Okay, I got this email recently. This is one of those emails.
It's really kind of profound. I didn't know whether to believe this or not,
and it really doesn't matter. I'd probably do the story anyway. But
I kind of had a back and forth with this writer, and I'm almost
convinced he's being very honest. He's not showing any signs at least in an
email exchange that lets me know he's making this up. He's not sensationalizing anything,
and he seems very honest when he responds to me and in his story.
So I'm going to read this story, and I think this is going
to blow your doors off. It's really good and it's really scary. Here's
what he wrote to me. My brothers loved hunting fish. They have thousands
of dollars invested in gear. When hunting season is out, they're fishing.
I like fishing, but not to the degree that they do. Now.
I don't hunt. I have never enjoyed killing animals. I have nothing against
hunting at all. It's a great way for people to enjoy the outdoors,
gather clean meat, manage wildlife populations. But it's just not for me.
My brothers make fun of me for this. That's okay, Well I do
mind, I guess, but I don't let them know it. It's not
that I don't like being in nature. My thing is hiking, and if
any one of them would take a minute to notice, they'd all see that
I hike a lot deeper into the woods than any of them ever hunted.
I don't carry weapons. I only carry bear spray. I know the truth,
though, I know that I go farther and harder than any of them
just to take long walks and woods. In their minds, the fact that
they kill animals with weapons, they're more macho than I am. But I
know for a fact that none of them could keep up with me for even
a half day hike. I can outperform any of them, but I never
say a word. Hiking is my favorite thing to do in my favorite places
in the woods alone, just me and the trails and the animals and the
fresh air. In my endurance, I come alive out there, or I
did until last month. Now I don't care if I ever go into the
woods again. There are monsters in the woods, folks, I have seen
them. Fall is a busy hiking season. Everyone wants to see the trees
in full color. And if you're serious about hiking like I am or was,
it means you have to go pretty deep in the woods to get away
from the day hikers. Otherwise you're just going to be tripping over the amateurs
and not seeing anything because they're always so noisy that they chase animals away.
And if you want to really enjoy the scenery and all that nature has to
offer, then you'd better get there early, and I mean a day or
two early, and plan on hiking in with your camping gear and enough supplies
to stay a couple of days. I park my car at the trailhead early
on Wednesday. I figured I'd hike up for two days and then hike back
down for two days and be home in my own bed by Sunday night and
ready for work on Monday. Always check the weather before I leave, and
then I do a gear check. Now I'm an ultra light hiker with a
hammock and a light down sleeping bag, a microstove in just enough calories that
I need to go as far as I like to go. I carry a
change of clothes, a compass, a first aid kit, and a knife.
The less I carry, the lighter my backpack is, which means I
can go Farthers who were in shape and condition like me can run out of
steam pretty fast with an extra heavy pack. I've seen them leave the trail
many times just because their packs are too heavy, and a man learns to
get by with a little. And the goal is not the gear, it's
the trail. This is something my brothers will never understand, their gear freaks.
I had picked a difficult trail to hike because I knew there weren't a
lot of day hikers. It's only well maintained for the first couple of miles,
and after that you have to know what you're doing to go any further.
I was headed all the way to the top of this mountain, so
I checked my watch and I stepped onto the trail. It was seven forty
three am at noon. I stopped for a break and to take in the
view of the valley below me. The trees had been busy this year.
It was already a blaze of reds and golds, with bright splotches of yellow
and dark patches of brown. There's something about sitting up there looking down on
the world. A lot of people say it's humbling, but not for me.
For me, it's empowering. By the time I set up camp the
first night, civilization felt like another planet away. I picked a small clearing
that gave me a decent but limited view of the night sky. The weather
man assured me that I would have clear sailing, and he was right.
If you've ever seen the sky without light pollution, you've never really seen the
sky. I went ahead and ate a couple of power bars and drank some
water, and I climbed into my hammock. Now, nothing wears a body
out like a long walk. I figured I'd be asleep within minutes, and
I probably would have, but for one thing. It was too quiet.
