Speaker 1: In nineteen ninety four, my husband was employed by a
Speaker 1: drilling company based in Kalmauth Falls, Oregon. He traveled quite
Speaker 1: a bit around the country, taking natural gas and water
Speaker 1: samples from various wells. He worked with a crew of
Speaker 1: three other men, and their schedule consisted of twenty three
Speaker 1: days on the job followed by ten days off. The
Speaker 1: four would pocket their per diems money that the company
Speaker 1: offered as an allowance for expenses, and sneak aboard the
Speaker 1: freight trains to and from drilling sites. Their favorite spot
Speaker 1: was near a California town called Portola. As the train
Speaker 1: would begin to slow crawl up the mountain, they would
Speaker 1: jump off by a ranger station. The crew would unpack
Speaker 1: their camping gear and proceed to enjoy the next ten
Speaker 1: days of freedom, fishing and hunting and enjoying the isolated
Speaker 1: beauty of the forest in its nearby waterfall. It was
Speaker 1: a great place to be at one with nature before
Speaker 1: heading back to the rough and tumbled reality of their
Speaker 1: drilling jobs. My husband and his crew were tough men,
Speaker 1: seizing veterans of the outdoors. They didn't fear anything because
Speaker 1: they all shared a mutual respect and understanding of their surroundings.
Speaker 1: But on this particular day, however, something would happen that
Speaker 1: would shake them into their core. My husband was the
Speaker 1: first one up at the campsite that morning, while the
Speaker 1: others barely stirred in their sleeping bags. He grabbed some
Speaker 1: clean clothes and shampoo, and then made his way the
Speaker 1: three hundred yards to the waterfall. It was perfect for bathing.
Speaker 1: The basin at the foot of the falling water measured
Speaker 1: thirty square feet and was enclosed by twenty five feet
Speaker 1: of rock, like four sides of a wall. One of
Speaker 1: the crew members, a mountainous man who dwarfed the rest
Speaker 1: of them at six foot four inches. He measured the
Speaker 1: depth of the pool by walking out to the middle
Speaker 1: of it until he was totally submerged, his bare feet
Speaker 1: sunk into the black sediment while his outstretched arms and
Speaker 1: fingertips extended just above the water's surface, So the pool
Speaker 1: had to be at least nine feet deep. My husband
Speaker 1: slipped into the basin and had just lathered his hair
Speaker 1: with shampoo when he heard an enormous splash and he
Speaker 1: felt the water ripple around him. His eyes blinded by
Speaker 1: the soap, he assumed one of the crew had just
Speaker 1: joined him, and when suddenly he heard someone screaming his
Speaker 1: name in utter terror, he rinsed the soap from his
Speaker 1: eyes quickly, and he spotted his mountainous crew, remember yelling
Speaker 1: from the bank and pointing while my husband spun around
Speaker 1: and came face to face with something grotesque and horrific.
Speaker 1: It wasn't a human. The water came up to its
Speaker 1: hairy chest and its head resembled a cross between a
Speaker 1: gorilla and a cave man let out a roar, and
Speaker 1: my husband saw the beast's enormous incisors. Before he could react,
Speaker 1: it raised its brawny arms over its head and brought
Speaker 1: them down into the water, and the resulting wave, knocking
Speaker 1: my husband backward. Were disoriented. My husband had swallowed a
Speaker 1: mouthful of water and fought to gain his breath. By now,
Speaker 1: his crew had joined their mountainous coal worker on the bank,
Speaker 1: throwing rocks at this enormous man thing as it crawled
Speaker 1: from the pool. They watched it walk through a sixteen
Speaker 1: foot steel cable clothesline they had erected outside the camp.
