Speaker 1: My brothers love to hunt in fish. They have thousands
Speaker 1: of dollars invested in gear. When hunting season is out,
Speaker 1: they're fishing. I like fishing, but not to the degree
Speaker 1: that they do. Now. I don't hunt. I have never
Speaker 1: enjoyed killing animals. I have nothing against hunting at all.
Speaker 1: It's a great way for people to enjoy the outdoors,
Speaker 1: gather clean meat, manage wildlife populations. But it's just not
Speaker 1: for me. My brothers make fun of me for this.
Speaker 1: That's okay, Well I do mind, I guess, but I
Speaker 1: don't let them know it. It's not that I don't
Speaker 1: like being in nature. My thing is hiking, and if
Speaker 1: any one of them would take a minute to notice,
Speaker 1: they'd all see that I hike a lot deeper into
Speaker 1: the woods than any of them ever hunted. I don't
Speaker 1: carry weapons. I only carry bear spray. I know the truth, though,
Speaker 1: I know that I go farther and harder than any
Speaker 1: of them just to take long walks in the woods.
Speaker 1: In their minds, the fact that they kill animals with weapons,
Speaker 1: they're more macho than I am. But I know for
Speaker 1: a fact that none of them could keep up with
Speaker 1: me for even a half day. Hike. I can outperform
Speaker 1: any of them, but I never say a word. Hiking
Speaker 1: is my favorite thing to do in my favorite places
Speaker 1: in the woods alone, just me and the trails and
Speaker 1: the animals and the fresh air. In my endurance, I
Speaker 1: come alive out there, or I did until last month.
Speaker 1: Now I don't care if I ever go into the
Speaker 1: woods again. There are monsters in the woods, folks, I
Speaker 1: have seen them. Fall is a busy hiking season. Everyone
Speaker 1: wants to see the trees in full color. And if
Speaker 1: you're serious about hiking, like I am or what it means,
Speaker 1: you have to go pretty deep in the woods to
Speaker 1: get away from the day hikers. Otherwise you're just going
Speaker 1: to be tripping over the amateurs and not seeing anything
Speaker 1: because they're always so noisy that they chase animals away.
Speaker 1: And if you want to really enjoy the scenery and
Speaker 1: all that nature has to offer, then you'd better get
Speaker 1: there early, and I mean a day or two early,
Speaker 1: and plan on hiking in with your camping gear and
Speaker 1: enough supplies to stay a couple of days. I park
Speaker 1: my car at the trailhead early on Wednesday. I figured
Speaker 1: I'd hike up for two days and then hike back
Speaker 1: down for two days and be home in my own
Speaker 1: bed by Sunday night and ready for work on Monday.
Speaker 1: Always check the weather before I leave, and then I
Speaker 1: do a gear check. Now I'm an ultra light hiker
Speaker 1: with a hammock and a light down sleeping bag, a
Speaker 1: microstove in just enough calories that I need to go
Speaker 1: as far as I like to go. I carry a
Speaker 1: change of clothes, a compass, a first date kitting, a knife.
Speaker 1: The less I carry, the lighter my backpack is, which
Speaker 1: means I can go farther. Hikers who are in shape
Speaker 1: and condition like me can run out of steam pretty
Speaker 1: fast with an extra heavy pack. I've seen them leave
Speaker 1: the trail many times just because their packs are too heavy,
Speaker 1: and a man learns to get by with a little.
Speaker 1: And the goal is not the gear, it's the trail.
Speaker 1: This is something my brothers will never understand, their gear freaks.
Speaker 1: I had picked a difficult trail to hike because I
Speaker 1: knew there weren't a lot of day hikers. It's only
Speaker 1: well maintained for the first couple of miles, and after
Speaker 1: that you have to know what you're doing to go
Speaker 1: any further. I was headed all the way to the
Speaker 1: top of this mountain. So I checked my watch and
Speaker 1: I stepped onto the trail. It was seven forty three
Speaker 1: am at noon. I stopped for a break and to
Speaker 1: take in the view of the valley below me. The
Speaker 1: trees had been bit this year. It was already a
Speaker 1: blaze of reds and golds, with bright splotches of yellow
Speaker 1: and dark patches of brown. There's something about sitting up
Speaker 1: there looking down on the world. A lot of people
Speaker 1: say it's humbling, but not for me. For me, it's empowering.
