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As a child, I felt there
was something very special about the nights of

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the full moon. For two days
before and two days after the night of

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peak fullness, the natural world is
aglow with the blue silver illumination that is

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fascinated mankind for thousands of years in
the days when superstition ruled the mind of

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man. Our ancestors assign great powers
to this otherworldly light and the unfailing cycle

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of the blue white orb which produced
it. Because we have a weakness not

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shared by the predators of the night, we naturally fear the things that come

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out to hunt in the darkness.
Human beings have eyesight that evolved for daylight

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activity, not foreseeing the details hidden
in the shadows of a forest after the

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sun goes down. Therefore, we
have an innate fear of the darkness and

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the beasts that inhabit it. There
are those among us who seem to lack

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this fear, at least they give
the appearance of not being afraid. Those

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are individuals who will have the opportunity
to see what I have seen. Only

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recently have I developed a deeply felt
well. I started to say, respect,

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Let's call it what it is.
It's fear. That's right. I

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now fear the things that I know
to be out there in the dark.

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We've all heard the stories of were
wolves and their remarkable abilities and characteristics,

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at least the ones that Hollywood has
bestowed upon these terrifying creatures of legend.

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I will now tell you about my
experiences with the things in the dark.

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These are my only encounters with what
I believe to be one of these nocturnal

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beasts. I pray they are my
last encounters. It was early spring,

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and the nights on Lookout Mountain in
Alabama were cool enough to be uncomfortable without

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a jacket. It was a kind
of night that you can see your breath

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as you exhale. I owned a
four wheeler, and I frequently rode the

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south ridge of Lookout Mountain. I
especially enjoyed riding trails in the thousands of

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acres of woods near my home on
the nights of the full moon. The

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silver light shining through the trees on
the narrow, winding roads and trails is

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usually bright enough that headlights are optional
at low speeds. Riding by moonlight had

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always been a special experience, and
I looked forward to it. But the

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events of two separate nights. This
year would change that forever. It was

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a Friday night and I had worked
later than usual, which caused me to

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miss connecting with my riding buddies as
was the usual routine. This was before

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cell phones were common and very few
of my friends had one, plus where

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we rode, a signal was hard
to find on a good day. I

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had called, but had reached no
one, so I would have to catch

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up with them on the trail.
It was well after dark and the moon

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was high in the night sky.
I grabbed my cooler and shoved off,

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hoping to link up with my friends
and have some fun. After a short

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ride on the paved road, I
climbed a steep bank off the road to

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access the trail where I expected to
find everyone. Fifteen minutes of bouncing over

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rocks and roots found me past the
roughest part of the trail, and I

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was now slowly rolling along on a
smooth, sandy road without my headlights when

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something roughly the size of a coyote
dashed quickly across the road in front of

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me, moving left to right.
It was no more than a flash in

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a tangle of shadows. I hit
the brakes and I shut off the engine

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so I could listen for whatever it
was as it continued its flight through the

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undergrowth. The natural predators in these
parts are not generally large enough to be

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a threat to humans, so I
was not alarmed. There are black bears

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and mountain lions here, but we
see them so rarely that no one worries

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about them. I sat silently on
my four wheeler, listening, looking,

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and hoping to hear or see if
whatever had dashed across the road was being

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followed by another similar creature, or
possibly being chased. After a minute of

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silent vigil, I stepped off my
ATV, thinking whatever it was was long

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gone. I opened my cooler and
I took out my first beer for the

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evening. I popped the top and
took a long drink. Coffee would have

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been a more practical choice on the
cool spring night, but the beer tasted

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good. That night, the whipperwheels
were out early this year, and the

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night air was filled with their unmistakable
calls. These woods at night are such

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a sensual place. Your pupils dilate
to take in the maximum amount of light.

