Brothers Outrun Bigfoot

we got there, we found it was locked. My dad never locked the house, but I guess because it was Christmas he had locked it. We didn't want to walk back to our grandparents, so we climbed into our red nineteen fifty Model F one. We call that thing the red Wing. We were sitting there talking for a while when we went quiet and we were just looking around.

We could see pretty well because of the full moon at night, and we had heard a bunch of leaves for us ling like someone was taking steps through the woods. We figured it was an armadillo, so we didn't think anything about it. And then I noticed something moving in the tree line. What is that? I asked my brothers. We all looked, and though it was a clear night with a full moon, we couldn't make it out clearly.

The only thing that we could come up with was that it was someone in a gilly suit sneaking through the trees, trying to take our Christmas away from us. But we looked at each other and we nodded. We had to defend the house. We didn't have any time to come up with a plan, because this big guy walked up to the fence my dad had put him around the house, and he stepped right over it. We knew right then it wasn't a man in a gilly suit. That fence was four and a half feet tall, and

this thing stepped over it. It was nothing. We jumped from the truck and ran as fast as we could back to our grandparents' house, and we fell through the door, and all of us started telling our story. Well none of them believed us. After all the laughings stopped, my dad and grandparents called it at night, and life continued on as usual, and Christmas was not stolen. It was a month later and my dad was in town at the local coffee shop, and he was telling this story

to a few of his former friends. One of our neighbors had told my dad that he had seen something strange about a week before Christmas at the edge of his property. My dad may have claimed he didn't believe us, but we were never allowed to go to the creek without a side arm after that, and the next Christmas we all got brand new thirty thirty rifles. To this day, all of my brothers but one denied this ever happened.

Always tell them to quit lying, and I remind them that they were running just as fast as I was. I never saw that thing again, and that's fine by me. We live right next to the Daniel Bou National Forest. My family enjoyed walking the forest trails. Being deep in the national forest is usually very peaceful, but things like bears and pigs can make it uncomfortable. The stories from the locals were taken with a grain of salt because

they loved to put one over on outsiders. And then the day comes when the forest around you becomes completely silent, no birds or bugs, or wind or even leaves making any noise. That depth of silence can become oppressive. In twenty twelve, my son was in the forest when everything went eerily silent. He was frozen in place, too afraid to move because he knew he was being watched. He finally ran to the visitor center and he mentioned the

experience to a state and federal employee. He has always been interested in cryptids, and he asked one of the guys if he thought it could have been bigfoot. To his surprise, they both nodded yes. One of the officials turned and walked away, while the other stood quietly for a moment, and when he replied, he spoke in soft tones. The government has no comment on such matters, he said, but there are things in that forest that we can explain. I've seen them. Everyone in our line of work has

seen them. But saying anything official could cost us our job. Well. That ended the conversation, and it led to a much more interesting revelation. On Thanksgiving that year, we were invited to a friend's home since we could not travel to be with our family. My friend lived several miles away on the south side of a beautiful valley which had

a mixture of small farms and homes. The view from the porch was wonderful, especially at sunset, and after we had eaten too much, the conversation wound its way to what my son had asked the folks at the National Forest after his standard you may think I'm crazy, but I believe, and this is what happened. Opening my son told his story, and when he finished, my friend smiled and he said, let me tell you what happened to me.

One night. He said that he and his wife were sitting on the front porch with a smoke and a cup of coffee. It wasn't quite full dark, but it was getting close. It was a beautiful night with just a hint of wind, and a chill was starting to set in. Across the valley. Up on the ridge toward the west, a pack of coat he started howling. They

were making all sorts of racket. A few minutes later, another pack started up directly across the valley, and after that it seemed like every dog in the valley started up too, answering or joining in, they really couldn't tell. He and his wife looked at each other as the mood of the peaceful valley turned uneasy, and then a third coyote pack joined in, only it sounded like they

were in panic. The mood was becoming uncomfortable, and they knew it was time to go inside, and as they stood up to go in, an unearthly scream came from the head of the valley. It was long and loud and deep. Every single coyote and dog in the area shut up immediately. One second they were barking and howling like crazy, and then it went dead silent. His wife headed for the door to get inside, but he stepped off the porch long enough to grab his gun from

his truck. Inside, he and his wife still felt uneasy. Even the cat was acting. This cat was usually completely independent and didn't need anybody, but that night she found his wife's lap and stayed in it. After a few minutes of complete silence, the normal night sound started up again, and the tension began to ease. But for the rest of the night, not a single dog or coyote made another sound. On a summer night back in nineteen seventy six, my brother Mike, Harold, and I decided to take a

long hike on Old William Penn Highway. Back then, it was a forest road with woods on both sides. We walked from Harold's apartment down a long hill all the way to Garden City, Monroeville Garden City was known in those days to be full of girls who went to the Gateway High School, and we wanted to meet up with some of them. On the way there, at the bottom of the long hill, we ran into an awful smell.

We thought it might be a dead animal. It was like scat mixed with rotten meat, and the smell made all of us uneasy, and I suggested that we run. We soon reached Garden City, about three miles further. We met up with the girls and forgot about all that. It was around near midnight and their mothers made them come home, so my brothers and I left and we

headed back down Old William Penn. About a half mile into the trip, we got that same uneasy feeling again, only this time it felt like we were being watched. We walked down this pitch black road with the forest on the slope above us. Twenty yards up the hill, we noticed the trees and the thick bushes had started to sway and part like something huge was walking through them as easily as we walked through air. It paralleled us for a mile or so before it took a

sharp turn toward us. That's when we panicked. We ran five hundred yards before we slowed down. I was on the high school track team, so I took off. Mike kept up with me, but Harold he was slow. We waited for him to catch up, and when he did, whatever was chasing us had caught up too, and it stayed with us for another half mile, and then it shot ahead of us, moving through the thick brush like it was nothing at all. At that point, we realized

we needed a plan. I was going to watch the left side of the road and ahead of us, and Mike was going to watch the right side, and Harold would watch the back. We proceeded like this for another mile. We were scared to death, and that's when Mike let out a blood curdling scream. I immediately started running again. This time I was alone. I ran another five hundred yards before I realized there was no one with me and I had to go back and get my brothers.