Speaker 1: The thing pulled at it in anger, snapping it like
Speaker 1: sewing thread and dragging the remains into the woods. The
Speaker 1: panic crew made their way to the ranger station to
Speaker 1: report the incident. They estimated the creature had to be
Speaker 1: at least ten feet tall with four foot arms. Its
Speaker 1: teeth were as long as kitchen knives. The range took
Speaker 1: statements from the four men. He questioned their lack of transportation,
Speaker 1: and my husband had to confess that they were illegal
Speaker 1: stowaways who had snuck aboard of the train. Well. The
Speaker 1: ranger considered their story and explained to them that the
Speaker 1: government was well aware of a manlike species existing in
Speaker 1: the area. He further warned the men that these beings
Speaker 1: were under government protection and should they dare return or
Speaker 1: share their experience with the public, the full weight of
Speaker 1: the government would be brought to bear against the men
Speaker 1: and their families. My husband and the others looked at
Speaker 1: each other. What they had just witnessed was scary, but
Speaker 1: taking on the American government was something else. Entirely, they
Speaker 1: took the highway back. This took place just outside the
Speaker 1: small town of Catawa, North Carolina, in September of nineteen ninety,
Speaker 1: where I lived with my three sibl wings and my
Speaker 1: sixty eight year old foster mother, Doris. I was the
Speaker 1: oldest child being nine, with my sisters being eight and five,
Speaker 1: and my brother was only six months old. We lived
Speaker 1: in a single wide trailer that was almost completely surrounded
Speaker 1: by woods and were connected to civilization by a rarely
Speaker 1: used dirt road. When I say completely surrounded, behind us
Speaker 1: was woods, to our right was woods with a gully
Speaker 1: that ran thirty to forty feet deep, and across the
Speaker 1: dirt road was more woods. The only non wooded area
Speaker 1: was to our left, where there was a strip of
Speaker 1: trees with two fields just past them, which ironically enough,
Speaker 1: were surrounded by woods. Seeing as how Doris only allowed
Speaker 1: us to watch Nature, Nova and the smothers brothers, we
Speaker 1: spent almost all of our free time playing and exploring outside.
Speaker 1: I was used to most of the sights, sounds, and
Speaker 1: smells that surrounded us outside, but a few did throw
Speaker 1: me off. Almost daily, I heard whoops and hollers that
Speaker 1: sounded just like howler monkeys or siamings. I had recently
Speaker 1: watched a Nature or Nova episode devoted to these monkeys,
Speaker 1: which I didn't think was right because none of those
Speaker 1: lived in the United States. Those calls always came from
Speaker 1: either behind our trailer or to the right of it
Speaker 1: usually from a pretty decent distance. The woods behind the
Speaker 1: house was one of the few areas I never extensively explored.
Speaker 1: Every time I stepped into the tree line, I got
Speaker 1: this overwhelming feeling that something didn't want me there. I
Speaker 1: didn't feel scared so much as sternly warned. However, on
Speaker 1: one occasion, I made it about twenty feet into the
Speaker 1: trees before getting that feeling that before I turned around,
Speaker 1: I noticed three or four decent sized saplings about ten
Speaker 1: or twelve feet tall, bent over and worked into one another,
Speaker 1: as if someone had tried to make a crude shelter.
Speaker 1: I finally got the hint and left those woods and
Speaker 1: never went back in. And on maybe three or four
Speaker 1: more occasions, I remember waking up in the middle of
Speaker 1: the night to the overwhelming odor of what smelled like
Speaker 1: a wet dog wafting through my partially open window. It
Speaker 1: was summer and Doris was trying to save money by
Speaker 1: opening windows versus using the air conditioner. It would only
Speaker 1: last a few moments before the smell seemed to dissipate.
Speaker 1: Whenever I would experience any of this, I just kind
Speaker 1: of brushed it off. I was going through a lot
Speaker 1: at the time in foster care and trying my best
Speaker 1: to make sure my siblings were taken care of. My
Speaker 1: mother made me a promise to look after them, so
Speaker 1: I didn't think too much about anything else. I had
Speaker 1: never heard of anything in my young wife about bigfoot,
Speaker 1: so I just assumed that the noises were from birds
Speaker 1: that I had never learned, the names of the smells
Speaker 1: were from animals pooping close to the house or my
Speaker 1: brother's diaper, and that the whole woods behind the trailer
Speaker 1: ordeal was me being a scaredy cat. All of that
Speaker 1: changed in late September of nineteen ninety. We were all
Speaker 1: from school for a teacher work day and we had
Speaker 1: decided that we were going to go about a quarter
Speaker 1: of a mile down the road and try our hand
Speaker 1: at climbing this clay embankment that was especially challenging. Doris
Speaker 1: wasn't fond of the mess we would make of ourselves,
Speaker 1: but since we were wearing our well worn play clothes,
Speaker 1: she let us go. So I went with my two
Speaker 1: sisters down to the clay embankment, and when I got there,
Speaker 1: I stopped. When my oldest sister asked me what was wrong,
Speaker 1: I pointed to the two bare footprints that led us
Speaker 1: up the embankment. They were about thirteen inches long and
Speaker 1: about five inches wide. The only reason I remember this
Speaker 1: is because we had just finished working on this art
Speaker 1: project in school, and I had made it a point
Speaker 1: to measure my hand. Thumb tip to the tip of
Speaker 1: my middle finger was five inches. I was confused, first
Speaker 1: of all by the fact that someone had seemed to
Speaker 1: climb this really steep embankment barefoot, and secondly by the
Speaker 1: fact that they had apparently had done it in two steps.