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Your hearing seems to become more acute. Even your sense of smell now

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picks up things that ordinarily it would
not. One's mind could quite easily run

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away with itself on a night like
this. To my left, some distance

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off the road, I could hear
movement in the thickly matted leafy ground cover

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of this dense hardwood forest. I
first assumed it was a raccoon or a

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possum rooting for grubs in the foot
deep leaf cover. After only seconds of

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listening, I could make out distinct
footsteps. They were the same noises a

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man would make while walking through the
leaves. It certainly was not a possum.

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The spot where I had stopped was
sheltered. On each side, short

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needle pines spaced close together obscured my
view on both sides of the road.

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The fifteen foot stretch of pines,
almost like a tunnel, shaded the road

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from the moonlight. I listened as
the footsteps came closer. It had to

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be a hunter, so I made
some noise to alert him to my position.

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I didn't want to be mistaken for
game, and I spoke up,

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don't shoot, partner, I'm standing
right on the road in front of you.

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The footsteps stopped abruptly, followed by
several seconds of silence, during which

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I expected to hear a man's voice
reply telling me that he wasn't going to

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shoot me. That never happened.
I spoke up again to confirm my presence,

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and still I got no reply.
I knew someone was there, but

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for whatever reason, they refused to
respond. My concern was growing. It's

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not unheard of that marijuana growers will
guard their grow in this area. The

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month of April is a bit early
in the growing season for this to have

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been likely, but I wondered if
I was about to meet one of these

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guys. I heard a twig snap
to my left. I began talking to

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reassure whoever it was that I meant
them no harm, and I walked slowly

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towards the twig snap. I came
to the end of the short needle pine

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thicket, where the moonlight was bright
and I could see better into the woods.

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I heard it breathing, and when
I looked in that direction, I

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saw the steamy exhaust. When it
exhaled, it was panting fifty feet in

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front of me. A dark form
of an animal crouched. It was motionless

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and in front of me, and
the steam from its exhales was rising above

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its head. I froze. My
eyes began to adjust to the moonlight now

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illuminating the woods. Two pointed,
fur covered ears were visible. Its head

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turned ninety degrees, and the silhouette
of a large canine muzzle became apparent.

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The ears moved in a manner of
a horse as it seemed to scan the

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immediate area for sounds. I'll never
forget those ears. The steam from its

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breathing, illuminated by the bright moonlight, rushed from its snout and drifted upward.

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My legs suddenly felt weak. The
beer can slipped from my hand and

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hit flatly on the sandstone road with
a clank, causing it to shoot a

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stream of foam into the air,
which lapped over into the woods in the

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direction of this thing. The bea
to an upright position on two legs,

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revealing its height. It was bigger
than me, much bigger. It was

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staring straight at me. It paused
long enough to issue a deep growl and

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calmly strode away into the woods with
the same rhythmic leaf crunching footsteps I had

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heard moments earlier. I was terrified. Tears poured from my eyes. I

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ran for the four wheeler, jumped
aboard, and hit the starter. In

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a flurry of lightning fast moves,
I rode away at full throttle, like

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the devil was chasing me. I
don't remember driving home, but I know

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I covered that eight miles in record
time. When I slid to a stop

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in my driveway, I jumped off
the four wheeler and ran into the house,

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locking all the doors and windows.
Never had I felt the way I

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felt that night. I didn't sleep
at all. Rather, I sat in

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my living room with my shotgun in
my lap until dawn. I contemplated calling

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the county Sheriff's office to report what
I had seen, but I knew that

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I would sound like a nutcase.
I picked up the phone several times,

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but I never made the call.
Over the following days, my mind replayed

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the events of that night over and
over, each time with the unsettling conclusion

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that I had seen what had to
be a werewolf. Either I had seen

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one or I was delusional. I
had always been the guy that made fun

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of people who said they saw werewolves
and ghosts. I never believed that stuff.

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If what I saw was a werewolf, why didn't it attack me.

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It had every opportunity to make a
meal of me, or to slaughter me

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for the fun of it. I
can't imagine that it was some trickster that

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took me in. Looked and sounded
way too real. Besides, most trail

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riders are armed, and a joke
like this could get a prankster shot.