And when you go as far as this, there's also the absence of sound
pollution. You can't hear cars and diesels rolling down the interstate. You can't
hear radios blasting music, or peace people chattering or kids playing because it's just
you out there. But even then there is always some sort of noise.
There's insects and small critters and coyotes. I was lying there in my hammock
that night, I didn't hear any of that. It was so weird.
That it made me a bit nervous to make matters worse, and maybe because
of that, I started feeling like I was being watched, and I didn't
sleep well that night. The next morning, I discovered that the weather man
had lied to me. The brilliant blue sky I had hiked under the day
before was turning gray, so I had to make a decision. I could
continue my hike up on the mountain, or I could turn around and head
back down. The third option was to stay where I was and then head
down the next day. I hadn't slept well the night before, and I
had a lot to do with my decision. I didn't feel like going anywhere.
I felt like sleeping a few more hours Soption III it was. I
made some coffee and I ate a power bar before climbing back into my hammock.
I lay there and brought daylight, still conscious of the fact that there
were no normal sounds of nature around me. But by now the sky was
dark enough and the clouds overhead were full enough that I figured it was the
rain coming in that had kept them silent. After a while, I decided
that I wasn't going to sleep, and the sky was looking bad. Enough
that I should try to get as far down the mountain as I could before
the clouds burst open and drenched me. It was around noon when I started
back down the mountain, but the sky was as dark as dusk. To
be safe, I had already pulled out my headlamp from my backpack and I
was wearing it. Then the rain came. It didn't start with a sprinkle,
then a few heavy drops, and then a solid sheet of rain.
It came down all at once, as if God had dumped a bucket of
winter water on me. Usually when it rains that hard, it doesn't last
for long, but I must have walked for an hour in that downpour.
It wasn't long before I began to feel like my bone marrow was saturated,
my eyes burned from constantly wiping them, and the damn headlight began to short
out the sound of the rain beating the leaves off the trees drowned out all
the other sounds in the forest. I don't really know what I expected to
hear in this weather. Any creature with any common sense at all was holed
up in a den somewhere. But every now and then I heard a crack
of a branch that I didn't think was caused by the storm. Maybe it
was like a sleep from the night before, and maybe I was just weirded
out by the weather. Whatever the case, I could not get over the
feeling that I was still being watched and followed. When I couldn't take it
anymore, I started looking for a good spot to wait out the rain.
I was hoping for a cave, but even a wide spot on the trail
where I could hang up my hammocked tarp would have been good enough for me.
Looking around and seeing shadows in the woods freaked me out a little.
Occasionally lightning would strike and I'd see something large moving. At first I would
think it was a tree, but then it would move, and then a
bolt of lightning crack the sky open, and I saw it. I've never
believed in Bigfoot. It was a joke to me, and I had not
thought about it ever. So what was standing in the woods twenty feet from
me? It was ten feet tall, covered in shaggy brown hair, except
its face was clean looking. The size of the thing was scary enough,
but it was the face that scared me the most. Its skin was dark,
and its mouth was wide, and its nostril seemed to be flaring like
it was angry, and I locked eyes with it and saw something that I
can't quite put my finger. It didn't take long to decide that this thing
wanted to kill me and eat me. That was plain to see. It
opened its mouth like it was stretching its jaws, its fangs hung down like
a baboon. I'm sure you've seen the pictures of the videos. It wasn't
a yawn. He was showing me his teeth. My head would have fit
into his mouth. And that's when panics set in. I don't know when
or where I dropped my backpack, but it wasn't with me anymore. The
trail had turned to a mud slick I moved my feet, I think,
and there was no grip to the earth, but I ran anyway, abandoning
the rules of what humans should do when facing a predator. I ran like
hell. Trees started snapping and cracking behind me, and the chase was on
from that first step, and I knew I was a dead man. I
wasn't thinking at all, just running. I felt the vibrations of his feet
hitting the ground behind me, getting closer. I heard the heavy rush of
air being sucked into and pushed out of its lungs, and ahead of me,
the trail made a sharp turn. I knew I was going too fast
in that slippery clay, but I wasn't about to slow down, so I
launched myself into the woods like I was diving off into a swimming pool.
