Speaker 1: I'm now sixty three and I live in Central British Columbia, Canada.
When I was fifteen, I lived in Toronto, Ontario. I
attended the Canadian National Exhibition. They had an exhibit of
what I later learned was the Minnesota Iceman. It was
frozen in a freezer. The face and partial front was exposed.
Signs were everywhere for me not to touch, do not
touch was everywhere. I was a rebellious teen and I
ignored the signs and touched it anyway. Immediately the hair
went up on the back of my neck. It felt
like semi frozen meat, like a roast. I knew it
was not latex or rubber. This started my interest in bigfoot,
and after much reading, I had a good knowledge of
the subject. That was all back in the mid nineteen seventies.
In the year two thousand, I was a prospector and
my interest at the time was searching for the lost
lemon mine. I met an aging prospector from Crow's Nest
Pass who had a sample of ore with silver in it.
He directed me to a valley on the border of
Alberta and British Columbia, and with my father in law,
we made the trip into the valley. We made camp
the first night and continued the next day into a
bowl high up into the crest of the rockies. I
climbed further with the sample in my hand, while my
father in law waited in the bowl below. Upon reaching
near the crest of the mountains, there was a huge cave.
The opening was twelve foot by thirty foot wide. At
least this place took my breath away. I was in
awe at the size of the cave and the colors.
Everything was green inside in all indifferent shades. My attention
was drawn to several horizontal tunnels into the rock that
in itself is not strange, but on closer inspection, each
hole had been lined with dry animal hides. The hides
appeared to be deer and were curled, like when you
throw a hide in your yard and it dries. For
years I pondered the thought of why the hides were there.
These hides would have to be replaced from time to time.
Rodents or insects would eat the hides, especially through the
winter months. In later years I came to the conclusion
that this was indeed a Bigfoot cave. What else would
have that kind of intelligence. I planned to return, but
I never did. This cave is not easy to access,
and I believe the Bigfoot would know of your approach
long before you arrived, and your window of escape would
be nonexistent. I once heard a bigfoot researcher person say
only one sighting or footprint has to be real for
their existence to be real. My ten year old son
and I were walking around a two hundred and fifty
acre state park in Connecticut with our dog. People don't
often relate Connecticut with sasquatch, and neither did I until
I had my first experience several years ago. Since then,
I have spotted or seen signs or heard sasquatch around
me on walking trails, sometimes on popular ponds, and even
in my own backyard. I realized now that I had
heard them and seen signs all throughout my childhood, but
I didn't know what I was hearing or seeing. But
I know now there are places in Connecticut, which overall
is heavily forested, where sasquatch could go to get away
from most humans if they wanted to. However, all four
seasons I have seen them here locally in south central Connecticut,
thirty minutes from the shore and smack dab next to
a bustling college town in my town is a well
known apple and fruit orchard not far from me, where
I suppose any sasquatch would grab a snack. I get
the feeling that, like coadies and bears, maybe sasquatch have
some codependence on humans and our garden crops or garbage.
The day of this encounter, I did not see the sasquatch,
but I saw what I believe one did. My son
and I were out for a walk in the manicured
park of this two hundred and fifty acre area is
a place with a river and a swimming hole, sandy beaches,
charcoal pits, and picnic tables. These things only take up
a tiny fraction of the park, which has two natural
waterfalls and dozens of hiking trails. Son and I, along
with our dog. We're walking along the river and crossed
over a bridge to the other side where no one
really ever goes. There's an overgrown trail there that winds
through the woods right alongside the river and then across
from the river. At a certain point, a high steep
ridge rises up above. I've always been leary of going
to this park. I've seen sasquatch in this park on
the opposite side, but I imagine first that they're all
over the park to begin with, and especially this spot
because there's less human foot traffic. Plus this spot just
has a creepy feel. With that said, I was curious
to enter the woods just a few feet from the field,
and we had to cross to access it to look
around for sasquatch clues. Maybe five hundred feet away. Through
just a little bit of woods and field, we'd be
back at the car, and it seems safe to do.
