WEBVTT 1 00:00:00.040 --> 00:00:01.600 Today, I want to tell you about a journey that 2 00:00:01.600 --> 00:00:03.879 I've been on for most of my life. Ever since 3 00:00:03.919 --> 00:00:05.799 I was a kid, I've heard tales of bigfoot and 4 00:00:05.839 --> 00:00:08.320 wild men while spending time with my friends and family. 5 00:00:09.039 --> 00:00:11.439 As I grew older and read more about the paranormal, 6 00:00:11.599 --> 00:00:14.679 my interest in encryptids and other things strange only deepened. 7 00:00:15.240 --> 00:00:17.160 That's why I'm so excited to share with you what 8 00:00:17.199 --> 00:00:21.640 I've personally become involved with the Untold Radio Network. The 9 00:00:21.719 --> 00:00:25.280 Untold Radio Network is a live streaming podcast network that 10 00:00:25.359 --> 00:00:29.359 airs a new show every day across all podcast platforms, YouTube, 11 00:00:29.359 --> 00:00:32.119 and more. They have eight different shows on all sorts 12 00:00:32.159 --> 00:00:36.119 of exciting topics such as bigfoot, cryptids, UFOs, aliens, and 13 00:00:36.200 --> 00:00:39.479 much more. I even have my own show called Weird Encounters, 14 00:00:39.479 --> 00:00:42.439 where I talk about all things strange. This is more 15 00:00:42.479 --> 00:00:45.280 than just a podcast network. It's a community that allows 16 00:00:45.320 --> 00:00:47.759 me to meet so many amazing people who share their 17 00:00:47.799 --> 00:00:51.520 stories and experiences with strange. If you're interested in hearing 18 00:00:51.520 --> 00:00:53.880 more of these stories and learning more about the paranormal 19 00:00:53.960 --> 00:00:56.679 and encryptids, make sure you check out the Untold Radio 20 00:00:56.759 --> 00:01:00.640 Network for all kinds of exciting shows. It's free to subscribe. 21 00:01:00.679 --> 00:01:04.400 So what are you waiting for visit www dot Untold 22 00:01:04.519 --> 00:01:06.560 Radio Network dot com today? 23 00:01:06.760 --> 00:01:09.680 Now, what are your reporting? I got a screen going 24 00:01:09.719 --> 00:01:12.120 on here. Something just kid with my dog. Something to 25 00:01:12.200 --> 00:01:15.280 kill your dog? My dog. We're flying through there over 26 00:01:15.319 --> 00:01:20.079 the tree. I don't know how it did it? Okay, damn, 27 00:01:20.159 --> 00:01:22.640 I'm really confused. All I saw was my dog coming 28 00:01:22.680 --> 00:01:24.480 over the fence, and they would dead once you hit 29 00:01:24.519 --> 00:01:26.560 the grill. I didn't see any cars. All I saw 30 00:01:26.680 --> 00:01:45.640 was my dog coming over the fence. Are you reporting 31 00:01:46.599 --> 00:01:50.439 we got some wonder or something crawling around out here? 32 00:01:57.400 --> 00:02:00.359 Did you see what it was? It was enough out here. 33 00:02:00.359 --> 00:02:02.359 Look him near the window now and I don't need anything. 34 00:02:02.400 --> 00:02:10.560 I don't want to go outside. Its fight. Hello, hit 35 00:02:10.639 --> 00:02:11.479 the buddy out here? 36 00:02:11.759 --> 00:02:12.199 What quin? 37 00:02:12.240 --> 00:02:15.159 I'm out there? I thought of a venus about text nine? 38 00:02:15.240 --> 00:02:17.719 I don't know. Easy am out there? Yeah, I'm walking 39 00:02:17.800 --> 00:02:18.280 right heady. 40 00:02:18.439 --> 00:02:21.240 Oh. My name's Janet and I've been hunting mushrooms in 41 00:02:21.280 --> 00:02:24.240 the Coast Range for thirty years. Started when I was 42 00:02:24.280 --> 00:02:27.199 a kid with my grandpa, kept it up after he passed. 43 00:02:27.960 --> 00:02:31.319 I know these woods like my own backyard. Every logging road, 44 00:02:31.639 --> 00:02:35.120 every clear cut, every patch where the chanterelles grow thick 45 00:02:35.159 --> 00:02:38.960 after the first fall rains. What happened in October twenty 46 00:02:39.039 --> 00:02:42.680 sixteen made me question everything. I was forty five then 47 00:02:43.000 --> 00:02:46.240 going through a rough patch, lost my job at the mill, 48 00:02:46.520 --> 00:02:49.680 my husband had left the year before, and picking mushrooms 49 00:02:49.719 --> 00:02:53.400 was about the only thing keeping me sane. Plus, with 50 00:02:53.479 --> 00:02:56.759 the commercial buyers paying good money for Shantarell's, it was 51 00:02:56.879 --> 00:03:00.960 keeping me afloat financially. That Tuesday, I headed out before 52 00:03:01.039 --> 00:03:04.080 dawn to my best spot. It's about an hour's drive 53 00:03:04.120 --> 00:03:08.199 from Tillamook, then