes sure they're good. She sends them back and I read them to you.

So I don't know when I got this, But at the time of this writing, he was sixty seven and he was working on a scientific paper about Bigfoot, and he said that he wasn't sure he could finish it, and that when he when he did finish it, he might not consider it polished. It was written in a scientific style, but he tried to keep it simple for the lay person to understand. I don't know if I have received

that or not. I'll look. I have his email address here. Anyway, I'm just letting you know this is a thoughtful man and he's about to tell you a story that is not Bigfoot related, but it's probably pretty good. I'm reading this cold, so I don't know how this is going to go, but I want you guys to pay attention because I think it's going to be good. All right, I'll shut up. Back in the nineteen

eighties, I was working down on Long Island for shell oil. I was from Saint Lawrence County, New York, so twice a year i'd take a vacation and go back home. The first was in the spring to go fishing, and the second was always in the fall to hunt. In nineteen eighty six, during the fall hunting trip. I was staying with my best friend and his wife. They had just moved into a little house on an out

of the way road with hundreds of acres of woods behind it. The house was so small that I slept on a cot in the closed in front porch. I didn't mind because it was cool out there and I preferred to sleep in a cooler environment. Each morning during my stay, we woke up early and we had our breakfast and we're out the front door at the crack of dawn, and then we'd hunt all day until dark before heading back. On

this Saturday, it was a rainy and windy day. We stayed out in it, but I wasn't dressed for that kind of weather, so by the time we got back to the house, I was chilled to the bone and dog tired. All I wanted to do was take a hot shower and climb into bed. Unfortunately, my wife's friend had invited some friends over and they had a night of drinking and dancing playing at the local bar in the dance

hall, and they were disappointed when I bowed out of the festivities. But my body was aching and all I could think about was a nice hot shower. They said their goodbyes and they left without me and I headed to the bathroom for a desperately needed shower, and after a nice cup of hot cocoa, I climbed into bed. I was about to doze off when I felt my friend's cat jump up onto the bed. It walked from my feet alongside of me, and it laid down absently. I began petting it. I

was relaxed having the cat there beside me. It's fur felt long and luxurious, longer in fact, than I remember it's fur being. My eyes were closed and sleep was taking over when I felt it stand up and walk back to the bed and jump off the bed. The cat's fickled that way. Several hours later, I was awakened by my friend and his wife coming in from their night out, and as I opened my eyes, I saw their cat in the door with them. How did the cat get out, I

asked. My friend's wife shot me a puzzle look and said I let her out before we left. No, I told her I was in the house and it jumped on the bed and I was betting it well. They laughed and they said that I must have been dreaming. I was one hundred percent certain that I was still awake when that cat jumped up on the bed, but it was two am and I was too tired to argue. If they were playing a joke on me, well then let them have their joke. They went to bed and I went back to sleep. The next day,

the lady from across the road came over for coffee. My friend's wife told her about me and the cat, apparently thinking she would tease me about it, but rather than laugh, the neighbor lady turned paling and said, did you know this house belonged to a witch? Three sets of eyes turned to her. Was she kidding? She went on to say that she believed the owner of the house was a witch because she had long black hair and she

was mean to everyone. The woman lived alone except for several cats, and she seldom came out of the house, and she eventually died in the house because no one else wanted to live in it, and that was when my

friend and his wife were able to rent it. I told the neighbor lady that I felt the bed move and then I was petting something with long hair that I thought was my friend's cat, and that was when she told us that while the house sat empty, there were times when she was sure that she could hear noises coming from the house, she wouldn't come near it. It wasn't until after my friend and his wife moved in and they became friends that she set foot inside, and then only because they had become friends.

A few days after that, we were watching TV when I could have sworn I saw an apparition walk from the dining room to the kitchen. Now I freaked out, but my friend only laughed. He said he didn't believe in ghosts, and that nothing had ever happened in the house before to make them

feel otherwise, nor had his wife ever mentioned anything about seeing ghosts. A few years after that, they moved out, and although he had admitted that a few odd things happened to them while they were living there, he insisted that they only moved because the place was falling apart and the landlord refused to

fix anything. The following year, the house was torn down. It's easy to think that life would be straight and narrow, all according to science, without any deviation, and then one night a cat that isn't a cat jumps on your bed and changes your whole perspective. Oh man, you know that's not like a terrifying type story. But I keep thinking in my head, was he like rubbing that that old witch's head? Like was she laying beside

him? And was he like rubbing her head? His eyes were closed, He's almost drifting off to sleep, and it's like one of those creepy movies where those kind of stop motion people kind of walk and crawl and stuff. And did she crawl it beside him? And he was rubbing her head? Who? Man, it gives me the willies. Anyway, this was a great story, John, Thank you for sending it. And I'm going to look to see if you've sent your Bigfoot your Bigfoot stuff. If you have,