We crossed the field and followed the river into the
woods of ways until we found a swampy small tributary
to the river that we wanted to explore. It really
looked like a swamp hole. It was long and narrow,
like a creek too. As usual when a predator or
a sasquatch is around, the birds went silent, and I
got that we need to leave intuition, so we abandoned
our exploration of the creek and turned around to go
back the way we came. My dog, a border aussy mix,
was on a leash, as she loves to run in
circles and she's always a little awkward to manage when
she's not running free. As I tried to turn her around,
she dropped down on some exposed dark soil, and she
began to roll. Oh great, I thought, But when she
stood up, we didn't see anything she would normally find
worth rolling in. And then among all the plants and
grasses carpeting the forest floor, here we saw a horrific sight.
Against a tree was a tight rabbit nest made of brambles,
and in front of that nest a mangled mass of
flesh and bone and fur. By the fur and the nest,
I could tell it was a rabbit, although it was
in such a state that it would otherwise be unrecognizable.
It looked like something or someone turned this rabbit inside
out like a winter coat. We stood there, shocked, and
despite my knowledge of sasquatch in the area, my mind
raced through an inventory of possibilities. Who attacked this rabbit?
Was it a coatie, a bobcat, a cougar, maybe a fox.
There was very little blood to see, but I remember
seeing its perfectly intact flesh with only the pelt pulled outside,
albeit mangled like. Maybe whatever killed it did so by
twisting its whole body. And then it hit me. Everything
was still. It hadn't been eaten. It was just in
front of its den too. So now I was imagining
that something pulled it straight from its nest and then
killed it and mutilated it, and then just left the
whole thing right there where it died. This didn't make
any sense. And then it struck me. Was this a
warning from a sasquatch signaling us to do not enter
to this area? I couldn't help but feel it was so. However,
the woods were so quiet when we arrived in this area.
We heard no animals coming or going, no scuffle, no
sounds of an animal in mortal distress. I'm not sure
when the rabbit was killed, but I couldn't see how
any animal could have contorted the body that way, and
then also that the predator had not run off with
their kill to eat it. I know sasquatch does not
want us to know they are there. The ones in
this park know I'm aware of them. I can't confirm it,
but whole dartedly believe that poor dead rabbit was a sasquatch.
No trespassing sign the strength this creature must have had
to kill a rabbit with its bare hands and mangle.
It is incredibly frightening, which I guess is the point.
It's like the sasquat saying, see what I can do,
and it wanted to keep me away, just how it escaped.
Our notice showcases a true talent and stealth. I don't
believe for a minute that all sasquatches are warm and fuzzy,
even when staying quietly out of your way. I believe
they are unpredictable, and some are territorial and aggressive, and,
knowing that nothing else matters, always assume the worst while
praying for the best. In the end, our little exploration
was a success because we got the signs of a
sasquatch that we were looking for. It's just that this
was a sad sign we were not expecting, and that
related to me the curiousness of how badly they want
to remain anonymous. The question is can they be dangerous?
So should they be allowed to remain anonymous? I don't
believe so. However, the FEDS will never fess up, will they.
My name is Andrew, and you can use my name
for this encounter. This is quite a lengthy story, and
I apologize in advance. This happened in August of this year,
so it's still quite vivid and fresh. A little background.
My best buddy and I have been best friends for
seventeen years, and we were avid campers and outdoorsmen all
through high school. We knew almost everything there is to
know and did almost everything there was to do in
the great outdoors. Camping was second nature to us. After
high school. In twenty eleven, my friend's parents divorced and
he and his mother moved back to Europe, where he
was born. Last year, my buddy moved back here to Canada.