another forty minutes on logging roads way 54 00:03:08.199 --> 00:03:11.199 back in there, second growth forest that's been left alone 55 00:03:11.199 --> 00:03:14.039 for fifty years, the kind of place where the moss 56 00:03:14.080 --> 00:03:17.080 hangs thick and the air always smells like earth and rain. 57 00:03:17.960 --> 00:03:21.120 I'd been picking since first light, had about fifteen pounds 58 00:03:21.159 --> 00:03:24.759 in my bucket, good haul. The rain had been perfect 59 00:03:24.759 --> 00:03:27.560 that week, enough to bring up the mushrooms, but not 60 00:03:27.639 --> 00:03:30.759 so much that they got water logged. I was working 61 00:03:30.759 --> 00:03:33.639 my way along a hillside, eyes on the ground, when 62 00:03:33.639 --> 00:03:36.719 I noticed I'd wandered into an area I didn't recognize. 63 00:03:37.400 --> 00:03:39.039 That's hard to do when you know a place as 64 00:03:39.039 --> 00:03:41.680 well as I knew those woods. But I must have 65 00:03:41.719 --> 00:03:45.000 followed the mushrooms farther than usual, ended up in this 66 00:03:45.039 --> 00:03:49.039 little valley I'd never seen before, old growth on the slopes, 67 00:03:49.360 --> 00:03:54.560 creek running through the bottom, beautiful spot untouched. The mushrooms 68 00:03:54.560 --> 00:03:58.680 were incredible. There chantrell's the size of my hand, growing 69 00:03:58.719 --> 00:04:02.759 in clusters under the hemlocks. I got excited, started filling 70 00:04:02.759 --> 00:04:06.520 my bucket fast. Should have paid more attention to my surroundings. 71 00:04:07.000 --> 00:04:10.120 Should have noticed how quiet it had gotten. When you're 72 00:04:10.120 --> 00:04:12.879 focused on the ground looking for that golden color in 73 00:04:12.919 --> 00:04:16.759 the doff, you tune out a lot. But eventually the 74 00:04:16.839 --> 00:04:21.120 silence got through to me. No birds, no squirrels, even 75 00:04:21.160 --> 00:04:25.160 the creek seemed muted. I stood up, stretched my back, 76 00:04:25.560 --> 00:04:28.040 and that's when the smell hit me. You know when 77 00:04:28.079 --> 00:04:31.240 you open an old freezer that's been unplugged. That funk 78 00:04:31.279 --> 00:04:35.000 of old meat and mildew like that, but mixed with 79 00:04:35.079 --> 00:04:39.480 wet dog and something sharp, almost like ammonia, strong enough 80 00:04:39.560 --> 00:04:42.480 that I had to breathe through my mouth. I looked around, 81 00:04:42.759 --> 00:04:45.360 trying to figure out where it was coming from. That's 82 00:04:45.399 --> 00:04:48.920 when I saw the structures about thirty yards up slope, 83 00:04:49.040 --> 00:04:53.040 built between two huge cedars. Were these I don't know 84 00:04:53.079 --> 00:04:56.959 what to call them shelters. They were made of branches 85 00:04:57.040 --> 00:05:00.120 woven together, covered with moss and ferns. Like the He'd 86 00:05:00.160 --> 00:05:04.199 been there a while, but the construction was deliberate. Branches 87 00:05:04.240 --> 00:05:07.600 bent and twisted into art shapes, lashed together with what 88 00:05:07.720 --> 00:05:10.519 looked like strips of bark. There were three of them, 89 00:05:10.959 --> 00:05:14.319 different sizes. The biggest was maybe eight feet tall and 90 00:05:14.439 --> 00:05:17.879 ten feet across, big enough to stand up in if 91 00:05:17.959 --> 00:05:21.079 you were tall. They weren't like any hunting blinds or 92 00:05:21.120 --> 00:05:25.319 homeless camps I'd ever seen, too well made, two integrated 93 00:05:25.319 --> 00:05:29.199 into the forest. I should have left right then. Every 94 00:05:29.240 --> 00:05:31.639 instinct I had was screaming at me to get out, 95 00:05:32.360 --> 00:05:36.680 but curiosity won. I walked closer, trying to see inside 96 00:05:36.680 --> 00:05:40.879 the biggest structure. The entrance was low, maybe four feet high. 97 00:05:41.319 --> 00:05:44.120 I had to crouch to look in. The smell was 98 00:05:44.160 --> 00:05:48.319 overwhelming there made my eyes water. Inside was dark, but 99 00:05:48.399 --> 00:05:51.560 I could make out shapes, a bed of sorts made 100 00:05:51.560 --> 00:05:54.600 from cedar boughs, laid over a frame of sticks, and 101 00:05:54.680 --> 00:05:58.560 in the back, barely visible were bones, lots of bones. 