It would only buy me a few feet before it caught up, but I
wasn't giving up yet, and instead of hitting the ground, I was snatched
backward by the shirt and this thing's nails dug into my back. It turned
me around to face it, and I was fighting like hell, kicking and
throwing punches. I didn't hurt this thing a bit, but I remember it
squinting its eyes when I would hit it in the face. The eyes it
was closing its eyes voluntarily to avoid my punches. And then I remember the
bear spray on my belt in a fast lucky grab. It came free from
the holster, and I sprayed that bastard square in the face. Apparently it
released me and swung at me at the same time I assumed to knock that
can of burning the shit out of my eye stuff out of my hand,
and then everything went black. I don't know how long I was out,
but when I woke up, I was lying next to a pile of bones.
I don't know what kind of bones they were. I remember deer skulls
and other critters, But when I saw a human skull over at the edge,
I knew I was in trouble. I heard something grunning. I remembered
it from our fight. It has been over a pool of water, washing
the bear spray out of its eyes. Hell. Yes, I thought this
thing's going to kill me. But I heard it, and that gave me
a sense of victory. The desire to keep fighting and live was still there,
and I looked for a way out of there. The trail we must
have come in one was off to my left. I put my hand in
the mud to get off the ground, and pain shot up my arm.
I looked down and I could see plainly that my wrist was broken, and
I admit that tears rolled off my face. The broken bones might be the
worst pain ever. I lifted my head and that monster had jumped up and
was looking at me with those red, swollen eyes, and I pointed at
it and I laughed out loud. Maybe I knew everything was lost and those
blistered eyes just set me off. You ain't gonna forget me, you son
of a bitch. That's exactly what I said to that bigfoot. It came
across that pile of bones and smelly rot, and it snatched me up by
my head and palming it like a basketball. It shook me, wrenching my
neck, and then it started to squeeze. My skull was about to collapse.
I was going to be defied to the end. And I stared it
straight in the eyes and I started swinging again, trying to connect with its
face, but my arms wouldn't reach it. That mouth came open and those
teeth came out, and its breath was horrible. He was enjoying this.
I could see that plainly, and I was about to black out, halfway
between dead and alive. I remember feeling a swift gust of wind and then
falling to the ground on my broken arm. I waited on my senses to
come back from that head vice that he had me in and trying to get
the pressure off my arm, and I didn't see where the monster went.
I wasn't even thinking about it. I think, looking back on it,
I was in and out of consciousness, and when I could finally think a
little, I had a grand headache and my arm throb like crazy. There's
no way I could get away now, feeling this dazed and confused, but
I looked around anyway, trying to figure out a way that I might run.
I got to my knees and over that pile of bones, and I
saw two of those creatures now, and they were fighting. They looked just
alike in my mind, and I watched them, with blurry vision, whip
the crap out of each other. They were biting and hitting each other.
In any other setting, it would have been awesome to watch, but I
knew they were fighting over which one was going to eat me. I had
to find a way and get out of there. I didn't know where I
was, and there was no time to look at my compass if I had
even been able to find my compass. There was a path to my left,
I remembered, and it went downhill, and that is where I wanted
to go, downhill and off this mountain. I staggered that way. There
was but a few steps, and I got my balance and I was running.
Fifteen minutes or so later, I had to stop and catch my breath.
That's when my arm started aching again, and I was getting dizzy,
and I wondered what sort of damage that thing had done to my brain.
But I was on my feet and I started running again, always downhill.