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What I saw was a large,
fur covered animal that walked primarily on two

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legs. It had very long arms
in the head of a canine. Having

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considered this incident time and time again, I know what I saw and will

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always believe that it was a werewolf. I'm now an undoubting believer in the

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existence of werewolves, and that fact
would be confirmed a few months later.

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By September, I had changed my
riding habits. I didn't ride at night.

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One Saturday night when my friend Larry
called to tell me that he was

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in the woods and his ATV had
quit on him. To my dread,

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he was close to the location where
I had seen this creature. I almost

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made an excuse to get me off
the hook, but this particular friend had

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pulled me out of bad spots before
with no hesitation, and I felt obligated

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to be there for him. I
told him that I could be there in

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an hour. I was apprehensive about
going back at night. I had not

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told my writing buddies about what I
had seen because I knew they would rib

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me until the day I died.
They had noticed that I spent a lot

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of less time in the woods than
I normally did, and had asked why

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I didn't ride at night now.
Rather than fess up to my unbelievable encounter,

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I made lame excuses, jokingly allowing
the conversation to move on. I

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wanted to tell someone what I had
seen, but I didn't feel that they

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would take me serious, so I
kept it to myself. I got dressed

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in warm clothing and strapped on my
forty caliber and stuff too magazines in my

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pocket. The equipment I needed to
retrieve a disabled four wheeler was sitting at

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the ready in a watertight box in
my garage. I strapped the box on

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the back of my four wheeler and
made ready to head for the eight mile

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long trail that would take me to
my friend's location. I could not believe

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I was really going back there,
but I couldn't leave him stranded, and

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he didn't know what I knew.
The moon was bright again, and clouds

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moved silently across the sky, dragging
their dark shadows over the mountainous terrain and

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adding a creepy element of mystery that
began to play on my mind. The

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closer I got to the area where
I had seen it, the more apprehensive

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I became. I stopped long enough
to chamber around in my pistol, and

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I put it back into my holster. Before I continued, I topped a

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rise in the road and I caught
a glimpse of a fire ahead. Larry

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had started a fire. Somehow that
fact gave me a measure of comfort.

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As I approached the fire, it
occurred to me that if I could see

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it from a distance, other eyes
could also see it. That removed the

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comfort factor. I could see more
than one person standing there. Larry had

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not mentioned that there was someone with
him. Maybe some help had already arrived.

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The more the better, as I
saw it. I rolled down the

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rough, narrow road and stopped about
ten feet from the fire. I shut

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off the engine and remained seated on
my four wheeler. Susan, Larry's girlfriend,

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rushed over and threw her arms around
me, greeting me as their hero

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and rescuer. She was relieved that
I had arrived, to say the least.

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I moved near the fire, warming
my hands and asking what the problem

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was. Larry indicated that the chain
had broken and he didn't have a replacement

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or any of his tools. I
didn't see his four wheeler anywhere, and

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I asked about that. He grinned
and said that that was the other thing.

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He had not set the brakes while
working on the chain, and it

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had rolled off the road into a
steep ravine. We walked over to the

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spot where it left the road and
he pointed down into the darkness and said,

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it's down there. My flashlight is
bright, but it only dimly illuminated.

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The machine lodged against a tree halfway
down the slope. It was a

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job for a wench or a bunch
of strong men. Realistically, the two

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of us could not extract this ATV
from its precarious resting place. I expressed

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this to Larry, and he was
not happy about the prospect of leaving a

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rather expensive machine in the woods overnight. I assured him that no one would

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notice it that far off the road
and it would be safe until the next

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day. We were going to need
a winch attached to a truck to get

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this thing up the hill. Susan
was standing by the fire. As we

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walked back towards her. Suddenly there
was a horribly loud howl coming from the

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ridge above us. My heart began
to race. Susan rushed Larry and clung

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to him as though the devil himself
had walked by. Larry's expression was that

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of unwonted surprise and fear. The
sound came from a big animal, and