I'll probably pull it up and read it. If you haven't, I would be interesting and reading it. So it's hard to keep up with all the emails I get. I still still get several stories a week, and I'm going to try to get to all of them. But this one was kind of special to me. I thought it was really good. It's special because it was very thoughtful. It is a thoughtful story. This man really thought about this, and so anyway, I appreciate the man sending it,

and I appreciate you listening to it. Let's go to another one. Here's an interesting bigfoot story. I think you guys are gonnae the writer says. I live in North Florida. My property has grandfathered in with the Swanee River Management District in the al Alpaha. I don't know how to pronounce it Wildlife did Conservation District. The al Paja River borders one side and the Little River on the other, making up approximately one thousand acres where every type of wildlife

can be found. There are bats and flying squirrels, and gaiters and coadies, and deer and bear are known to come through at different times. I'm a wood savvy woman who is at sixty seven and is more comfortable in the wilderness than in a mall. I love that. I love that. Oh that's my kind of girl right there. It was late summer twenty twenty one, when the days were so hot and the humidity humidity was so unbearable that

it felt like you were breathing through a wet rag. The rain would bring only a slight reprieve when it felt like a wall of water hell bent on cooling off the land. At five pm that day, my beagle and my bully both made a break for the woods. A bully is a pit bull, by the way, and I love pitbulls. They're wonderful dogs. Usually I would give them time to run the woods and wear themselves out, knowing

that they'd return when they got tired. But that day time got away from me and a squall was coming in before I realized they hadn't come back yet. By the time I loaded my nine millimeter and grabbed a flashlight, my foul weather gear, and towels for the dogs, it was already raining. On a sunny day, it would have still been light out, but the

storm turned that day tonight. The only light was from my truck's headlights as I pulled through the gate heading to my nearest neighbor's house, where my dogs usually ended up when they didn't come home. My winsheld wipers were wide open, and I had an arm out the window holding the light beam on the roof of the truck's cab. The dirt road was a soupy river of pooling water, and visibility was somewhere around zero. Twenty yards from my gate,

I caught sight of a rabbit running across in front of me. I let my eyes follow it across before turning back to focus on the wall of water in front of me, and instantly, a very tall figure on two legs crossed on the heels of the rabbit. I didn't see any real detail. All I knew was that it was tall and it moved with lightning speed. My truck has three inch lifts and I sit on a pillow, and still

it was taller than I was in my seat. It had a flattened down appearance, like hair when it's wet, and it didn't seem to have a neck. I was reminded of thing on the Adams Family Show, but clearly it was something, but I had no idea what it was. I quickly turned around and went to look for tracks, and of course the rain had obliterated any possible evidence. I went back to the house and got my three to eight just in case, and then I went to the neighbors in search

of the dogs. I didn't see them immediately, but on a hunch, I checked this open ended stall where he parks this tractor, and there was my bully. She was crouched in the far corner and she was whining and cowering, was growling and acting crazy, and she refused to budge. I grabbed a towel, intent on wrapping her in it so I could lift her into the truck, and she did something that she's never done before, not

even once. She snapped at me. I took a good look at her then, and her eyes were as big as saucers, and she was clearly scared out of her mind, and she was peeing on me. Meanwhile, the rain was still coming down with a vengeance, and I still hadn't located the little beagle. I pulled back into the yard and I called for her, and I was worried that she wasn't with the bully. As I listened, I heard her barking at the back of the property. It wasn't a

bark like she was chasing something or on a scent. It was an odd sound, almost like a cry. I left the bully in the truck and shouldered by three to eight and I grabbed the light and headed in her direction, and I kept calling for her, and as I did, I could hear that she was getting closer. And when we finally met at the adjacent property line, I was so relieved to see her that it took me a

moment to fully take in her appearance. A thick layer of mud was perfectly covering her back, as if a cake decorator had spread it on with a spatula. I'm guessing that she burrowed into the mud for reasons of her own. As I bent down to wrap a towel around her, the hair on the nape of my neck started to tangle. It was then that I realized that this area where the rabbit was and its pursuer were headed. I had to think, now, if I carried the dog, I would have limited

access to my three to eight. If I put her down and let her run, would that trigger the predator instinct in this thing? Just go? My mind sat as I stood there at water logged boots and soaking wet clothing. Go go, go, and with each step forward I anticipated being jerked backwards by massive Eastley hands. Somehow we made it to the truck and I got us back to the house and I parked as close to the door as I could, and I ran for it, with the dogs leading the way.