I wondered if the fight was over, and if either one of them even
felt like coming after me. I remember hoping they had heard each other so
bad that they would call it quits, but they didn't. Even while running
and heaving, I could hear that thing coming after me like a bulldozer off
the hill behind me. I was staying on the trail, but this thing
was bushwhacking straight at me through the thick woods like it was nothing. I
didn't know if I could get away this time. I guess I figured it
was over once again. But I had made it this far. Maybe I
had a chance, if I could just keep going. I had it straight
down the trail and ran with all the strength that I had left. That's
all I could do. Ahead I could see daylight through the trees, as
if there was a clearing. I thought it was a field maybe, which
was not good. For some reason, it felt better in the trees and
the brush. In my mind, at least that was something between it and
me. In a field, i'd be easy to catch. I don't know
why I thought these things. I guess our mind naturally works out any advantage
that we can while in a situation like this. But the daylight I saw
wasn't a field or a clearing. It was a ledge. It was a
top of a bluff that dropped down into a river or a stream. I
realized this after I fell several feet and saw the water coming up at me.
When I hit the water, the cold felt good to me, almost
like freedom. I hit the rocky bottom and luckily didn't break my arm worse
than it was. My head popped out of the water, and I looked
back up at the spot where I think I fell from, and I saw
that thing standing at the edge, and it was roaring at me. The
current pulled me away from my enemy, and he followed me down the ledge
for a distance. I remember turning and looking ahead of me, hoping the
bluff that he was on didn't slope down to a bank, because the way
he was moving he would have been able to keep up with me and eventually
catch me. But as far as I could see, the bluff stayed at
the same elevation where he stood, and it even got higher in some places.
Something kept him from jumping in after me. I'll never know what it
was, but I'm glad he stayed on the bluff. I let the current
just take me down river. A curve in the course of the river ahead
took me around to a point where I could not see the monster anymore.
I was beginning to think that I might make it out. I don't know
how far I floated down that river, but it wasn't long before I was
too cold to stay in the water, and now I was thinking about hyperthermia.
At some point I would have to get to the bank and try to
warm up. But what I knew for sure was that I would not swim
to the side of the river that that thing was on. Ahead, I
saw a gravel bar, and I started kicking to get there. My feet
started digging in the gravel to push me closer and faster, and I could
finally stand up in front of me. In the distance down the river,
I saw a bridge. There were people on the bridge. I went straight
into the river. I could take a few more minutes of cold. I
needed help, and there it was, right in front of me. There
was a group of kids on the bridge and they saw me, and I
could hear them yelling. I managed to work my way to the bank.
The first thing I did was look around both banks to see if I could
make out that monster anywhere. I don't know how far I floated down that
river, but I had not stopped, thinking that he was following me the
whole time. But when I looked up, I didn't see it anywhere.
I stood up and started walking up to the road. The group of teenagers
met me halfway and helped me up to the blacktop. An adult woman ran
to me and threw a blanket over my back and shoulders. I was never
more happy to see people in all my life. And not long after that,
an ambulance pulled up. Someone must have called nine to eleven. They
treated me with what they could and they stabilized my arm, and they loaded
me up and took me to the local hospital. The inside of that ambulance
was so warm, I remember that vividly. At the hospital, doctors treated
my wounds, and they put a cast on my arm, and they gave
me some painkillers. I had broken ribs. They said that I had never
felt pain from I guess that was from the tumble end of the water.
I was kept one night and discharged the next day. Someone from the hospital
called a cab to take me to my car, and by that afternoon I
was home. Now, I'm not a writer, and I don't keep journals.
Writing the thoughts and experiences of my life for day or week has always
seemed like a waste of time to me. When I got home and after
a long sleep, I woke late in the night and I thought that I
would try to write my experience. I knew that as the years passed,
I would forget the details, maybe forget the whole thing, and sort of
a mind preserving blackout scenario, and I wanted to remember everything about this experience,
no matter how disturbing it was for me, as strange as that may
seem. For several hours way into the daylight the next day, I wrote
everything I could remember. Not all of what I wrote that day is in
this email to you, because as I have heard you say before, stick
to the story, that you don't need the minute details that do not add
to the story. So that is what I have sent you. Thank you
very much, sir. I appreciate that I will describe to you the most
profound aspect of that day. In my view, it wasn't that I was
attacked and nearly eaten by one or more sisquatch, and that may sound off
kilter. It was at the hospital that weirder things happened. It isn't a
complicated part of this story, so don't worry that I'm going to go on
and on here, But to me it's the most shocking. Naturally, I
was questioned by the people who were taking care of my body about what had
happened. That's usual stuff. What happened to you? Did you have a
hiking accident? Yes, that's what happened to me. I told them.