Speaker 1: I looked up the embankment and tried to figure out
Speaker 1: which way it had gone. I looked left and saw
Speaker 1: nothing unusual. But when I looked right, I saw something
Speaker 1: that boggled my mind. About seventy five yards away, I
Speaker 1: saw what looked like a weird, oversized gorilla walking on
Speaker 1: two legs across the road. It had taken one step
Speaker 1: into the middle of the road, and as it went
Speaker 1: to take the second step, it turned at the hips
Speaker 1: and looked at us. It didn't slow down or make
Speaker 1: a sound. The second step put it on the other
Speaker 1: side of the road, and then it descended down into
Speaker 1: the gully. The entire encounter from my discovery of the
Speaker 1: footprints to the creature disappearing from view lasted maybe fifteen seconds.
Speaker 1: After that, I made my sister's run back to the
Speaker 1: trailer and I was right behind them. I told Doris
Speaker 1: about it, but she laughed at me and said I
Speaker 1: had a really great imagination. I didn't learn anything about
Speaker 1: what Bigfoot was, not even the name, until we went
Speaker 1: to our local library a few weeks later and I
Speaker 1: saw a book with a Bigfoot face on the cover.
Speaker 1: I knew instantly that that was what I had seen,
Speaker 1: and since then I have spent the next twenty nine
Speaker 1: years researching and listening to other people's encounters. I've traveled
Speaker 1: around the entire lower forty eight states and through five
Speaker 1: time zones of Canada from the Atlantic to the Pacific coast,
Speaker 1: offer hiking and photography. I have visited all the big cities,
Speaker 1: but most of the time I'm in one of the
Speaker 1: national parks or state parks or national monuments. Recently, during
Speaker 1: the winter, my daughter and I headed to Florida for
Speaker 1: a week or two. The highlight for us was Key West.
Speaker 1: We spent a couple of days in the Keys, and
Speaker 1: after getting our fill of beautiful sunsets, we headed back
Speaker 1: to the mainland. We reached US forty one through the
Speaker 1: Everglades around midnight, and we found a water pump station
Speaker 1: and we parked under the light pole to kill some
Speaker 1: time and rest up. After a while, a police car
Speaker 1: pulled into the station. I assumed it wanted us and
Speaker 1: everyone else out, so I started the car again and
Speaker 1: I pulled onto the road heading west. We wanted to
Speaker 1: be at Sharp Valley entrance to the Everglades National Park
Speaker 1: by sunrise so we could spend the day hiking, and
Speaker 1: our plan was to pass the entrance and find a
Speaker 1: safe place to park for a few hours. We drove
Speaker 1: past Monroe Station and found a picnic area and we parked.
Speaker 1: The moon was an upside down crescent sitting far in
Speaker 1: the east of a black sky full of stars, and
Speaker 1: after just a few minutes I saw a shooting star.
Speaker 1: And my daughter had fallen asleep by then, and as
Speaker 1: I scanned the sky looking for more action in the distance,
Speaker 1: I saw a light coming our way. I thought it
Speaker 1: may have been a lightning bug, since in Florida insects
Speaker 1: seem a lot bigger than back home in New Jersey.
Speaker 1: But as I watched it get closer, I realized it
Speaker 1: wasn't a lightning bug at all. It was the eye
Speaker 1: of a ten foot tall monster. It was blazing evil
Speaker 1: a giant lemon, and sticking out from the head of
Speaker 1: a beast. I fumbled to reach for the headlights, but
Speaker 1: my better senses told me not to let this thing
Speaker 1: know I was there. It moved like it was on
Speaker 1: roller skates, without the slightest bounce in its step, and
Speaker 1: it was so big that it would have had to
Speaker 1: have stooped down to look an elephant in the eye,
Speaker 1: and it could have ripped the roof off my car
Speaker 1: and plucked us like eggs from a basket. But instead
Speaker 1: it disappeared into the darkness to the east, and I
Speaker 1: could tell it was on a mission, and I was
Speaker 1: relieved it didn't involve me and my daughter. At that point,
Speaker 1: I didn't care about getting any sleep, so I started
Speaker 1: the car and drove it to the exit and got
Speaker 1: straight out of there. When morning came, we headed back
Speaker 1: to the Everglades National Park, and when we passed through
Speaker 1: Monroe Station again, we saw signs that said don't feed
Speaker 1: the Bigfoot. I have repeatedly heard that Bigfoot has red eyes,
Speaker 1: but the eyes of the creature I saw were blazing
Speaker 1: fluorescat yellow without any pupils. I'm sure it could see
Speaker 1: in the dark and must have known my daughter and
Speaker 1: I were there. I believe it was a dog man,
Speaker 1: and I told my daughter about it the next morning,
Speaker 1: and to this day, I'm ridden with guilt that I
Speaker 1: endangered her life by not getting out of there sooner.