We made it inside and I spun around and slammed the door shut before locking it once we were warm and dry. I gave myself time to reflect on what I had seen. It was a large, fast moving something that ran after a rabbit. That much was a fact. The dog's behavior could be explained away by the weather, I suppose, But I have never had my bully snipe at me before, and both dogs were terrified. It was obvious. Never before or since, have I seen what I saw across that

road that day. There was no roar, there was no smell, there were no red eyes. But I firmly believed that that visitor was a bigfoot. Oh that's cool, and she saved her dogs. I think I'm sure those dogs were scared of whatever that creature was. I'm not saying it was a bigfoot. You believe it was a bigfoot, what else could it be? It's probably the most logical conclusion. But this was a great story,

and this woman has a lot of heart. Man. She carries around a three o eight and a nine millimeter and at sixty seven, she's more comfortable in the wilderness than in them all. Ah, that's awesome. I really appreciate this story. It was written really well. I know we all enjoyed it, so thank you. Ma'am for sending it. Here's a bigfoot encounter from Well. He doesn't say whether to use his name or not. Obviously

I won't. Here's what the man writes. He claims it's true. After living with this strange event in my mind for more than a few years now, and upon hearing others coming forward and sharing their own unusual encounters, I thought I'd take the time to recount to you and your listeners what happened to me many years ago. My friend grew tired of our home state and yearned to be somewhere with the mountains, lakes and an abundance of natural beauty.

I find plenty of natural beauty wherever I have been in Ohio, especially in the area that borders West Virginia. But my friend longed for something a little different, and when the lease was up on her apartment, she packed up all her worldly possessions and, with the help of some of her family members, she relocated to Missoula, Montana. A part of me was happy for my friend, but another side of me was sad and maybe even a little

upset that she chose to move away. We were never more than platonic friends, and neither of us ever tried to move our friendship in a more romantic direction, and that suited us just fine, and it still does. But I knew I would miss having her nearby to hang out with. It helped that we stayed in touch with almost daily phone calls and emails and instant messaging. Because Missoula is relatively a small town, she deserves her an inmity.

And I won't go into detail about what my friend does for a living, but she does it well and enjoys it a lot and has paid well for it. Late in two thousand and seven, when I expressed a need to break from my own work, she invited me to come to Montana for a visit. I needed a rest and I missed my friend, so I accepted her invitation. I'm a mechanic by trade, and I own my own shop, and it takes time to make arrangements, and I also don't like to

fly, so for me, driving was my only option. It was June of two thousand and eight before I was able to make it out there. The next eight days were great. I decompressed and reminisced, and together we explored some of that natural beauty she had moved out there for We took a day trip to Idaho, and that evening, after arriving back at her place, she surprised me by announcing that we would be heading north the next day. First we would go to Flathead Lake and then later to Whitefish to do

some hiking on some private land owned by her boss. The next day, we packed up her vehicle and headed out, and two hours later we arrived at our destination. We were too full from the snacks that we had brought to bother eating anything else before heading up the trail. I backed her car into the narrow area off the road where the trail began, and we got out. The trail, if you can call it, that was not well worn. Considering that we were in a remote area on a private land,

I shouldn't have expected it to be worn. My friend was excited to get started, so we grabbed the things we needed, my walking stick and sunglasses and bear spray and bottled water and my cell phone, and we started up the trail. I led the way with my friend following. I could hear every steps she took on the path that was covered with dead sticks and leaves. Although the trail wasn't much the view was majestic, and the mountains were

something that I could stare at all day. Now I had been in the Appalachians at different times of my life, these mountains were considerably more impressive and scenic. We had been hiking for twenty minutes when my friend had to stop to work a cramp out of her calf, and I offered to wait and rest with her, and even to head back to the car once she was able to walk again, but she insisted that this was my vacation, and since I don't take many vacations, I should head up the trail and that

she would catch up with me shortly. Now I was reluctant to leave her behind, but she was insistent, and I finally agreed on the condition that she take the bear spray. We only had one can between us. She balked at that too, but when I told her that I would only go a quarter of a mile and then stop and wait for her, she agreed. The next eight minutes or so, I plodded along, taking in the view and listening to the unusual sounds of small animals, chattering, birds,

singing, in insects buzzing, and then everything got quiet. It happened so suddenly that I couldn't help but notice it was like a switch had been flipped. I looked all around, wondering why everything had gone so silent. It usually means there's a large predator in the area, and I was unarmed, and then thirty yards ahead of me, I saw it. It was a large male grizzly bear, staring directly at me, and my heart sank into the pit of my stomach and then jumped back up into my chest and began

to beat furiously. My hand reached for the can of bear spray, even as my mind was telling me that it was not there. My friend had it with her. I took inventory of what I had. A five foot walking stick, a bottle of water, my flip phone, a little beef jerky in the poe pocket of my cargo shorts. Not much to work with when dealing with a grizzly. I considered climbing a nearby tree, but then I remembered that it would climb up after me and pull me out like I