Speaker 1: By the time I set up camp the first night,
Speaker 1: civilization felt like another planet away. I picked a small
Speaker 1: clearing that gave me a decent but limited view of
Speaker 1: the night sky. The weather man assured me that I
Speaker 1: would have clear sailing, and he was right. If you've
Speaker 1: ever seen the sky without light pollution, you've never really
Speaker 1: seen the sky. I went ahead and ate a couple
Speaker 1: of power bars and drank some water, and I climbed
Speaker 1: into my hammock. Now nothing wears a body out like
Speaker 1: a long walk. I figured I'd be asleep within minutes,
Speaker 1: and I probably would have, but for one thing. It
Speaker 1: was too quiet. And when you go as far as this.
Speaker 1: There's also the absence of sound pollution. You can't hear
Speaker 1: cars and diesels rolling down the interstate. You can't hear
Speaker 1: radios blasting music, or people chattering or kids playing, because
Speaker 1: it's just you out there. But even then there is
Speaker 1: always some sort of noise. There's insects and small critters
Speaker 1: and coyotes. I was lying there in my hammock that night,
Speaker 1: I didn't hear any of that. It was so weird
Speaker 1: that it made me a bit nervous to make matters worse.
Speaker 1: And maybe because of that, I started feeling like I
Speaker 1: was being watched, and I didn't sleep well that night.
Speaker 1: The next morning, I discovered that the weather man had
Speaker 1: lied to me. The brilliant blue sky I had hiked
Speaker 1: under the day before was turning gray. So I had
Speaker 1: to make a decision. I could continue my hike up
Speaker 1: on the mountain, or I could turn around and head
Speaker 1: back down. The third option was to stay where I
Speaker 1: was and then head down the next day. I hadn't
Speaker 1: slept well the night before and had to do with
Speaker 1: my decision. I didn't feel like going anywhere. I felt
Speaker 1: like sleeping a few more hours, so option three it was.
Speaker 1: I made some coffee, and I ate a power bar
Speaker 1: before climbing back into my hammock. I lay there and
Speaker 1: broad daylight, still conscious of the fact that there were
Speaker 1: no normal sounds of nature around me. But by now
Speaker 1: the sky was dark enough and the clouds overhead were
Speaker 1: full enough that I figured it was the rain coming
Speaker 1: in that had kept them silent. After a while, I
Speaker 1: decided that I wasn't going to sleep, and the sky
Speaker 1: was looking bad enough that I should try to get
Speaker 1: as far down the mountain as I could before the
Speaker 1: clouds burst open and drenched me. It was around noon
Speaker 1: when I started back down the mountain, but the sky
Speaker 1: was as dark as dusk. To be safe, I had
Speaker 1: already pulled out my headlamp from my backpack and I
Speaker 1: was wearing it. Then the rain came. It didn't start
Speaker 1: with a sprinkle, the heavy drops and then a solid
Speaker 1: sheet of rain. It came down all at once, as
Speaker 1: if God had dumped a bucket of water on me.
Speaker 1: Usually when it rains a heart it doesn't last for long,
Speaker 1: but I must have walked for an hour in that downpour.
Speaker 1: It wasn't long before I began to feel like my
Speaker 1: bone marrow was saturated, my eyes burned from constantly wiping them,
Speaker 1: and the damn headlight began to short out the sound
Speaker 1: of the rain beating the leaves off the trees, drowned
Speaker 1: out all the other sounds in the forest. I don't
Speaker 1: really know what I expected to hear in this weather.
Speaker 1: Any creature with any common sense at all was holed
Speaker 1: up in a den somewhere. But every now and then
Speaker 1: I heard a crack of a branch that I didn't
Speaker 1: think was caused by the storm. Maybe it was like
Speaker 1: a sleep from the night before, and maybe I was
Speaker 1: just weirded out by the weather. Whatever the case, I
Speaker 1: could not get over the feeling that I was still
Speaker 1: being watched and followed. When I couldn't take it anymore,
Speaker 1: I started looking for a good spot to wade out
Speaker 1: the rain. I was hoping for a cave, but even
Speaker 1: a wide spot on the trail where I could hang
Speaker 1: up my hammocked tarp would have been good enough for me.
Speaker 1: Looking around and seeing shadows in the woods freaked me
Speaker 1: out a little. Occasionally lightning would strike and I'd see
Speaker 1: something large moving. At first I would think it was
Speaker 1: a tree, but then it would move, and then a
Speaker 1: bolt of lightning crack the sky open and I saw it.