102 00:05:59.360 --> 00:06:03.000 I backed out fast, part hammering started to turn around 103 00:06:03.000 --> 00:06:07.879 and froze. There were footprints around the shelters. Everywhere, different 104 00:06:07.920 --> 00:06:11.959 sizes but all the same shape, human like but not. 105 00:06:12.959 --> 00:06:16.240 The biggest ones were at least eighteen inches long. That's 106 00:06:16.240 --> 00:06:19.439 when I heard the whistle, long and low, coming from 107 00:06:19.439 --> 00:06:22.439 somewhere above me on the slope, not like any bird 108 00:06:22.480 --> 00:06:26.240 I knew. It held for maybe ten seconds, then stopped 109 00:06:27.000 --> 00:06:30.399 a few seconds later. Another whistle answered from across the valley, 110 00:06:30.959 --> 00:06:35.079 then a third from downstream. I ran, didn't care about 111 00:06:35.120 --> 00:06:40.360 my mushrooms, didn't care about staying quiet, just ran behind me. 112 00:06:40.399 --> 00:06:44.000 I heard crashing in the underbrush, not following me exactly, 113 00:06:44.319 --> 00:06:48.920 but moving parallel, keeping pace. The whistles came more frequently, 114 00:06:49.279 --> 00:06:52.560 seemed like they were coordinating. I'm not a young woman, 115 00:06:52.759 --> 00:06:55.600 and running through thick forest with a full pack isn't easy. 116 00:06:56.399 --> 00:06:59.600 After maybe ten minutes, I had to stop, gasping for air. 117 00:07:00.360 --> 00:07:04.279 The moment I stopped, everything went quiet, No more crashing, 118 00:07:04.600 --> 00:07:08.480 no more whistles, just my own ragged breathing. But I 119 00:07:08.480 --> 00:07:12.680 could feel them watching. You know that sensation like pressure 120 00:07:12.720 --> 00:07:16.639 on your skin, That's what it felt like. I started 121 00:07:16.680 --> 00:07:19.600 walking again, fast as I could manage, trying to figure 122 00:07:19.600 --> 00:07:23.560 out where I was. Nothing looked familiar. In my panic, 123 00:07:23.839 --> 00:07:26.959 I'd run the wrong direction. The sun was getting low, 124 00:07:27.279 --> 00:07:30.399 maybe two hours of light left. I picked a direction 125 00:07:30.480 --> 00:07:33.959 that seemed right and kept moving. Every hundred yards or so, 126 00:07:34.240 --> 00:07:37.519 I'd hear movement in the brush behind me. When I stopped, 127 00:07:37.839 --> 00:07:42.639 it stopped. When I moved, it moved. After an hour 128 00:07:42.720 --> 00:07:44.600 of this cat and mouse game, I came to a 129 00:07:44.639 --> 00:07:49.040 small clearing. The whistle came again, very close. I turned 130 00:07:49.040 --> 00:07:52.480 around slowly. At the edge of the clearing, maybe twenty 131 00:07:52.519 --> 00:07:56.079 five feet away. Something stood behind a big maple. I 132 00:07:56.120 --> 00:07:58.879 could see part of it, a shoulder and arm covered 133 00:07:58.920 --> 00:08:02.560 in reddish brown hair. The arm was huge, muscled like 134 00:08:02.560 --> 00:08:06.759 a bodybuilder's, but longer, wrong proportions for a human. It 135 00:08:06.879 --> 00:08:09.560 leaned out slightly and I saw part of its face, 136 00:08:10.360 --> 00:08:13.399 heavy brow, deep set eyes that caught the fading light. 137 00:08:14.279 --> 00:08:17.879 The face was almost human, but not quite, like looking 138 00:08:17.920 --> 00:08:21.279 at a reflection in disturbed water. It watched me for 139 00:08:21.319 --> 00:08:25.079 maybe five seconds, then pulled back behind the tree. I 140 00:08:25.120 --> 00:08:28.839 stood there, shaking, trying to decide what to do. Running 141 00:08:28.839 --> 00:08:33.080 seemed pointless. It was faster than me. Fighting was impossible, 142 00:08:33.639 --> 00:08:35.360 so I did the only thing I could think of. 143 00:08:36.559 --> 00:08:39.840 I took off my pack, pulled out my lunch, a sandwich, 144 00:08:39.840 --> 00:08:42.080 and apple I hadn't eaten and set them in the 145 00:08:42.080 --> 00:08:46.159 middle of the clearing. The woods went very still. I 146 00:08:46.200 --> 00:08:50.080 backed away, slowly, keeping my eyes on the maple tree. 147 00:08:50.159 --> 00:08:52.399 When I reached the far side of the clearing, I 148 00:08:52.480 --> 00:08:57.919 turned and walked away, not running, just walking steady. Behind me, 149 00:08:58.000 --> 00:09:02.000 I heard movement, something approaching the circle. I didn't look back, 150 00:09:02.559 --> 00:09:06.080 kept walking as the light faded, trying to stay calm. 151 00:09:06.399 --> 00:09:09.279 About twenty minutes later I hit an old logging road, 152 00:09:09.879 --> 00:09:12.759 not one I recognized, but any road was better than 153 00:09:12.799 --> 00:09:16.360 the forest. I followed it downhill, figuring it had to 