It was amazing. The eight years he was away seemed
like a week. It was an immediate rebond and we
picked up exactly where we left off. Last summer, we
really wanted to go on an epic camping trip, just
like the old times. However, our schedules and life in
general got in the way. So we planned our epic
trip and dedicated time to camp this past summer. August
had finally come and despite COVID, we were determined that
absolutely nothing was going to ruin our trip. So we
threw caution to the wind and we decided to pack
our gear and prepared for our lengthy drive from Ontario
to British Columbia. Along our travels, we talked about many subjects,
and it was at dinner I had mentioned your YouTube
channel to my friend. He asked me if I believed
in sosquatch and I told him my sir do, and
he looked at me in a strange way for a
moment over his coffee cup. That I could believe in
such a creature was crazy to him, But after talking
with him further, he was more open minded about such
creatures roaming the forests. We arrived at our destination and
hiked deep into the forest. We were a little ways
in and my friend stopped and started looking around. He
told me that he felt uncomfortable, like we were being watched.
I chuckled it off and said, we've just been driving
for hours, you're tired. He looked at me, shrugged and said,
you're right, probably just my imagination. We got to a
spot we liked and immediately started setting up our camp.
Halfway through, my friend stopped and started scanning the area
in front of the tent. He said he swore that
he saw something large and upright moving down the path.
I told him to start a fire and brew some coffee,
and he did that without hesitation. After our coffee and
beef jerky dinner, we could hardly keep our eyes open,
so we left the fire burning and we went to bed.
I don't know how long I had been asleep, but
my friend was shaking the crap out of me to
wake up. He told me he had awakened to go
to the bathroom and was just about to unzip the
tent when he was hit with the scent of vomit, skunk,
and rotten meat, followed by seeing a large shadow of
something by pedal cast over the side of the tent.
I told him it was probably some other campers nearby
that were messing around with us. My friend asked me
to go outside to look before he peed. You go first.
I unzipped the tent, popped my head out, and I
started coughing. That scent he was talking about was still
lingering in the air, but after scanning the area and
seeing nothing, I said, everything's clear. The next day came
and went without incident. By four pm, my friend was
starting to get a fire going and I was preparing
that night's dinner. Half an hour later, the food was
over the fire cooking and it smelled good, and we
were relaxing, laughing, and enjoying some great German beer. Suddenly
both of us became overwhelmed with the feeling that we
were being watched. The air started filling with a musty
right scent that kept coming and going all throughout dinner.
We searched for something, but we couldn't find the source
of that scent, and it finally went away as mysteriously
as it had come. Bedtime finally came, so we hung
the garbage bags high in the tree before turning in.
I had trouble falling asleep that night, so I just
laid there listening to the forest sounds. I was just
starting to doze off and I noticed that it got
very quiet. Then I heard the sound of a twig
snap not too far from the front of the tent.
I got uncomfortable and I felt like we were being watched,
so I quietly sat up with a heightened sense of hearing.
I heard the sound of sniffing slightly to the right
of the tent where the garbage was hanging. My eyes
started to water, and that putrid smell returned. My friend
stirred and noticed me sitting up. Before he could say anything,
I put my finger to my lips and I softly
said ssh, and I pointed in the direction of the garbage.
My friend sat up, curious and confused. We listened for
a moment. We heard what sounded like the garbage bag
slowly being squeezed. I slowly moved to the door as
quietly as possible, unzipping the screen flap and looking over
in the direction that we heard the noises. Unfortunately, it
was too dark to see anything, and I re zipped
the flap and hearing nothing further, we went back to sleep.
The next morning, while my friend was brewing coffee and
I was getting dressed, my friend called my name and
told me to come quick. I rushed out of the
tent and I saw my friend pointing up. The garbage
bags were gone, but the ropes were still attached to
the tree and dangling over the branch ten feet up.
We searched the areas around the site a little bit better,
but we had no success in finding our garbage bags.