Speaker 1: I've never believed in bigfoot. It was a joke to me,
Speaker 1: and I had not thought about it ever. So what
Speaker 1: was standing in the woods twenty feet from me? It
Speaker 1: was ten feet tall, covered in shaggy brown hair, except
Speaker 1: its face was clean looking. The size of the thing
Speaker 1: was scary enough, but it was the face that scared
Speaker 1: me the most. Its skin was dark, and its mouth
Speaker 1: was wide, and it's an oscar seemed to be flaring
Speaker 1: like it was angry, and I locked eyes with it
Speaker 1: and saw something that I can't quite put my finger on.
Speaker 1: It didn't take long to decide that this thing wanted
Speaker 1: to kill me and eat me. That was plain to see.
Speaker 1: It opened its mouth like it was stretching its jaws,
Speaker 1: its fangs hung down like a baboon. I'm sure you've
Speaker 1: seen the pictures of the videos. It wasn't a yawn.
Speaker 1: He was showing me his teeth. My head would have
Speaker 1: fit into his mouth. And that's when panics set in.
Speaker 1: I don't know when or where I dropped my backpack,
Speaker 1: but it wasn't with me anymore. The trail had turned
Speaker 1: to a mud slick. I moved my feet, I think,
Speaker 1: and there was no grip to the earth, but I
Speaker 1: ran anyway, abandoning the rules of what humans should do
Speaker 1: when facing a predator. I ran like hell. Trees started
Speaker 1: snapping and cracking behind me. Was on from that first step,
Speaker 1: and I knew I was a dead man. I wasn't
Speaker 1: thinking at all. I was just running. I felt the
Speaker 1: vibrations of his feet hitting the ground behind me, getting closer.
Speaker 1: I heard the heavy rush of air being sucked into
Speaker 1: and pushed out of its lungs, and ahead of me,
Speaker 1: the trail made a sharp turn. I knew I was
Speaker 1: going too fast in that slippery clay, but I wasn't
Speaker 1: about to slow down, so I launched myself into the
Speaker 1: woods like I was diving off into a swimming pool.
Speaker 1: It would only buy me a few feet before it
Speaker 1: caught up, but I wasn't giving up yet, and instead
Speaker 1: of hitting the ground, I was snatched backward by the
Speaker 1: shirt and this thing's nails dug into my back. It
Speaker 1: turned me around to face it, and I was fighting
Speaker 1: like hell, kicking and throwing punches. I didn't hurt this
Speaker 1: thing a bit, but I remember it squinting its eyes
Speaker 1: when I would hit it in the face. The eyes
Speaker 1: it was closing its eyes voluntarily to avoid my punches,
Speaker 1: and then I remembered the bear spray on my belt.
Speaker 1: In a fast, lucky grab, it came free from the
Speaker 1: holster and I sprayed that bastard square in the face.
Speaker 1: Apparently it released me and swung at me. At the
Speaker 1: same time I assumed to knock that can of burning
Speaker 1: the shit out of my eye stuff out of my hand,
Speaker 1: and then everything went black. I don't know how long
Speaker 1: I was out, but when I woke up, I was
Speaker 1: lying next to a pile of bones. I don't know
Speaker 1: what kind of bones they were. I remember deer skulls
Speaker 1: and other critters, but when I saw a human skull
Speaker 1: over at the edge, I knew I was in trouble.
Speaker 1: I heard something grunning. I remembered it from our fight.
Speaker 1: It has been over a pool of water, washing the
Speaker 1: bear spray out of its eyes. Hell. Yes, I thought
Speaker 1: this thing's gonna kill me, but I heard it, and
Speaker 1: that gave me a sense of victory. The desire to
Speaker 1: keep fighting and live was still there, and I looked
Speaker 1: for a way out of there. The trail we must
Speaker 1: have come in. One was off to my left. I
Speaker 1: put my hand in the mud to get off the ground,
Speaker 1: and pain shot up my arm. I looked down and
Speaker 1: I could see plainly that my wrist was broken, and
Speaker 1: I admit that tears rolled off my face. The broken
Speaker 1: bones might be the worst pain ever. I lifted my
Speaker 1: head and that monster had jumped up and was looking
Speaker 1: at me with those red, swollen eyes, and I pointed
Speaker 1: at it and I laughed out loud. Maybe I knew
Speaker 1: everything was lost, and those blistered eyes just set me off.