154 00:09:16.440 --> 00:09:19.879 lead somewhere. Full dark. By the time I saw headlights 155 00:09:20.360 --> 00:09:23.799 a truck coming up the road. I waved frantically and 156 00:09:23.840 --> 00:09:29.039 it stopped. Young guy maybe twenty five, looked concerned, asked 157 00:09:29.039 --> 00:09:31.759 if I was okay, said I looked pretty shaken up. 158 00:09:32.360 --> 00:09:35.519 I told him I'd gotten turned around picking mushrooms, lost 159 00:09:35.519 --> 00:09:38.240 track of time. He offered to drive me back to 160 00:09:38.279 --> 00:09:41.720 my truck. Said I was lucky. This road dead ended 161 00:09:41.720 --> 00:09:45.080 in another mile and there wasn't another vehicle for ten miles. 162 00:09:46.000 --> 00:09:48.720 During the drive, I asked him about the area. He 163 00:09:48.799 --> 00:09:51.480 got quiet, then said his dad had logged these parts 164 00:09:51.519 --> 00:09:54.320 in the eighties, always told him there were places you 165 00:09:54.320 --> 00:09:59.000 didn't go, especially alone. Some valleys were off limits, had 166 00:09:59.000 --> 00:10:01.960 been as long as anyone, and remembered. We drove in 167 00:10:02.039 --> 00:10:04.919 silence after that. When we got to my truck, he 168 00:10:04.960 --> 00:10:07.720 waited until I got it started, then said something that 169 00:10:07.799 --> 00:10:10.720 stuck with me. He said his dad once saw something 170 00:10:10.799 --> 00:10:13.720 up here that made him quit logging. Never said what, 171 00:10:14.159 --> 00:10:17.039 but he never came back to these woods. I thanked 172 00:10:17.120 --> 00:10:20.240 him and drove home. Didn't go back for my mushroom bucket, 173 00:10:20.600 --> 00:10:23.480 didn't go back to that area ever again. But I 174 00:10:23.519 --> 00:10:26.559 did do some research. Found out that indigenous peoples in 175 00:10:26.600 --> 00:10:29.480 the area have stories going back centuries about the hairy 176 00:10:29.519 --> 00:10:33.120 giants and the mountains. They left offerings, stayed out of 177 00:10:33.120 --> 00:10:36.559 certain valleys, had rules about when and where you could go. 178 00:10:37.240 --> 00:10:40.679 We've forgotten those rules, but that doesn't mean they've stopped applying. 179 00:10:41.279 --> 00:10:44.320 I still pick mushrooms, but only in areas I know well, 180 00:10:44.879 --> 00:10:49.000 places close to Rhodes. I never go alone anymore, and 181 00:10:49.039 --> 00:10:51.559 when the woods go quiet, when that feeling of being 182 00:10:51.600 --> 00:10:55.960 watched gets too strong, I leave. No amount of Chanterell's 183 00:10:56.039 --> 00:10:59.320 is worth meeting whatever's out there. Sometimes I think about 184 00:10:59.360 --> 00:11:02.240 that circle of mushrooms. Wonder if it was some kind 185 00:11:02.240 --> 00:11:05.600 of ritual or message. Wonder what would have happened if 186 00:11:05.600 --> 00:11:08.519 I hadn't left food. Wonder if that was the only 187 00:11:08.559 --> 00:11:11.440 thing that saved me. But mostly I try not to 188 00:11:11.440 --> 00:11:14.360 think about it at all. Some knowledge comes with a 189 00:11:14.399 --> 00:11:17.600 price that's too high to pay. Some mysteries are better 190 00:11:17.720 --> 00:11:20.879 left unsolved. And some parts of the forest belong to 191 00:11:20.919 --> 00:11:23.360 things that were here long before us. And we'll be 192 00:11:23.399 --> 00:11:26.960 here long after we're gone. That was Janet's encounter from 193 00:11:27.000 --> 00:11:31.039 the Oregon Coast Range in twenty sixteen. What strikes me 194 00:11:31.080 --> 00:11:34.000 about her story is the deliberate nature of those structures 195 00:11:34.000 --> 00:11:37.720 she found, shelters woven into the landscape with a skill 196 00:11:37.759 --> 00:11:42.000 that suggests generations of knowledge, and that moment when she 197 00:11:42.120 --> 00:11:44.840 left food in the clearing, that might have been the 198 00:11:44.840 --> 00:11:47.360 only thing that allowed her to walk out of those woods. 199 00:11:48.200 --> 00:11:51.799 But sometimes these encounters happen in the most unlikely places. 200 00:11:52.360 --> 00:11:55.440 Our next story comes from Bill, a long haul trucker 201 00:11:55.440 --> 00:11:58.840 who spent over two decades driving the Dalton Highway in Alaska. 