Speaker 1: It had the chance to confront us, but for some
Speaker 1: reason it chose not to. We were lucky it didn't
Speaker 1: come back with a friend and to pick up the
Speaker 1: car and carry us away to never be seen again. Wow,
Speaker 1: that's another Florida, Florida's story, I said. When I first
Speaker 1: started it, it was labeled a dog Man's story and
Speaker 1: the sign said don't fit feed Bigfoot. This is in
Speaker 1: Florida Monroe Station Everglades National Park. I guess this guy
Speaker 1: saw a dog man. I wonder if he saw any
Speaker 1: more detail other than the shape, because it was dark
Speaker 1: and there was a crescent man, there wasn't a full moon,
Speaker 1: and it had big glowing eyes. Man man, That is cool,
Speaker 1: cool story. Thank you to the writer. I hope you
Speaker 1: guys have gotten over that episode and they're continuing to
Speaker 1: hike and did you say you do Yeah, hiking in photography.
Speaker 1: He's a photographer, so I hope you're still into that.
Speaker 1: I really do, and again I appreciate the story, sir.
Speaker 1: I'm an ex park ranger, an avid outdoor enthusiast, and
Speaker 1: an experienced camper, hiker, and kayaker. I've spent countless days
Speaker 1: and nights working in and exploring state national parks all
Speaker 1: over the country, and particularly in my home state of Florida,
Speaker 1: where we have a variety of wildlife. I also have
Speaker 1: several years of experience with wildlife rehabilitation and an understanding
Speaker 1: of wildlife behaviors. I'm no stranger to a variety of
Speaker 1: noises in the outdoors at all times of day and night.
Speaker 1: I enjoy camping with others, and I often pursue solo
Speaker 1: camping adventures so I can hone my photography skills and
Speaker 1: HI can explore where and when I want and travel
Speaker 1: as faster as far as I like, without being slowed
Speaker 1: by someone else or expecting them to adhere to my schedule.
Speaker 1: A lone time on an outdoor adventure also helps me
Speaker 1: tune in to nature and get closer to wildlife without
Speaker 1: disturbing them, and enable them to get closer to me,
Speaker 1: and it allows me to get better photography opportunities. As
Speaker 1: a middle aged woman, I'm well aware of safety concerns
Speaker 1: while on my adventures, and I have a good sixth
Speaker 1: sense or radar as my dad used to call it,
Speaker 1: an invaluable skill, especially as a solo adventurist. I've had
Speaker 1: a few alarming close calls out there over the years,
Speaker 1: and I can say with certainty that I am much
Speaker 1: more wary of humans than wildlife. I know what wild
Speaker 1: animals are up to and why, but humans not so much.