Speaker 1: You ain't gonna forget me, you son of a bitch.
Speaker 1: That's exactly what I said to that bigfoot. It came
Speaker 1: across that pile of bones and smelly rot, and it
Speaker 1: snatched me up by my head, palming it like a
Speaker 1: basket ball. It shook me, wrenching my neck, and then
Speaker 1: it started to squeeze. My skull was about to collapse.
Speaker 1: I was going to be defied to the end. And
Speaker 1: I stared it straight in the eyes and I started
Speaker 1: swinging again, trying to connect with its face, but my
Speaker 1: arms wouldn't reach it. That mouth came open and those
Speaker 1: teeth came out, and its breath was horrible. He was
Speaker 1: enjoying this. I could see that plainly, and I was
Speaker 1: about to black out, halfway between dead and alive. I
Speaker 1: remember feeling a swift gust of wind and then falling
Speaker 1: to the ground on my broken arm. I waited on
Speaker 1: my senses to come back from that head vice that
Speaker 1: he had me in and trying to get the pressure
Speaker 1: off my arm, and I didn't see where the monster went.
Speaker 1: I wasn't even thinking about it, I think, looking back
Speaker 1: on it, I was in and out of consciousness, and
Speaker 1: when I could finally think a little, I had a
Speaker 1: grand headache in my arm throb like crazy. There was
Speaker 1: no way I could get away now, feeling this dazed
Speaker 1: and confused, but I looked around anyway, trying to figure
Speaker 1: out a way that I might run. I got to
Speaker 1: my knees and over that pile of bones, and I
Speaker 1: saw two of those creatures now, and they were fighting.
Speaker 1: They looked just alike in my mind, and I watched them,
Speaker 1: with blurry vision, whip the crap out of each other.
Speaker 1: They were biting and hitting each other. In any other setting,
Speaker 1: it would have been awesome to watch, but I knew
Speaker 1: they were fighting over which one was going to eat me.
Speaker 1: I had to find a way and get out of there.
Speaker 1: I didn't know where I was, and there was no
Speaker 1: time to look at my compass if I had even
Speaker 1: been able to find my compass. There was a path
Speaker 1: to my left, I remembered, and it went downhill, and
Speaker 1: that is where I wanted to go, downhill and off
Speaker 1: this mountain. I staggered that way. There was but a
Speaker 1: few steps, and I got my balance and I was running.
Speaker 1: Fifteen minutes or so later, I had to stop and
Speaker 1: catch my breath. That's when my arms started aching again,
Speaker 1: and I was getting dizzy, and I wondered what sort
Speaker 1: of damage that thing had done to my brain. But
Speaker 1: I was on my feet and I started running again,
Speaker 1: always downhill. I wondered if the fight was over, and
Speaker 1: if either one of them even felt like coming after me.
Speaker 1: I remember hoping they had heard each other so bad
Speaker 1: that they would call it quits, but they didn't. Even
Speaker 1: while running and heaving, I could hear that thing coming
Speaker 1: after me, like a bulldozer off the hill behind me.
Speaker 1: I was staying on the trail, but this thing was
Speaker 1: bushwhacking straight at me through the thick woods like it
Speaker 1: was nothing. I didn't know if I could get away
Speaker 1: this time. I guess I figured it was over once again.
Speaker 1: But I had made it this far. Maybe I had
Speaker 1: a chance if I could just keep going. I had
Speaker 1: it straight down the trail and ran with all the
Speaker 1: strength that I had left. That's all I could do.
Speaker 1: A head I could see daylight through the trees, as
Speaker 1: if there was a clearing. I thought it was a
Speaker 1: field maybe, which was not good. For some reason, it
Speaker 1: felt better in the trees and the brush. In my mind.
Speaker 1: At least that was something between it and me. In
Speaker 1: a field, i'd be easy to catch. I don't know
Speaker 1: why I thought these things. I guess our mind naturally
Speaker 1: works out any advantage that we can while in a
Speaker 1: situation like this. But the daylight I saw wasn't a
Speaker 1: field or a clearing. It was a ledge. It was
Speaker 1: a top of a bluff that dropped down into a
Speaker 1: river or a stream. I realized this after I fell
Speaker 1: several feet and saw the water coming up at me.