202 00:11:59.600 --> 00:12:01.919 If you know anything about that road, you know it's 203 00:12:01.960 --> 00:12:05.320 one of the most isolated stretches in North America. Five 204 00:12:05.399 --> 00:12:10.039 hundred miles of wilderness, ice and emptiness, the perfect place 205 00:12:10.120 --> 00:12:13.480 for something that doesn't want to be found. What Bill 206 00:12:13.519 --> 00:12:16.039 saw one September night in two thousand and eight at 207 00:12:16.039 --> 00:12:19.320 a remote pull off changed how he understood what shares 208 00:12:19.399 --> 00:12:23.919 those vast Alaskan spaces with us. The name's Bill. Been 209 00:12:24.000 --> 00:12:27.399 driving trucks in Alaska for twenty three years, mostly the 210 00:12:27.440 --> 00:12:30.879 Hall Road up to Proo Bay. Done that run hundreds 211 00:12:30.919 --> 00:12:34.919 of times in all kinds of weather, seen wolves, bears, moose, 212 00:12:35.399 --> 00:12:38.559 everything you'd expect. But what I saw in September two 213 00:12:38.600 --> 00:12:41.799 thousand and eight was different. I was hauling equipment down 214 00:12:41.840 --> 00:12:45.279 from the oil fields, heading back to Fairbanks. It's a 215 00:12:45.320 --> 00:12:48.879 long drive, about five hundred miles, most of it through 216 00:12:48.919 --> 00:12:53.120 nothing but wilderness. The Dalton Highway isn't a road for tourists. 217 00:12:53.600 --> 00:12:56.480 It's rough, isolated, and if you break down in the 218 00:12:56.519 --> 00:12:59.440 wrong spot, you could be waiting a long time for help. 219 00:13:00.320 --> 00:13:03.480 It was late, around two am, and I was somewhere 220 00:13:03.480 --> 00:13:07.799 between Coldfoot and the Yukon River. Dark as hell, no moon, 221 00:13:08.440 --> 00:13:11.720 just my headlights cutting through the black. I'd been driving 222 00:13:11.759 --> 00:13:14.440 for hours, was getting a bit drowsy, so when I 223 00:13:14.440 --> 00:13:17.039 saw what looked like a pull off, ahead. I decided 224 00:13:17.080 --> 00:13:20.639 to stop, stretch my legs, maybe catch a quick nap. 225 00:13:21.360 --> 00:13:23.279 The pull off was just a wide spot in the 226 00:13:23.360 --> 00:13:26.399 road gravel pad, may be big enough for three trucks. 227 00:13:27.159 --> 00:13:29.919 I pulled over, set the brakes, and climbed down from 228 00:13:29.960 --> 00:13:34.200 the cab. The silence up there is something else. No traffic, 229 00:13:34.559 --> 00:13:37.440 no planes, just the sound of your own breathing and 230 00:13:37.519 --> 00:13:41.000 maybe some wind in the trees. I was doing some stretches, 231 00:13:41.200 --> 00:13:43.799 working the kinks out of my back, when I noticed 232 00:13:43.840 --> 00:13:46.799 something odd. On the other side of the road. In 233 00:13:46.799 --> 00:13:51.960 the ditch was a caribou. Dead, looked fresh, not unusual 234 00:13:52.000 --> 00:13:54.960 in itself, animals get hit on the Hall road all 235 00:13:55.000 --> 00:13:58.879 the time. But the position was wrong. It wasn't sprawled 236 00:13:58.879 --> 00:14:02.639 out like a roadkill. It was arranged, laid out neat 237 00:14:02.679 --> 00:14:06.000 with its legs folded under it. I grabbed my flashlight, 238 00:14:06.320 --> 00:14:08.840 one of those big mag lights, and walked over for 239 00:14:08.879 --> 00:14:12.320 a better look. The cariboo had been placed there deliberately. 240 00:14:12.879 --> 00:14:16.039 No blood on the road, no skid marks, no damage 241 00:14:16.039 --> 00:14:20.360 that I could see, just dead and carefully positioned. That's 242 00:14:20.399 --> 00:14:24.399 when I noticed the smell, rank, like wet dog mixed 243 00:14:24.399 --> 00:14:28.519 with something rotting. I've smelled dead animals before, but this 244 00:14:28.639 --> 00:14:33.080 was different. Musker Wilder made the hair on my neck 245 00:14:33.159 --> 00:14:36.320 stand up. I swept the flashlight around, and that's when 246 00:14:36.360 --> 00:14:39.159 I saw the prints in the soft gravel on the 247 00:14:39.200 --> 00:14:42.879 shoulder leading from the trees to the cariboo. They looked 248 00:14:42.919 --> 00:14:47.559 human at first glance, five toes heel, but the size 249 00:14:47.600 --> 00:14:50.639 was impossible. My boot is a size twelve, and these 250 00:14:50.679 --> 00:14:53.960 prints made mine look like a child's. I followed the 251 00:14:53.960 --> 00:14:56.559 tracks with my light. They came out of the forest, 252 00:14:56.799 --> 00:14:59.519 went to the cariboo, then headed back into the trees 253 00:14:59.559 --> 00:15:03.639 on a different path, and stay tuned for more sasquatch 254 00:15:03.639 --> 00:15:06.200 ot to see. We'll be right back. After these