That night, we turned in early because we had a
very busy and eventful day ahead. We were talking when
all of a sudden, something small hit the tent. It
was just a little plink sound. It sounded like a
rain drop, so I closed the roof flaps, thinking it
was going to rain. Plink, plink plink. Then that was
it for about ten minutes, and then plank something through
a decent sized rock at the tent, and we looked
at each other with eyes wide But we then decided
to ignore it, thinking whoever was throwing the rocks would
give up and go away, so we turned off the
lamp and we went to sleep. Sometime later that night,
another rock was thrown at the tent, and then another.
At this point, my friend finally had enough. He got
up and went outside and he yelled, whoever that is,
throw another rock and I'm gonna break your eyes. That
was that, and no more activity happened that night or
the next. On our last night of camping, we were
up late sitting around the roaring campfire, just enjoying life.
It really was nice, and then we heard a big splash.
Something huge and heavy was either thrown or jumped into
the water just down the path from our site. My
friend and I looked at one another with white eyes. Again.
My friend was just about to say something when suddenly
he heard a rapid splashing like something quickly walked looking
through the water. The splashing stopped suddenly, and we turned
and intensely stared at the path, expecting to see someone
or something approach us, but we never saw anything. A
little while later, I had to go to the bathroom
and my friend said he did too. He got up
and grabbed the flashlight from the tent, and he said,
after we go, let's go down and check the water.
After emptying our bladders off, we went to the water's
edge to do some investigation. We scanned the water in
surrounding areas, but nothing immediately stood out. However, as we
turned to go back up the path in the mud
by the water, my friend noticed a smudged impression and
noted that this looks like a smudged footprint. As we
were approaching camp, both of us were stuck with an
uncomfortable feeling. When we got back to our area, the
air was thick with that vomit skunk rotting. You guys
have the best descriptions for some of these smells. I'm sorry,
I just think it's so funny. Rotten skunk rotting, stinky feet,
Oh man, it's so good. My friend pointed to the
tent and he said the tent is open, and I
said were You were the last one in there, but
I know for certain you closed it. After going through
our things to make sure nothing was stolen, we decided
to get some sleep, as tomorrow we were going to
disassemble everything and make our way back to Ontario again.
We let the fire burn as we drifted off to sleep.
Later that night, I was awakened by footsteps coming from
behind the tent. It was pacing left and right. I
must have drifted back to sleep, because later I was
awakened by my friend, who was trying to keep from panicking.
He was sitting up away from the side of the tent,
with his left hand covering his mouth and with his
right hand pointing to the back of the tent, the
same direction I had heard the footsteps earlier. By this time,
the fire had died out and it was silent. It
was eerily silent. I too, sat up and I listened snap.
A good sized twig broke as something approached the tent.
By this time my friend was biting his finger and
doing anything not to panic, And then we heard the
sniffing coming from behind the tent. I slowly moved away
from the back wall, and in what little light from
the moon there was, we saw a shadow of something
starting to lean over the tent, just as something pushed
into it. My only guess is this was a foot,
because it was at the very bottom of the tent.
It was quiet for a moment before hearing the groaning sound,
and then suddenly both sides of the tent were being
pushed in. The canvas of the tent was forming around
massive hands, I mean massive hands. Suddenly my friend just
let Lusia scream like a child who had just broke
his favorite toy. It was ear piercingly loud. Almost immediately
the creature stopped pushing in on the tent. After a moment,
we heard what I can only describe as a freight
train crashing through the forest. We didn't sleep anymore that night,
and we waited until first light to pack up and
then we left. The walk from our site to the
car was most uncomfortable. We had the feeling of watchful
eyes coming from every direction. We quickly packed the car
and drove to the nearest motel to get some RESTful
shut eye. When we woke up, we did some research
and realized that that part of British Columbia is a
hot bed for sisquatch activity. I always knew that British
Columbia had a lot of sasquatch activity, and the whole
time this was happening to us, it never crossed my
mind that it could be sisquatch. It's just something I
never thought what happened to me. My friend and I
aren't deterred because of the experience, and we plan on
going camping again next summer. But since August, my friend
has become very interested in sisquatch and he's a big
fan of your channel.