was one of the stacked potato chips in a can. I was considering my options when the bear started moving toward me. I nearly voided myself at that point, and then this thing suddenly and without any noise, appeared in the path next to me. One minute I was standing there alone facing the grizzly, and the next it was standing beside me. To my right. The bear stopped its charge abruptly. I don't know if it was sizing up the thing beside me, or if it was just as stunned as I was to

find it there. Without warning. In a blur, this thing that I now realized was a bigfoot, lifted a rock the size of a cantlope over its head and threw it at the bear in a long art. The rock struck the bear on its shoulder and the side of its head, causing it to let out a startled yipping noise, and when the bear didn't move, the bigfoot creature took one step toward it. At that point, the bear, which must have weighed a solid five hundred pounds, did an about face

and ran back into the forest. I was already completely astounded when the creature turned and looked down at me with those kind eyes before walking slowly into the woods in the opposite direction. I was too dumbfounded to react any further. I thought a lot about what it looked like. From everything I've read, heard, or seen about them, it looked like a bigfoot. I've watched the Patterson Gimmlin film, and if I had to guess, I would say

it was maybe two feet taller than that one. Its fur was dark brown and so shaggy that I couldn't make out any well defined muscles. However, it threw a big, heavy rock like you are I might throw an acorn, so it must have had mussels. It was the eyes that I remember the most. They were almost human, with a mix of green tinged with gray. There was no discernible odor. No, a dog rolled around in

an outhouse pit and then took a bath in skunk spray. No, it smelled so bad that it melted my eyeballs and burned the hairs out of my nostrils. It was nothing like that. I don't remember any odor at all. What I found most astounding, aside from saving my bacon, was how it stepped on the same trail I was walking, that my friend had walked, and that was covered in leaf litter and sticks, and it never made a sound. I believe these things can be extremely loud and vocal when they

want to, but they can be silent as a ghost too. I've learned about the evil types of big foots, but this one obviously wasn't one of them. It was more like a guardian for me. I didn't waste any time heading back down the trail to my friend, and I found her standing in the same area where I had left her. She might have said something, but I didn't give her a chance. We need to go now,

I said firmly. She opened her mouth to protest, but there must have been something in my expression that made her close it again, and she followed me back to the car. The whole way back, I felt like the Bigfoot was watching us to make sure that we made it out safely. And when we reached the car, I put my walking stick into the trunk while my friend got into the passenger seat, and then I turned back to the woods and I mouthed the words thank you, mister Bigfoot before getting into the

driver's seat and leaving. On the drive back, my friend asked me what happened. I said that she would think I had gone backpoop insane if I told her. You know, you can tell me anything, right, She prodded, whatever you choose to tell me does not go beyond us. I nodded and hesitated for only a moment before telling her the entire story. Well, she was flabbergasted and shocked, and she ultimately said, I believe you. I told her. I was glad to hear it, because I didn't

think I was ever going to tell anyone what I saw. Ever, I went back to Ohio, assuming that she would be the only one I ever told it to. But now I've shared it with you. My friend is happily married now to a wonderful man, and I have a girlfriend and a child, and my life is pretty happy too. Her and I are still friends, and we have always been and will always be. This may be the most awesome, nice bigfoot story I've ever heard. Such a subtle way

to step in and save this guy from a probable grizzly attack. The way he describes it is unbelievable. This thing just looks It's subtle. It steps out into the trail, the bear doesn't leave. It chunks of rock at it hits it. The bear still doesn't leave. The bigfoot takes one step toward the bear. The bear leaves, looks down at the guy probably kind of ends if he didn't visibly probably inside smile said you're okay, and walked off into the woods. And this man respected all of that. I thought

this was an awesome story. I can't tell the writer how much I appreciate him, including us in the people that he's told this story to. I didn't give you his name, so nobody knows who he is. This is a wonderful story. I really appreciate it. Woo who Okay, that was a pretty good podcast. I thought it was. I thought those were great stories. I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm kind of trying to do a podcast today. My goal I've always had this goal to do one podcast

today for thirty days straight. I probably won't make that, but this is day four. I've got put a podcast out for four days. Like I told you in a previous video, I m out of worked now, so this is all I have to do and I'm going to try to hack out a living doing this. So if you guys want to help me do that, share these videos, comment a lot, hit the like button. If

you're new to the channel, hit subscribe. I've got five hundred videos up all these kind of stories and they're all enjoyable, they're all good, they're all written by good people. Anyway, I appreciate you listening, and we'll see you guys on the next one. Thanks,