I ran and I was yelling and pleading with them to come with me, but there was no response. And when I got back to my brothers, I saw they were both in shock. I had to corral them up the hill, dragging and pushing the whole time, expecting to be killed at any moment. I finally got them to the car, but we were in such bad shape that we couldn't drive more than twenty miles an hour. Mike was crying, tears streamed down his face, and he said,

I saw it. It was right beside the road. It was waiting for us, crouching down on its haunches and hiding even on its knees. It was taller than me. I didn't know how to process this. Mike was six foot four inches tall. He said. It was covered in hair from its head to its toes, and it was only five feet away. It didn't seem to want to hurt us. It was just curious or maybe playing around with us. We've never gone hiking in those woods again at night. I never even go fishing without a fire

or more at least a pistol. I never want to be that frightened or helpless ever again. I live in Bozeman, Montana, and I have had two encounters with something strange. The first one was when I lived in Pony, Montana. It's a tiny town tucked into the mountains. In twenty twelve, my friend and I went to a hot spring that our good friend was a caretaker of the owners were a rich couple that were never there, especially in the

harsh winters. Well, being Montana girls, we were never afraid to grab some beard and throw the car in four wheel drive and sneak up to these hot springs, even in wiste deep snow. The pools were tucked into a ravine that was surrounded by steep mountains and large rocks. It really was a beautiful and peaceful place. There was a gate with a key that we had access to thanks to our friend. We probably abused our privileges, but

either way, we were having fun. Young single girls who would rather ask for forgiveness rather than ask for permission. We would often sit in the sauna above the pools. Had to start a fire in the stove and pour water over the rocks that sat on the top of it, and this created the heat. This was our little heaven and this must have been the hundred time we had been up there. Around eleven PM, we left the sauna and we jumped in the pool and we swam to

the far end and talked and drank our beer. And it wasn't long until both of us got an eerie feeling that we were being watched. We had felt that feeling before, but nothing like this. There was a mountain lion known to be in the area on previous visits to the property, we always assumed that that was what it was. This time, though, it was different. It was

almost gut wrenching. We heard a rock come crashing down from the mountain, hitting several times and then landing in the dirt outside of the pool, and then it rolled toward us. My friend asked me if I thought it was Bill, the caretaker, but I asked her how he could have gotten up there on the incline. Knowing Bill, he would have made his presence known to us. He would have come to say hi and bum some beer and cigarettes too. We sat there in silence, and the

hair on our neck started to stand up. There in that hot pool. I felt chills all over my body. It was almost painful. Every fiber of my being was telling me to go go as fast as we could. And when I turned to my friend, I saw her face was white as a sheet. Something doesn't want us here tonight. I think we should leave, I whispered. We swam to the other end of the pool and got our clothes and beer, and then half walked and half around the eight hundred feet down the main road to

our car. Even inside the car, we felt this empty, evil presence all around us. We drove a mile to the locked gate, and when my friend got out to open it, she was so scared she dropped the key in the snow. I got out of the car to help her, and I saw a pair of large tracks to the right of the gate. I didn't follow them to see how far they went up, but there were no other tire tracks in the snow other than from our friend's vehicle, and they were far enough from our

footprints to know that we hadn't made them. They were far too big to be from our boots. I locked the gate and I told my friend to get the hell out of there. We stayed up all night talking about it. It was unexplainable. The feeling was something neither of us had ever felt before. Ten years later and I was married and I had three beautiful children. My husband and our farmers and bozemen a long time, and

date nights are few and far between. One night during the winter we were able to have a kid free night. We decided to go out for dinner and then drive up to the lake for a little adventure. We knew the roads would be sketchy with the snow and the windy road up to the lake that is surrounded by a forest. His truck barely made it in that deep snow, but we parked by the lake and we sat on the tailgate facing the mountains. We were the only car

up there, and no one came in behind us. That was clear because there were no other tracks in the snow besides the one we left. It was snowing and pretty warm that night, so we bundled up and grabbed our drinks and we talked on the tailgate. Right as I was about to tell my husband that I was getting cold, that feeling of dread and terror came over me again. I was quickly reminded of mine my friend's creepy experience that night when we were younger. What is it?

Asked my husband. Right there, the rock flew out of the darkness and it hit the ground three feet in front of us, and it rolled to the rear tire. The look on my husband's face told me that he had the same gut wrenching feeling as I did. We got back in the pickup truck, and my husband asked what the hell was that. He said that right before the rock had hit the ground, he got an icky, sick feeling. I told him that I did too, and he turned the truck around and shined the lights toward

the trees where the rock came from. There was not a soul, not a car, or anything to be seen on the way down the mountain. I told my husband about my friend and our experience in the Hot Springs all those years ago. Well, we decided to tell my father, and that's when he told us about your podcast. Even though I did not see anything, I can relate to many others in their stories. Deep down, I have always thought it was something like Bigfoot from fear of being

deemed a crackpot. Though I never let myself truly believe, and certainly never told anyone, I think it's safe to say that I believe now