messages, 255 00:15:10.720 --> 00:15:13.240 whatever made them walked upright and had a stride that 256 00:15:13.320 --> 00:15:15.840 must have been close to six feet. I should have 257 00:15:15.840 --> 00:15:18.919 gotten back in my truck right then, but truck drivers 258 00:15:18.960 --> 00:15:21.960 are curious people. You don't last in this job if 259 00:15:21.960 --> 00:15:25.799 you're easily spooked. So I kept looking around, trying to 260 00:15:25.840 --> 00:15:28.960 make sense of what I was seeing. About ten yards 261 00:15:29.000 --> 00:15:32.480 into the tree line, I found more evidence. Branches broken 262 00:15:32.519 --> 00:15:36.080 at about eight feet high, some twisted until the wood splintered, 263 00:15:36.559 --> 00:15:38.559 and hanging from one of the broken branches was a 264 00:15:38.559 --> 00:15:43.120 clump of hair, dark brown, coarse, about six inches long. 265 00:15:43.759 --> 00:15:46.320 I reached up to touch it, then thought better of it. 266 00:15:46.960 --> 00:15:50.480 That's when I heard the breathing, deep rhythmic breathing coming 267 00:15:50.519 --> 00:15:54.240 from somewhere in the darkness beyond my flashlight beam. Not 268 00:15:54.360 --> 00:15:57.639 like a bear, I know what bears sound like. This 269 00:15:57.799 --> 00:16:03.240 was deeper, more controlled, like bellows working. I backed up slowly, 270 00:16:03.679 --> 00:16:07.240 keeping the light pointed toward the sound. The breathing followed, 271 00:16:07.519 --> 00:16:10.639 staying just outside the range of my beam. I could 272 00:16:10.639 --> 00:16:14.480 hear footsteps, now heavy and deliberate, pacing me as I 273 00:16:14.519 --> 00:16:17.639 retreated toward the road. When I got to the gravel, 274 00:16:17.879 --> 00:16:21.360 I turned and walked quickly toward my truck, not running. 275 00:16:21.759 --> 00:16:25.440 Something told me running would be bad. The footsteps stopped 276 00:16:25.440 --> 00:16:28.840 at the tree line, but the breathing continued. I could 277 00:16:28.840 --> 00:16:32.240 feel eyes on me, that primitive sensation that says you're 278 00:16:32.320 --> 00:16:35.759 being watched by something that might eat you. I climbed 279 00:16:35.840 --> 00:16:38.960 up into my cab, locked the doors, and started the engine. 280 00:16:39.639 --> 00:16:42.320 As I put it in gear, my headlights swept across 281 00:16:42.320 --> 00:16:46.360 the trees. For just a second, I saw it standing 282 00:16:46.440 --> 00:16:50.519 between two spruces, maybe forty feet away. It was massive, 283 00:16:51.080 --> 00:16:54.679 had to be eight feet tall, probably more covered in 284 00:16:54.759 --> 00:16:57.879 dark hair that looked black in the lights. The body 285 00:16:57.919 --> 00:17:01.840 was built like a man, but way bigger, shoulders too broad, arms, 286 00:17:01.879 --> 00:17:05.359 too long, everything out of proportion. The face was what 287 00:17:05.480 --> 00:17:09.119 got me, heavy brow, deep set eyes that reflected my 288 00:17:09.240 --> 00:17:13.559 lights like a predator's, almost human features, but distorted like 289 00:17:13.640 --> 00:17:15.599 someone had grabbed a face and pulled it into a 290 00:17:15.640 --> 00:17:19.440 new shape. It didn't move, just stood there watching me, 291 00:17:20.079 --> 00:17:23.759 staring directly at me, like it was saying, I see 292 00:17:23.759 --> 00:17:26.960 you seeing me. I hit the gas got out of 293 00:17:26.960 --> 00:17:29.920 there fast as a loaded truck could go, didn't stop 294 00:17:29.920 --> 00:17:33.039 again until I reached the Yukon River camp, sixty miles south. 295 00:17:33.759 --> 00:17:35.960 When I pulled in, the guy at the fuel station 296 00:17:36.079 --> 00:17:39.000 took one look at me and asked what happened. I 297 00:17:39.039 --> 00:17:41.680 guess I looked pretty shook up. I told him I'd 298 00:17:41.680 --> 00:17:44.440 seen something weird up the road. He nodded like he 299 00:17:44.519 --> 00:17:47.960 knew exactly what I meant. Said. They get reports sometimes, 300 00:17:48.519 --> 00:17:53.319 truckers seeing things, hunters finding tracks, pipeline workers hearing sounds 301 00:17:53.319 --> 00:17:57.279 they can't explain. Unofficially, everyone knows there's something out there. 302 00:17:57.839 --> 00:18:02.240 Officially it's always bears or wool or over active imaginations. 303 00:18:02.640 --> 00:18:05.640 He told me, I was lucky. Usually they stay away 304 00:18:05.640 --> 00:18:09.319 from the road, keep to the deep wilderness, but sometimes, 305 00:18:09.599 --> 00:18:13.039 especially in fall, when they're moving around more, they come close. 