Speaker 1: When I hit the water, the cold felt good to me,
Speaker 1: almost like freedom. I hit the rocky bottom and luckily
Speaker 1: didn't break my arm worse than it was. My head
Speaker 1: popped out of the water, and I looked back up
Speaker 1: at the spot where I think I fell from, and
Speaker 1: I saw that thing standing at the edge, and it
Speaker 1: was roaring at me. The current pulled me away from
Speaker 1: my enemy, and he followed me down the ledge for
Speaker 1: a distance. I remember turning and looking ahead of me,
Speaker 1: hoping the bluff that he was on didn't slope down
Speaker 1: to a bank, because the way he was moving he
Speaker 1: would have been able to keep up with me and
Speaker 1: eventually catch me. But as far as I could see,
Speaker 1: the bluff stayed at the same elevation where he stood,
Speaker 1: and it even got higher in some places. Something kept
Speaker 1: him from jumping in after me. I'll never know what
Speaker 1: it was, but I'm glad he stayed on the bluff.
Speaker 1: I let the current just take me down river. A
Speaker 1: curve in the course of the river ahead took me
Speaker 1: around to a point where I could not see the
Speaker 1: monster anymore. I was beginning to think that I might
Speaker 1: make it out. I don't know how far I floated
Speaker 1: down that river, but it wasn't long before I was
Speaker 1: too cold to stay in the water, and now I
Speaker 1: was thinking about hyperthermia. At some point I would have
Speaker 1: to get to the bank and try to warm up.
Speaker 1: But what I knew for sure was that I would
Speaker 1: not swim to the side of the river that that
Speaker 1: thing was on. Ahead, I saw a gravel bar and
Speaker 1: I started kicking to get there. My feet started digging
Speaker 1: in the gravel to push me closer and faster, and
Speaker 1: I could finally stand up in front of me. In
Speaker 1: the distance. Down the river, I saw a bridge. There
Speaker 1: were people on the bridge. I went straight into the river.
Speaker 1: I could take a few more minutes of cold. I
Speaker 1: needed help, and there it was, right in front of me.
Speaker 1: There was a group of kids on the bridge and
Speaker 1: they saw me, and I could hear them yelling. I
Speaker 1: managed to work my way to the bank. The first
Speaker 1: thing I did was look around both banks to see
Speaker 1: if I could make out that monster anywhere. I don't
Speaker 1: know how far I floated down that river, but I
Speaker 1: had not stopped thinking that he was following me the
Speaker 1: whole time. But when I looked up, I didn't see
Speaker 1: it anywhere. I stood up and started walking up to
Speaker 1: the road. The group of teenagers met me halfway and
Speaker 1: helped me up to the blacktop. An adult woman ran
Speaker 1: to me and threw a blanket over my back and shoulders.
Speaker 1: I was never more happy to see people in all
Speaker 1: my life. And not long after that, an ambulance pulled up.
Speaker 1: Someone must have called nine to eleven. They treated me
Speaker 1: with what they could and they stabilized my arm, and
Speaker 1: they loaded me up and took me to the local hospital.
Speaker 1: The inside of that ambulance was so warm. I remember
Speaker 1: that vividly. At the hospital, doctors treated my wounds, and
Speaker 1: they put a cast on my arm, and they gave
Speaker 1: me some painkillers. I had broken ribs. They said that
Speaker 1: I had never felt pain from I guess that was
Speaker 1: from the tumble into the water. I was kept one
Speaker 1: night and discharged the next day. Someone from the hospital
Speaker 1: called a cab to take me to my car, and
Speaker 1: by that afternoon I was home. Now I'm not a writer,
Speaker 1: and I don't keep journals. Writing the thoughts and experiences
Speaker 1: of my life for day or week has always seemed
Speaker 1: like a waste of time to me. When I got
Speaker 1: home and after a long sleep, I woke late in
Speaker 1: the night and I thought that I would try to
Speaker 1: write my experience. I knew that as the years passed
Speaker 1: I would forget the details, maybe forget the whole thing,
Speaker 1: and sort of a mind preserving blackout scenario, and I
Speaker 1: wanted to remember everything about this experience, no matter how
Speaker 1: disturbing it was for me, as strange as that may seem,
Speaker 1: for several hours way into the daylight the next day,
Speaker 1: I wrote everything I could remember. Not all of what
Speaker 1: I wrote that day is in this email to you,
Speaker 1: because as I have heard you say before, stick to
Speaker 1: the story that you don't need the minute details that
Speaker 1: do not add to the story. So that is what
Speaker 1: I have sent you. Thank you very much, sir, I
Speaker 1: appreciate that I will describe to you the most profound
Speaker 1: aspect of that day. In my view, it wasn't that
Speaker 1: I was attacked and nearly eaten by one or more sisquatch,
Speaker 1: and that may sound off kilter. It was at the
Speaker 1: hospital that weirder things happened. It isn't a complicated part
Speaker 1: of this story, so don't worry that I'm going to
Speaker 1: go on and on here, but to me it's the
Speaker 1: most shocking. Naturally, I was questioned by the people who
Speaker 1: were taking care of my body about what had happened.