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it was too close. We gathered
around the fire and we listened, Not

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wishing to frighten Susan. I jokingly
urged our hasty departure while I was experiencing

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flashbacks of my first encounter. My
hand rested on my pistol. Larry sensed

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that I was only half joking and
agreed with the suggestion of a prompt exit

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from the area. Actually, he
looked more puzzled than frightened. I was

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keeping an eye on the woods around
us. Again. I suggested that we

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leave immediately. Susan agreed with my
assessment of the situation and became insistent that

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Larry speed up the process by leaving
their cooler and other gear. To our

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right was a thicket of dense growth, from which, during a moment of

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silence, came the sound of footsteps. I pulled my pistol and started telling

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them the abbreviated version of the story
of what I had seen very near this

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place just months earlier. Susan was
almost in tears and begging to leave immediately.

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I completely agreed with her. I
just wasn't as dramatic about it.

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We stacked one behind the other on
my four wheeler, with Larry upfront driving.

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I took the rear position, thinking
that it would offer the best position

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to shine a light behind us and
allow me to shoot anything in pursuit if

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it became necessary. The box trapped
on the back made things a little cramp,

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but oddly gave a measure of comfort
as my back pressed against it.

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We began to move away from the
fire, and I was constantly twisting and

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turning to maintain vigilance of the area. Still dimly lighted by the fire,

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I swung my flashlight back and forth
to illuminate anything that might be approaching.

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We quickly moved up the rough slope
from the fire in the direction of home.

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As we approached a rock outcrop that
spanned the road. Larry gave it

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some throttle to increase the engine power
to get us over the rock. Suddenly,

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the engine went dead and we rolled
back a short distance and we stopped.

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Larry had forgotten to open the gas
pitcock, which I had closed out

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of habit. He quickly opened it
and restarted the engine. As I look

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back towards the fire, I could
see a large figure moving about in its

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00:19:07,720 --> 00:19:12,359
dim yellow orange light. We moved
forward, and as we topped the slope,

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I grabbed Larry's arm and got him
to stop. We were about fifty

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00:19:17,920 --> 00:19:21,880
yards from the fire, and at
our position on the high ground we could

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00:19:21,920 --> 00:19:27,559
see the creature clearly. The three
of us stared in disbelief as the upright,

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00:19:27,680 --> 00:19:33,400
hair covered manlike creature leaned its head
back and let out another bone chilling

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howl. I could see the same
fur covered ears and the wolf likes now

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00:19:40,319 --> 00:19:45,319
that had haunted my dreams since April. The howls subsided, and we saw

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the beasts look in our direction,
and it began to move towards us.

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Larry gunned the engine. Our retreat
was like a blur. I remember slowing

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00:19:56,839 --> 00:20:03,680
down only once about two miles away
from our starting point. Larry shouted and

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00:20:03,759 --> 00:20:07,039
asked if I could see anything behind
us, while Susan pounded on his back,

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insisting that he speed up. I
wasn't seeing anything, and I assured

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00:20:12,279 --> 00:20:17,000
them that we were safe and that
it would be advisable to slow down and

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proceed with caution. I wanted us
out of those woods in one piece.

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00:20:22,319 --> 00:20:26,839
An accident would have been a big
problem. We arrived at my house and

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00:20:26,920 --> 00:20:33,200
a spirited discussion began. As soon
as Larry shut off the engine. We

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hurried inside to warm up and sort
out the facts. Larry and Susan had

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questions. I had no believable answers. I explained the details of my previous

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encounter, and our conclusion was that
there was a werewolf in the woods near

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00:20:49,839 --> 00:20:55,720
our homes. If it wasn't a
werewolf, I don't know what to call

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00:20:55,759 --> 00:21:02,440
this thing. Susan assured us that
she would never try ride again. Larry

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00:21:02,519 --> 00:21:07,079
retrieved his ATV the next day while
accompanied by five other well armed men,

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and immediately put it up for sale. I still own my ATV, but

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rarely use it, and only in
the daylight. In all the years I

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00:21:18,960 --> 00:21:22,559
have been riding trails, I have
never seen, or for that matter,

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00:21:22,720 --> 00:21:26,920
heard of, such an animal.
I don't know if I'm glad I saw

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00:21:26,960 --> 00:21:30,799
it, or if I would prefer
to have remained blissfully ignorant of its presence.