Speaker 1: I have a concealed weapons license, and I bring a
Speaker 1: handgun on camping trips, as well as pepper spray, bear spray,
Speaker 1: a whistle, several knives, and even an air horn. Having
Speaker 1: said that, I don't get spooked easily. I'm simply a practical,
Speaker 1: realistic person in a sometimes dangerous world. The experience I'm
Speaker 1: about to share with you, I don't think I'll ever
Speaker 1: be able to forget, let alone fully comprehend. It's not
Speaker 1: the scariest or strangest thing ever, but unforgettable. Nonetheless, everyone
Speaker 1: I recount this story to says the same thing. They
Speaker 1: agree it's bizarre and can offer no reasonable explanation. In
Speaker 1: the spring of twenty seventeen, I arrived at Manatee Spring
Speaker 1: State Park, located west of Gainesville near the Gulf Coast
Speaker 1: of Florida, around noon and felt fortunate to book the
Speaker 1: last remaining of a site for the night. I set
Speaker 1: up my tent and placed a tablecloth over the picnic table,
Speaker 1: as well as several items such as a water jug, lantern,
Speaker 1: park information and other items. My site was adjacent to
Speaker 1: a trail that leads to the spring head, where the
Speaker 1: concessions stand and picnic pavilions and entry to the spring
Speaker 1: run are located. The springhead and day use area are
Speaker 1: popular for swimmers and divers and paddlers and picnicers, and
Speaker 1: they are opened during daylight hours only. I was eager
Speaker 1: to explore all this gorgeous park has to offer, and
Speaker 1: as I was standing next to my picnic table studying
Speaker 1: the trail map, I had an intense sensation that I
Speaker 1: was being watched. I looked up to see a tall, thin,
Speaker 1: pale young man he was maybe twenty years old, walking
Speaker 1: past my site on the trail from the spring into
Speaker 1: the campground. He was looking over directly at me with
Speaker 1: a wide, knowing grin, as if he was far too
Speaker 1: interested in me, and he was continually nodding his head
Speaker 1: at me as he walked past. He never stopped that
Speaker 1: smirk and head nodding even after he saw that I
Speaker 1: saw him looking at me, and his eyes never left
Speaker 1: mine as he walked past. Neither of us said a
Speaker 1: word to the other. Puzzled and kind of weired it out,
Speaker 1: I watched him continue on further into the campground, where
Speaker 1: I could only assume that he was also camping. It
Speaker 1: kind of gave me the creeps, because nothing about my clothes, demeanor,
Speaker 1: or actions would have elicited interest or attention from anyone
Speaker 1: in any way, especially a young man less than half
Speaker 1: my age while minding my own business in my own campsite.
Speaker 1: I wrote him off as a weirdo, and I pushed
Speaker 1: it to the back of my mind while I continued
Speaker 1: planning my adventures for the rest of the day. I
Speaker 1: gathered my cameras and hiking gear, and I headed down
Speaker 1: the trail to the spring head. When I was taking
Speaker 1: photos and enjoying the wildlife and the crystalline blue waters
Speaker 1: and majestic old oaks and cypress trees. After exploring some
Speaker 1: hiking trails for a few hours. I headed back up
Speaker 1: the spring trail to my campsite and I ate a
Speaker 1: quick dinner, and I looked through the photos and videos
Speaker 1: and began planning the next day's adventure. To my relief,
Speaker 1: I did not see the strange acting young man again.
Speaker 1: Everything seemed peaceful and normal in the campground, or so
Speaker 1: I thought. At sunset, I noticed the thick fog settling in.
Speaker 1: During normal daytime visibility, I could easily see the bath
Speaker 1: house and many other nearby campers even way across the loop.
Speaker 1: But I soon realized how dramatically that was changing. Darkness
Speaker 1: descended quickly in an every quiet envelope the campground, along
Speaker 1: with a dense fog, and suddenly I remembered the young
Speaker 1: man from earlier, and I got a creepy sensation. So
Speaker 1: I decided I'd feel safer if I slept in my
Speaker 1: lock truck cab instead of my tent. I certainly did
Speaker 1: not want any unexpected surprises at my tent during this
Speaker 1: dark and foggy night, And after a while I got
Speaker 1: comfortable leaning back in the driver's seat and I hoped
Speaker 1: for a peaceful night sleep. Although I was admittedly concerned
Speaker 1: with the lack of visibility in those conditions, I cracked
Speaker 1: the side windows a little for ventilation so that I
Speaker 1: could at least hear outside, because I truly could not
Speaker 1: see anything. It was so black outside and the fog
Speaker 1: was the thickest I had ever encountered in my life.
Speaker 1: I strained to see something, anything out my windshield or
Speaker 1: back or side windows, but it was impossible. I could
Speaker 1: not even see the huge light over the bathhouse. I've
Speaker 1: never experienced such a sense of nowareness. It was like
Speaker 1: I was all alone in the dark arc was a
Speaker 1: silent cloud of nothingness, completely helpless and alone. It's possible
Speaker 1: that I would have been able to fall asleep soon,
Speaker 1: but the silence was permeated by the sound of distant
Speaker 1: drums beating, reminiscent of some sort of native ritual. I
Speaker 1: got a distinct feeling of being acutely aware of the
Speaker 1: life giving spring and lands that were sacred to the
Speaker 1: natives for thousands of years in this area. The sounds
Speaker 1: never got very loud or close, but it sure seemed
Speaker 1: like the drumming was coming from the Springhead area, which
Speaker 1: I thought was really odd because the entire area of
Speaker 1: the park is closed after dark, and it would be
Speaker 1: impossible for anyone to even see to get down there anyway.