306 00:18:13.960 --> 00:18:17.160 The Cariboo was probably a territorial marker, a way of 307 00:18:17.200 --> 00:18:20.839 saying this is their area. I finished the run to Fairbanks, 308 00:18:21.039 --> 00:18:24.759 filed my paperwork, went home, but I couldn't stop thinking 309 00:18:24.759 --> 00:18:29.799 about what I'd seen. Started asking around quiet like found 310 00:18:29.799 --> 00:18:32.880 out there's a whole history of sidings up there. Native 311 00:18:32.880 --> 00:18:36.559 peoples have stories going back forever. The pipeline workers in 312 00:18:36.599 --> 00:18:39.559 the seventies had encounters. They were told not to report. 313 00:18:40.400 --> 00:18:43.240 Other truckers had seen things, but kept quiet to avoid 314 00:18:43.279 --> 00:18:47.240 being labeled crazy. One old timer told me something interesting. 315 00:18:47.720 --> 00:18:52.119 He said, they're migratory, following the Cariboo herds spring and fall, 316 00:18:52.200 --> 00:18:55.440 they moved through certain areas. The Hall Road cut right 317 00:18:55.480 --> 00:18:58.319 through one of their travel routes. That's why most sidings 318 00:18:58.359 --> 00:19:02.039 happened in September and April. He also said they're smart, 319 00:19:02.119 --> 00:19:05.839 they know about trucks. No, we're just passing through. As 320 00:19:05.880 --> 00:19:08.119 long as we don't stop too long in their territory, 321 00:19:08.400 --> 00:19:12.200 they leave us alone. But sometimes they get curious, want 322 00:19:12.240 --> 00:19:15.720 a closer look. That's what happened to me, I stopped 323 00:19:15.720 --> 00:19:18.160 in the wrong place at the wrong time, and one 324 00:19:18.200 --> 00:19:21.880 came to investigate. I've done that run probably one hundred 325 00:19:21.880 --> 00:19:25.039 times since then, never stopped at that pull off again, 326 00:19:25.599 --> 00:19:29.519 never seen another one. But sometimes, especially on those dark 327 00:19:29.599 --> 00:19:33.519 September nights, I'll see something in the trees, a shape 328 00:19:33.559 --> 00:19:37.680 that's too tall, movement that's too fluid. I keep driving, 329 00:19:38.079 --> 00:19:41.759 don't even slow down. Other truckers have their own stories, 330 00:19:42.160 --> 00:19:46.319 rocks thrown at trucks, woodpiles arranged in patterns, sounds that 331 00:19:46.359 --> 00:19:50.119 don't match any known animal. We all know something's out there, 332 00:19:50.599 --> 00:19:53.920 but it's an unspoken rule. You don't report it, you 333 00:19:53.960 --> 00:19:56.480 don't make a big deal about it. You just drive 334 00:19:56.799 --> 00:19:59.720 and let them have their space. Because here's the thing. 335 00:20:00.200 --> 00:20:04.240 They were there first, long before the pipeline, before the road, 336 00:20:04.799 --> 00:20:08.480 before any of us. We're the ones passing through their territory, 337 00:20:09.000 --> 00:20:11.519 and as long as we keep moving, they seem content 338 00:20:11.640 --> 00:20:14.519 to let us pass. But I'll never forget that face 339 00:20:14.519 --> 00:20:18.559 in my headlights, the intelligence in those eyes, the way 340 00:20:18.559 --> 00:20:21.640 it stared directly at me, like it was acknowledging our 341 00:20:21.680 --> 00:20:24.960 brief moment of contact. It changed how I see the 342 00:20:25.000 --> 00:20:28.559 wilderness up there, changed how I understand what shares this 343 00:20:28.720 --> 00:20:32.000 land with us. Now, when I drive that stretch of road, 344 00:20:32.359 --> 00:20:36.039 I'm more careful. I don't stop unless I absolutely have to. 345 00:20:36.799 --> 00:20:39.200 And when the darkness presses in and the trees seem 346 00:20:39.279 --> 00:20:42.000 to close around the road, I remember that we're not 347 00:20:42.079 --> 00:20:46.440 alone out there, never have been, never will be. Some 348 00:20:46.519 --> 00:20:49.480 things are meant to stay hidden, some boundaries aren't meant 349 00:20:49.480 --> 00:20:52.839 to be crossed, and some mysteries are better left unsolved. 350 00:20:53.599 --> 00:20:55.720 That's what I learned that night on the Dalton Highway. 