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00:21:33,039 --> 00:21:37,920
I do know my feelings about outdoor
activities have changed. I know I'll

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00:21:37,960 --> 00:21:42,640
never camp out on that mountain again. I know I'll never walk in the

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00:21:42,640 --> 00:21:48,119
woods unarmed again. The thought of
that thing is always with me now.

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00:21:49,240 --> 00:21:53,359
I'm like a five year old when
the sun goes down. I even get

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00:21:53,359 --> 00:22:00,519
the creeps when a window shade is
open after dark. I often wonder if

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00:22:00,559 --> 00:22:03,359
others have seen it. I've heard
nothing about it. If they have,

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00:22:04,519 --> 00:22:08,200
then again they may be doing what
I did, keeping their mouth shut for

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00:22:08,279 --> 00:22:14,480
fear of ridicule. I feel that
I should warn anyone going into the woods

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00:22:14,480 --> 00:22:18,119
of what I saw. But I've
only told a few people, and they're

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00:22:18,160 --> 00:22:22,680
still making fun of me. I
shouldn't care if they laugh. I should

253
00:22:22,720 --> 00:22:26,400
tell everyone, because I'm going to
feel responsible if someone is hurt or killed

254
00:22:26,440 --> 00:22:33,319
by this thing. The thought of
organizing a hunt to eliminate this terrifying threat

255
00:22:33,440 --> 00:22:38,720
has crossed my mind, but I'm
not that brave. An undeniable truth that

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00:22:38,759 --> 00:22:44,680
can be drawn from this story is
just because you've never seen it doesn't mean

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00:22:44,960 --> 00:22:49,920
that it doesn't exist. Stay out
of the woods after sunset. It's very

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00:22:51,039 --> 00:22:56,400
unlikely that there's only one of these
things. It most likely has relatives.

259
00:23:00,440 --> 00:23:03,880
As long as I can remember,
I've been a hunting fanatic. I've spent

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00:23:04,000 --> 00:23:08,240
many days in the field with my
buddies in pursuit of the wild and wooly

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00:23:08,440 --> 00:23:14,359
beasts, mostly deer and elk,
can occasionally bear. In the rocky mountains

262
00:23:14,359 --> 00:23:18,880
of Utah, Wyoming, Idaho,
and Montana, my friends and I would

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00:23:18,880 --> 00:23:23,160
spend many fall nights and we would
sit around a crackling fire in the high

264
00:23:23,279 --> 00:23:30,240
valleys of the mountains, weaving tales
of hunts gone by. Each story told

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00:23:30,359 --> 00:23:34,359
would seem to top the one previously
recited. Some were new adventures, while

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00:23:34,400 --> 00:23:41,000
others were old ones revisited every year, but with new, slightly enhanced details.

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00:23:41,319 --> 00:23:47,079
As the night passed and the stories
progressed, they inevitably morphed into tales

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of mysterious and unknown, like ghosts, goblins, and bigfoot. None of

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00:23:52,359 --> 00:23:56,559
us had actually seen a ghost,
a goblin, or a bigfoot. In

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00:23:56,599 --> 00:24:00,920
fact, none of us had ever
even heard of anyone in countering any of

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00:24:00,960 --> 00:24:06,240
them, especially a Bigfoot anywhere near
the areas where we hunted. But for

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00:24:06,319 --> 00:24:10,799
some unknown reason, each of us
had experienced strange happenings that we were sure

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00:24:10,920 --> 00:24:15,000
could be directly attributed to Bigfoot.
I don't know how we knew they were

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connected to Bigfoot. Nevertheless, we
were darn sure, convincingly so when telling

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00:24:21,880 --> 00:24:26,200
our tales of intrigue that Bigfoot was
the culprit. I guess one could say

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00:24:26,200 --> 00:24:32,200
that we were embellishing the truth slightly, maybe even a little more than slightly.