Speaker 1: Lights are useless in this thick fog, And why would
Speaker 1: anyone want to form a drumming circle or anything on
Speaker 1: such a night like this? Were they the sounds of
Speaker 1: native spirits from another realm? Things were getting really strange,
Speaker 1: and I struggled to make a logical sense of any
Speaker 1: of it. An hour passed when suddenly, as if things
Speaker 1: weren't eerie enough, bam, my truck bed bounced so hard
Speaker 1: that it shook my whole truck. Something fell in the
Speaker 1: bed of my truck, but I couldn't see anything. All
Speaker 1: I could see was thick, black, foggy nothingness, and my
Speaker 1: brain raced for an explanation. Maybe it was a raccoon
Speaker 1: or some other critter that had fallen out of a
Speaker 1: tree in this thick darkness, But that was crazy. And besides,
Speaker 1: I would have heard an animal scramble up and out
Speaker 1: of my truck bed, right, but I heard nothing other
Speaker 1: than the drumming. Besides, what animal would be that heavy
Speaker 1: to bounce my truck so hard? Maybe a dead tree
Speaker 1: branch fell. Does that mean there could be more, or
Speaker 1: maybe that guy sneaked over here in the dark to
Speaker 1: mess with me. Well, there's no way he could even
Speaker 1: see to get over here in this thick, black fog.
Speaker 1: I thought, maybe this, Maybe that nothing made any reasonable sense.
Speaker 1: When logic doesn't suffice, what's a brain to do? And
Speaker 1: I tried to comfort myself in all the confusion, and
Speaker 1: I told myself I would probably find a decayed old
Speaker 1: tree branch in the back of my truck in the morning, right,
Speaker 1: it was a little consolation. Meanwhile, the drum beats continued
Speaker 1: for a couple more hours in the eerie, foggy darkness,
Speaker 1: and then they suddenly stopped, and there was nothing but
Speaker 1: silence and fog and darkness for hours. I hoped I
Speaker 1: would be safe inside here, and I never felt so
Speaker 1: helpless and vulnerable in my life. I felt like bait.
Speaker 1: I had no choice but to stay wide awake all
Speaker 1: night with my senses on high alert. The thick fog
Speaker 1: remained and I could not see anything outside of my
Speaker 1: truck at all all night long, and the night seemed
Speaker 1: very long. Indeed, the minutes and the hours dragged on. Finally,
Speaker 1: after what seemed like an eternity, I noticed a slight
Speaker 1: sign of daylight, but did not feel comfortable yet or
Speaker 1: safe enough to open my door or dare to step
Speaker 1: outside lest I inadvertently make myself vulnerable to whatever or
Speaker 1: whoever might be out there. After several more minutes, I
Speaker 1: began to notice the vague outline of nearby trees in
Speaker 1: the bath house light. Finally, daylight was coming soon enough.
Speaker 1: My curiosity got the best of me, and I slowly
Speaker 1: and quietly opened my truck door, and I stepped outside,
Speaker 1: and I scanned the area, and then I eagerly turned
Speaker 1: to see what had fallen into the bed of my truck.
Speaker 1: I had to know, well, there was nothing nothing, no branches,
Speaker 1: no tree bark, no animal. There was nothing there. Everything
Speaker 1: was exactly as I had left it. How could this be? Now?
Speaker 1: Everything seemed even more bizarre, since there was no reasonable
Speaker 1: explanation for the huge thud that made my truck bounce.
Speaker 1: The fog soon lifted completely, and like magic, the daylight
Speaker 1: and sunshine erased all mysterious and eerie sensations as if
Speaker 1: they had never happened. Still totally perplexed and not knowing
Speaker 1: what to make of anything, I packed my gear and
Speaker 1: headed for my next destination. I guess I'll never get
Speaker 1: any explanations, the creepy young guy, the ridiculously thick fog.
Speaker 1: Unlike any I had ever seen the drums beating from
Speaker 1: the springhead on such a dark, foggy night, or the
Speaker 1: huge thud that shook my truck, but it sure felt
Speaker 1: like I had suddenly been an unwitting guest in a
Speaker 1: Hitchcock film for several hours. I continue to enjoy camping
Speaker 1: adventures all over the country, but when I left that morning,
Speaker 1: I swore that I would never return to that park alone.
Speaker 1: Thanks for reading, and keep up the great work. My
Speaker 1: friends call me Hook