Speaker 1: That's usual stuff. What happened to you? Did you have
Speaker 1: a hiking accident? Yes, that's what happened to me. I
Speaker 1: told them. I slid off the mountain into the river,
Speaker 1: and I got lucky to have come out under a
Speaker 1: bridge where there were people. Okay, they said, looks like
Speaker 1: you had a bad day hiking. That was it. My
Speaker 1: injuries lined up with just that. Once. They had me
Speaker 1: on painkillers and the edge had worn off, and after
Speaker 1: some sleep, my head began to clear and I remembered
Speaker 1: what had happened. Now. It's not that I had forgotten.
Speaker 1: It had just been a crazy day with so much
Speaker 1: going on. But later that night the activity had fallen
Speaker 1: off and I was alone in my room. It was quiet,
Speaker 1: and I had my thoughts to myself. At some point
Speaker 1: after midnight and I had been dozing in and out,
Speaker 1: the door opened to my room. I expected the pesky
Speaker 1: nurse to come in and check my IV or my
Speaker 1: blood pressure or something. They're on a schedule to wake
Speaker 1: you every hour for that nonsense. This time it wasn't
Speaker 1: someone from the hospital. Two men walked in my room.
Speaker 1: They pulled up chairs, and they made themselves at home.
Speaker 1: Sitting by my bed, I saw one reach into his
Speaker 1: jacket pocket and he pulled out a device and switched
Speaker 1: it on. A red light blinked a few times, and
Speaker 1: he laid the device on the tray and then rolled
Speaker 1: it toward me. They were going to record what I said,
Speaker 1: never once introducing themselves. The first words were, now tell
Speaker 1: us what really happened. Well, I just looked at them
Speaker 1: and I didn't speak, neither did they. The silence was
Speaker 1: uncomfortable at first, but then I decided I wasn't going
Speaker 1: to say a word of these jerks, so I let
Speaker 1: the silence hang. There. We're waiting, the other man said,
Speaker 1: I slept off the trail in the rain. I said,
Speaker 1: already told three people this. I'm going to repeat myself
Speaker 1: only once. Now you can tell us what really happened,
Speaker 1: said the first man, or what I said. They said
Speaker 1: in room for several more minutes, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes,
Speaker 1: and finally gathered themselves and left. And in all that
Speaker 1: time we never spoke. I will never know who they were,
Speaker 1: or where or what organization they came from. What I
Speaker 1: know for sure is that they knew what had happened
Speaker 1: to me that day, And that fact alone should say
Speaker 1: to everyone who reads this that they, whoever they is,
Speaker 1: know what is in the woods that we hike and
Speaker 1: camp and hunt and fish in. They know, and they
Speaker 1: are not warning you or warning us. Why are they
Speaker 1: not warning us. Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it.
Speaker 1: The day before I had looked a myth in the
Speaker 1: face and laughed at him because I had heard him.
Speaker 1: I had scalded his eyes with my bars pray. It
Speaker 1: was and is the best part of the whole story.
Speaker 1: The second part is that in my mind I was
Speaker 1: laughing at those jackasses in my room that night in
Speaker 1: the same way. They weren't getting anything from me, and
Speaker 1: I knew it was scalding their ego, just like the
Speaker 1: bear spray had scalded that bigfoot's eyes. Now, had I
Speaker 1: told them the truth or not, they would not have
Speaker 1: used the information to warn the public. So I was
Speaker 1: not going to conform. I doubt I will get back
Speaker 1: to hiking anytime soon, maybe never, but at least I
Speaker 1: know what I'm up against if I do, And now
Speaker 1: you know, and you can do whatever you want. But
Speaker 1: if you do go into the woods on this continent
Speaker 1: and you get caught in a situation like I was,
Speaker 1: fight like hell. You can survive it. That is the
Speaker 1: only advice I can give you.