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00:24:32,920 --> 00:24:36,319
But it was all in fun,
and everyone had a great time trying

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00:24:36,359 --> 00:24:42,240
to outdo everyone else. Due to
the convincing manner by which some could relate

279
00:24:42,279 --> 00:24:48,599
their stories, the lines between truth
and fiction often blurred in the minds of

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00:24:48,640 --> 00:24:53,720
the recipients, making it difficult to
decipher between the two. This resulted in

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doubt and sometimes confusion in each of
our minds about what really lurked in the

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00:25:00,400 --> 00:25:06,200
shadows of the forests. We hunted
one particular warm autumn day, when the

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00:25:06,240 --> 00:25:10,920
air was clean, fresh and filled
with the fragrance of sage, and the

284
00:25:10,960 --> 00:25:15,039
sky was clear blue, and the
golden aspen leaves shimmered as a slight breeze

285
00:25:15,039 --> 00:25:19,839
blue and rattled them around. I
leaned against the stout but thin, chalky

286
00:25:19,880 --> 00:25:26,720
white aspen tree trunk, intently scanning
the grove for movement, hoping to spot

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00:25:26,759 --> 00:25:30,799
a sly old moss back buck,
as my hunting buddies pushed from the opposite

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00:25:30,839 --> 00:25:37,200
direction. Just when boredom and daydreams
started to creep into my mind, Larry,

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00:25:37,359 --> 00:25:41,119
my hunting buddy, came thundering down
the hill from right to left.

290
00:25:41,680 --> 00:25:47,200
His pants were partially down, one
hand holding them up and the other hanging

291
00:25:47,279 --> 00:25:52,119
onto a roll of toilet paper that
unraveled as he passed, trailing behind an

292
00:25:52,119 --> 00:25:59,079
apparent white flag of surrender. Si
squatch, he screamed. Larry was the

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00:25:59,160 --> 00:26:03,960
kind of young that fancied himself a
tall, tough cigar smoking beer, drinking

294
00:26:03,039 --> 00:26:07,759
four by four driving lumberjack of a
man that could fell a tree with one

295
00:26:07,799 --> 00:26:11,720
swing of his axe. I started
to laugh at the sight of such a

296
00:26:11,759 --> 00:26:17,400
man, nearly streaking past as he
half mooned a mother nature, while I

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00:26:17,519 --> 00:26:22,400
wondered what had rattled him At that
exact moment. However, a heart stopping

298
00:26:22,559 --> 00:26:27,759
roar erupted from just over the ridge
top twenty yards to my right and slightly

299
00:26:27,839 --> 00:26:33,839
behind me. I jolted to attention, darn near snapping my neck while trying

300
00:26:33,880 --> 00:26:38,400
to orient my head to see what
could have made the startling noise, all

301
00:26:38,519 --> 00:26:44,599
the while trying not to move my
body and reveal my stealthy position. In

302
00:26:44,720 --> 00:26:48,519
hindsight, I suppose Larry, having
just blown by me with all the stealth

303
00:26:48,680 --> 00:26:53,160
of a fire truck on its way
to a fore alarm fire, probably negated

304
00:26:53,200 --> 00:26:59,039
that need. That roar was nothing
like anything I'd heard in the forest before,

305
00:26:59,240 --> 00:27:03,119
and it scared the crap out of
me. The top of a young

306
00:27:03,279 --> 00:27:07,359
aspen tree about seven feet tall,
rooted just on the other side of the

307
00:27:07,480 --> 00:27:11,240
ridge, top shook like it had
been hit by a truck. A deep

308
00:27:11,359 --> 00:27:18,440
moan followed in a second roar or
agonizing growl erupted. Holy smokes, what

309
00:27:18,480 --> 00:27:22,240
the heck is that? I thought, as I turned to face the unidentified

310
00:27:22,359 --> 00:27:27,359
creature. Another sapling, a six
or seven foot or just over the ridge

311
00:27:27,400 --> 00:27:32,200
for me, rocked and fell like
it had been run over by a bulldozer.