I slid off the mountain into the river, and I got lucky to have
come out under a bridge where there were people. Okay, they said,
looks like you had a bad day hiking. That was it. My injuries
lined up with just that. Once they had me on painkillers and the edge
had worn off, and after some sleep, my head began to clear and
I remembered what had happened. It's not that I had forgotten. It had
just been a crazy day with so much going on. But later that night,
the activity had fallen off and I was alone in my room. It
was quiet, and I had my thoughts to myself. At some point after
midnight and I had been dozing in and out, the door opened to my
room. I expected the pesky nurse to come in and check my IV or
my blood pressure or something. They're on a schedule to wake you every hour
for that nonsense. This time it wasn't someone from the hospital. Two men
walked in my room. They pulled up chairs, and they made themselves at
home, sitting by my bed. I saw one reach into his jacket pocket
and he pulled out a device and switched it on. A red light,
blinked a few times, and he laid the device on the tray and then
rolled it toward me. They were going to record what I said. Never
once introducing themselves, the first words were, now tell us what really happened.
Well, I just looked at them and I didn't speak. Neither did
they. The silence was uncomfortable at first, but then I decided I wasn't
going to say a word of these jerks, so I let the silence hang.
There. We're waiting, the other man said. I slept off the
trail in the rain, I said, already told three people this. I'm
going to repeat myself only once. Now you can tell us what really happened,
said the first man, or what I said. They sat in my
room for several more minutes, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, and finally gathered
them elves and left, And in all that time we never spoke. I
will never know who they were, or where or what organization they came from.
What I know for sure is that they knew what had happened to me
that day, And that fact alone should say to everyone who reads this that
they, whoever they is, know what is in the woods that we hike
and camp and hunt and fish in. They know, and they are not
warning you or warning us. Why are they not warning us? Well,
that's the million dollar question, isn't it. The day before I had looked
a myth in the face and laughed at him because I had heard him.
I had scalded his eyes with my bear spray. It was and is the
best part of the whole story. The second part is that in my mind
I was laughing at those jackasses in my room that night in the same way
they weren't getting anything from me, and I knew it was scalding their ego,
just like the bear spray had scalded that bigfoot's eyes. Now, had
I told them the truth or not, they would not have used the information
to warn the public. So I was not going to conform. I doubt
I will get back to hiking anytime soon. Maybe never, but at least
I know what I'm up against if I do. And now you know,
and you can do whatever you want. But if you do go into the
woods on this continent and you get caught in a situation like I was,
fight like hell, you can survive it. That is the only advice I
can give you. Okay, Like I said, this is a genuine email
I got from somebody. Normally, I don't correspond back and forth with them
to try to determine the validity or you know, vet them or whatever,
because I really don't care. But something about this email really made me inquisitive.
And I emailed the gentleman back, and we probably went back in forth
three or four times, and I asked him to give me a few details.
I asked him to tell me where this was. He doesn't want me
to tell you exactly where it was, but it is in the it's in
Appalachia. I'll tell you that it's up in the mountains in Appalachia, and
that goes from Georgia all the way to Maine. So it's your guess is
as good as mine. He didn't want to put a finger on the exact
location. There it is. You've got it. You can decide whether you
believe him or not. You can take the story serious or just take it
as entertainment. But whatever you do, it puts a little bit of thought
in the back of your mind. In my opinion, it does me.
So thank you to the gentleman for sending the story. It was fantastic,
scary as hell, even though it was scary for you. I enjoyed that
story. I love reading it. I really appree Ship Finds