351 00:20:56.359 --> 00:20:58.480 That's what I remember every time I make that run. 352 00:20:59.240 --> 00:21:01.960 The wilderness up there is vast empty in a way 353 00:21:02.039 --> 00:21:05.359 most people can't imagine. Plenty of room for things we 354 00:21:05.400 --> 00:21:08.720 don't understand, plenty of space for creatures that know how 355 00:21:08.759 --> 00:21:12.640 to stay hidden when they want to. I'm retiring next year. 356 00:21:13.240 --> 00:21:16.359 Thirty years of driving these roads is enough. Part of 357 00:21:16.400 --> 00:21:21.279 me will miss it, the solitude, the beauty, the challenge. 358 00:21:21.400 --> 00:21:24.359 But I won't miss those night runs through that particular stretch. 359 00:21:25.079 --> 00:21:27.640 Won't miss the feeling of being watched from the darkness 360 00:21:27.640 --> 00:21:31.640 beyond my lights. Because they're out there, whatever they are, 361 00:21:31.920 --> 00:21:34.559 they're real, and the best thing we can do is 362 00:21:34.599 --> 00:21:37.160 give them their space and hope they continue to give 363 00:21:37.240 --> 00:21:41.000 us hours. Bill's encounter on the Dalton Highway shows us 364 00:21:41.039 --> 00:21:45.480 something important. These beings are everywhere, from the Oregon forests 365 00:21:45.640 --> 00:21:50.200 to the Alaskan tundra. That caribou arranged so carefully, those 366 00:21:50.200 --> 00:21:53.559 massive footprints in the gravel, and that moment when Bill's 367 00:21:53.559 --> 00:21:57.599 headlights caught it watching him. It's the intelligence behind these 368 00:21:57.640 --> 00:22:00.480 actions that makes you realize we're dealing with something far 369 00:22:00.519 --> 00:22:04.519 more complex than any known animal, Which brings me to 370 00:22:04.599 --> 00:22:08.240 Rachel's story. She was a Forest Service crew leader in Montana, 371 00:22:08.680 --> 00:22:10.960 someone who'd spent more nights in the back country than 372 00:22:11.000 --> 00:22:15.400 most people spend in their own beds. In July twenty twelve, 373 00:22:15.599 --> 00:22:18.319 she and her crew helicoptered into the Cellway bitter Root 374 00:22:18.400 --> 00:22:21.039 Wilderness for what should have been a routine week of 375 00:22:21.079 --> 00:22:24.920 trail maintenance. But when something started visiting their camp at night, 376 00:22:25.440 --> 00:22:29.559 examining their gear, rearranging their equipment, and making sounds that 377 00:22:29.599 --> 00:22:33.759 seemed almost like language, Rachel realized they'd set up camp 378 00:22:33.799 --> 00:22:37.480 in someone else's territory. I worked for the Forest Service 379 00:22:37.519 --> 00:22:41.039 for twelve years, mostly in the Bitterroot National Forest along 380 00:22:41.079 --> 00:22:45.000 the Montana Idaho border. Did everything from trail maintenance to 381 00:22:45.079 --> 00:22:48.039 fire prevention. Spent more nights in the back country than 382 00:22:48.079 --> 00:22:51.319 I did in my own bed. The name's Rachel, and 383 00:22:51.359 --> 00:22:55.079 what happened in July twenty twelve made me rethink everything 384 00:22:55.119 --> 00:22:58.519 I thought I knew about those mountains. I was thirty four, 385 00:22:58.599 --> 00:23:02.319 then crew leader for a trail maintenance team. We were 386 00:23:02.359 --> 00:23:04.920 working on a section of trail about fifteen miles from 387 00:23:04.960 --> 00:23:08.880 the nearest road way back in the Cellway bitter Root Wilderness. 388 00:23:09.240 --> 00:23:13.359 It's rough country, steep terrain, thick forest, the kind of 389 00:23:13.359 --> 00:23:16.200 place where you can walk for days without seeing another human. 390 00:23:17.079 --> 00:23:20.599 There were four of us on the crew, me, Jake, Marcus, 391 00:23:20.640 --> 00:23:25.279 and Annie, all experienced backcountry workers. We'd helicopter in on 392 00:23:25.359 --> 00:23:28.440 Monday with our gear, work all week, clearing deadfall and 393 00:23:28.480 --> 00:23:32.759 repairing washouts, then hike out Friday. It was hard work 394 00:23:32.960 --> 00:23:36.440 but satisfying, and I loved being that far from civilization. 395 00:23:37.400 --> 00:23:39.720 This particular week, we set up base camp near a 396 00:23:39.759 --> 00:23:44.480 small alpine lake, beautiful spot surrounded by lodge pole pines, 397 00:23:44.799 --> 00:23:48.839 peaks rising all around. We'd work this area before, knew 398 00:23:48.880 --> 00:23:53.480 it well or thought we did. Tuesday night, things got weird. 399 00:23:54.240 --> 00:23:56.920 We were sitting around after dinner planning the next day's 400 00:23:56.920 --> 00:24:00.359 work when Jake noticed something. He'd hung his path from 401 00:24:00.359 --> 00:24:03.720