312
00:27:33,000 --> 00:27:37,039
Whatever the heck this thing was,
it was big and powerful, and

313
00:27:37,079 --> 00:27:41,039
from the sound of it, it
was upset. My mind raced, trying

314
00:27:41,039 --> 00:27:48,440
to categorize the sound into something familiar, but nothing fit. Needless to say,

315
00:27:48,599 --> 00:27:52,279
by this time, I was more
than a little concerned for my safety,

316
00:27:52,759 --> 00:27:57,359
as my only defense was a fifty
pound recurved bow, not ideal for

317
00:27:57,440 --> 00:28:03,920
toe to toe in your face confrontation
with what was Larry screaming? A sisquatch?

318
00:28:04,039 --> 00:28:07,559
But there weren't any sasquatch in this
area of the country, I reasoned,

319
00:28:07,960 --> 00:28:14,119
was sasquatch even real? By this
time, the unidentified creature had just

320
00:28:14,240 --> 00:28:18,480
crested the top of the ridge twenty
yards from me, but I still could

321
00:28:18,480 --> 00:28:22,720
not see it through the younger tree
growth. Do I run or stand my

322
00:28:22,799 --> 00:28:27,240
ground? I asked myself. My
curiosity wrestled with my common sense, and

323
00:28:27,279 --> 00:28:33,039
I couldn't quite decide until I knew
what was confronting me. I crouched and

324
00:28:33,200 --> 00:28:37,960
stretched, peering and peeking through the
trees, just catching glimpses, trying to

325
00:28:37,000 --> 00:28:41,319
get a better look at what was
coming at me. A moan and a

326
00:28:41,359 --> 00:28:48,160
growl and a roar in sequence.
One part of me screamed run, The

327
00:28:48,200 --> 00:28:52,599
other part said, find out what
this is and then run. Another tree

328
00:28:52,640 --> 00:28:56,640
bent over and then snapped back into
place. It was like in all the

329
00:28:56,680 --> 00:29:02,839
stories you hear around the campfire aint. It looked huge, It was black,

330
00:29:03,039 --> 00:29:06,880
It was covered in fur, and
on all fours. There was still

331
00:29:06,960 --> 00:29:11,480
not enough visible yet to make any
kind of identification. By this time,

332
00:29:11,599 --> 00:29:17,200
I had no time to run this
thing, This big, black, hairy

333
00:29:17,279 --> 00:29:21,960
thing was almost on top of me. I had dilly dally too long,

334
00:29:22,039 --> 00:29:23,960
and all I could do was thump
it with an arrow. As soon as

335
00:29:25,000 --> 00:29:32,200
I could get confirmation of identification and
a clear shot corridor, I drew my

336
00:29:32,279 --> 00:29:34,599
bow and I took a deep breath, and I let it out halfway.

337
00:29:36,480 --> 00:29:40,559
Tunnel vision was in full effect,
and I could only see what I was

338
00:29:40,599 --> 00:29:45,519
looking directly at in front of me. A circus elephant could have walked right

339
00:29:45,599 --> 00:29:48,920
up beside me and even sat on
me. I wouldn't have noticed it until

340
00:29:48,960 --> 00:29:53,720
I was as flat as a pancake. Sweat was rolling down my brow and

341
00:29:53,799 --> 00:29:59,119
stinging my eyes. My arms were
shaking with fatigue. With my bow at

342
00:29:59,160 --> 00:30:04,039
full draw, the seconds turned into
hours. I needed to release my draw,

343
00:30:04,400 --> 00:30:07,799
rest my arm for a moment and
wipe the sweat from my eyes,

344
00:30:08,319 --> 00:30:14,160
and quickly I did so, and
just as I again drew my bow,

345
00:30:14,200 --> 00:30:18,920
the creature emerged through the thick underbrush
into full view. I expected to see

346
00:30:18,960 --> 00:30:25,640
a siequatch, and for just a
second I did, but my mind was

347
00:30:25,680 --> 00:30:30,480
playing tricks on me. It was
not a sasquatch or a bear. It

348
00:30:30,559 --> 00:30:36,359
was a huge, one thousand pound
bull, as in bovine bull. I

349
00:30:36,440 --> 00:30:40,079
released the tension on my bow slowly, and I took a deep breath.

350
00:30:41,440 --> 00:30:47,039
The bull walked painfully past me,
moaning and groaning and growling as he took

351
00:30:47,079 --> 00:30:52,279
each step. His wide horns would
push saplings down as he passed by,

352
00:30:52,400 --> 00:30:56,559
and they would either break off or
snap back into place. I looked for

353
00:30:56,640 --> 00:31:00,400
the source of his pain, and
I quickly discovered its call. The bulls

354
00:31:00,519 --> 00:31:07,640
testicles were inflamed and swollen to the
size of a small watermelon. Every time

355
00:31:07,720 --> 00:31:11,319
he took a step forward, his
rear leg would contact the inflamed portion of

356
00:31:11,359 --> 00:31:18,319
his male anatomy and make him grown
and roar with pain. The roar he

357
00:31:18,400 --> 00:31:21,880
made did not in any way sound
like a bovine, at least none that

358
00:31:21,960 --> 00:31:26,279
I had ever heard. Of course, I was no expert on the sounds

359
00:31:26,519 --> 00:31:32,279
such an animal made when in extreme
pain. He was such a massive bull

360
00:31:32,359 --> 00:31:36,039
that he had a very deep,
raspy, grown and roar that sounded like

361
00:31:36,119 --> 00:31:40,359
nothing else I had ever heard.
His hair was long, shaggy, and

362
00:31:40,440 --> 00:31:45,799
tangled with sticks and tree leaves and
mud. He looked old and fatigued and

363
00:31:45,960 --> 00:31:51,759
almost lost. He could have been
blind. I was relieved it wasn't a

364
00:31:51,799 --> 00:31:56,519
sasquatch and that I wasn't going to
be torn limb from limb. I began

365
00:31:56,599 --> 00:32:00,480
to laugh and almost cry at the
same time. When I emerged from the

366
00:32:00,519 --> 00:32:06,160
tree line, I met a rancher
in an old Rundown GMC pickup truck making

367
00:32:06,200 --> 00:32:08,960
his way up the dusty dirt road. He was looking for his bull.

368
00:32:09,440 --> 00:32:13,599
He had not seen it for a
while and was concerned that it had been

369
00:32:13,640 --> 00:32:17,599
taken by predators or had died of
old age. I told him if he

370
00:32:17,759 --> 00:32:22,160
just waited a few minutes right where
we were, and if it didn't deviate

371
00:32:22,200 --> 00:32:29,279
from its downhill course, they would
be reunited. Shortly. The rancher was

372
00:32:29,359 --> 00:32:34,880
relieved to hear his bull was still
alive and close. He used the CBE

373
00:32:34,960 --> 00:32:38,240
radio to call his sons in another
truck to come and get the distressed animal.

374
00:32:39,000 --> 00:32:44,319
That night, back at camp,
Larry took a brutal onslaught of jeers

375
00:32:44,319 --> 00:32:49,359
and laughters as I recited the encounter. This ended up being one of those

376
00:32:49,359 --> 00:32:53,319
stories told around the campfire every year. Larry didn't laugh about it the first

377
00:32:53,359 --> 00:32:58,839
few years, but eventually he found
the humor in it and laughed right along

378
00:32:58,880 --> 00:33:07,079
with the rest of us up the
Sasquatch that wasn't m