WEBVTT 1 00:00:02.520 --> 00:00:05.759 For decades, people have disappeared in the woods without a trace. 2 00:00:06.519 --> 00:00:10.279 Some blame wild animals, others whisper of creatures the world 3 00:00:10.359 --> 00:00:14.160 refuses to believe in. But those who have survived they 4 00:00:14.199 --> 00:00:18.679 know the truth. Welcome to Backwoods Bigfoot Stories, where we 5 00:00:18.719 --> 00:00:22.879 share real encounters with the things lurking in the darkness bigfoot, 6 00:00:23.199 --> 00:00:28.239 dog man UFOs, and creatures that defy explanation. Some make 7 00:00:28.280 --> 00:00:32.280 it out, others aren't so lucky. Are you ready, because 8 00:00:32.320 --> 00:00:34.640 once you hear these stories, you'll never walk in the 9 00:00:34.640 --> 00:00:38.920 woods alone again. So grab your flashlight, stay close, and 10 00:00:39.039 --> 00:00:41.840 remember some things in the woods don't want to be found. 11 00:00:42.520 --> 00:00:46.240 Hit that follow or subscribe button, turn on auto downloads, 12 00:00:46.439 --> 00:00:48.399 and let's head off into the woods if you dare. 13 00:01:02.920 --> 00:01:05.879 There's something I've learned, after nearly four decades of doing this, 14 00:01:06.640 --> 00:01:10.359 after all the interviews, the field research, the late nights, 15 00:01:10.359 --> 00:01:13.200 sitting in places most people wouldn't go in broad daylight, 16 00:01:14.079 --> 00:01:16.879 I've learned that the stories that stick with you, the 17 00:01:16.879 --> 00:01:20.000 ones that burrow in and won't let go, They aren't 18 00:01:20.000 --> 00:01:23.400 the dramatic ones. They aren't the stories where somebody saw 19 00:01:23.439 --> 00:01:26.040 something for half a second through the trees and went 20 00:01:26.120 --> 00:01:30.000 home with a good campfire tale. No, the ones that 21 00:01:30.079 --> 00:01:32.640 keep me up at night are the quiet ones, the 22 00:01:32.680 --> 00:01:36.680 slow ones, the encounters where something took its time, where 23 00:01:36.719 --> 00:01:39.400 it watched, where it made a decision about whether or 24 00:01:39.439 --> 00:01:42.400 not to let you leave. That's what you're about to hear. 25 00:01:43.079 --> 00:01:45.599 I've been collecting accounts like these for a long time. 26 00:01:46.079 --> 00:01:49.280 People send them to me, They call, they write long 27 00:01:49.359 --> 00:01:51.640 emails at two in the morning because they can't sleep, 28 00:01:51.879 --> 00:01:54.640 and they've never told anyone the full story. And I 29 00:01:54.640 --> 00:01:57.799 can always tell the difference between someone who's embellishing and 30 00:01:57.840 --> 00:02:01.879 someone who's still shaking people. In these accounts, they're still shaking, 31 00:02:02.319 --> 00:02:05.920 some of them decades later. What I've put together here 32 00:02:05.959 --> 00:02:10.039 are five encounters, five separate people, five different parts of 33 00:02:10.080 --> 00:02:13.680 this country, five different decades, and every single one of 34 00:02:13.719 --> 00:02:17.639 them shares something in common. Not the details. The details 35 00:02:17.639 --> 00:02:22.120 are all different. What they share is the aftermath. Every 36 00:02:22.120 --> 00:02:24.520 one of these people changed the way they lived because 37 00:02:24.560 --> 00:02:27.400 of what happened to them. They stopped going to places 38 00:02:27.479 --> 00:02:30.639 they'd gone their whole lives. They gave up hobbies they'd 39 00:02:30.639 --> 00:02:34.680 built their identities around. They rearranged their entire relationship with 40 00:02:34.719 --> 00:02:37.960 the outdoors because something out there showed them in no 41 00:02:38.199 --> 00:02:40.840 uncertain terms that they were not at the top of 42 00:02:40.879 --> 00:02:43.639 the food chain. I'm not going to tell you what 43 00:02:43.719 --> 00:02:46.520 to believe. That's never been what this show is about. 44 00:02:47.080 --> 00:02:48.919 What I am going to tell you is that these 45 00:02:48.960 --> 00:02:51.919 people believe it, and after you hear what they went through, 46 00:02:52.199 --> 00:02:53.639 I think you'll understand why. 47 00:02:54.479 --> 00:02:54.840 Now. 48 00:02:55.080 --> 00:02:58.919 Some of these came to me directly emails. Mostly one 49 00:02:58.919 --> 00:03:01.759 of them came secondhand from a nephew telling me about 50 00:03:01.759 --> 00:03:05.439 his uncle. I've changed some minor details to protect privacy, 51 00:03:05.960 --> 00:03:08.439 but the core of every account is exactly as it 52 00:03:08.520 --> 00:03:12.479 was shared with me. First names only, locations are as 53 00:03:12.520 --> 00:03:15.919 specific as the witnesses were comfortable with. And I want 54 00:03:15.960 --> 00:03:19.479 to say this upfront because it matters. None of these 55 00:03:19.520 --> 00:03:22.439 people came to me looking for attention. Most of them 56 00:03:22.479 --> 00:03:26.080 specifically asked me not to use their last names. A 57 00:03:26.120 --> 00:03:28.360 couple of them took months to even agree to let 58 00:03:28.360 --> 00:03:31.560 me share their stories at all. These aren't people chasing 59 00:03:31.560 --> 00:03:34.199 cliques or trying to sell a book. These are people 60 00:03:34.199 --> 00:03:36.919 who went through something they can't explain, and they've been 61 00:03:36.919 --> 00:03:40.479 carrying it alone for a long time. Our first account 62 00:03:40.479 --> 00:03:43.639 comes from a man named Dale, out of sequem Washington. 63 00:03:44.360 --> 00:03:47.319 Dale grew up hunting the Olympic Peninsula. He'd been in 64 00:03:47.319 --> 00:03:50.319 those mountains his entire life, and one morning in the 65 00:03:50.319 --> 00:03:54.120 fall of nineteen seventy eight, everything changed in about thirty seconds. 66 00:03:54.719 --> 00:03:58.199 Here's Dale, Brian. My daughter listens to your show and 67 00:03:58.199 --> 00:04:00.919 she's been after me about it for months. She says, 68 00:04:00.960 --> 00:04:03.120 I need to get it out of my system. I 69 00:04:03.120 --> 00:04:05.759 don't think that's possible, but I told her i'd try 70 00:04:06.560 --> 00:04:10.280 so here I am. My name's Dale. I'm seventy one now. 71 00:04:10.800 --> 00:04:13.759 I live in Sequem, Washington, and I've been here most 72 00:04:13.800 --> 00:04:17.120 of my life. I grew up hunting these mountains. My 73 00:04:17.199 --> 00:04:20.920 father taught me. His father taught him. That's just what 74 00:04:20.959 --> 00:04:24.040 you did out here. I started tagging along when I 75 00:04:24.079 --> 00:04:26.680 was eight years old, and by the time I was sixteen, 76 00:04:26.720 --> 00:04:30.079 I was going out on my own. I knew those woods. 77 00:04:30.240 --> 00:04:32.800 I'm not saying that to sound tough. I'm saying it 78 00:04:32.800 --> 00:04:34.879 because I need you to understand that what happened to 79 00:04:34.920 --> 00:04:38.040 me in October of nineteen seventy eight wasn't the result 80 00:04:38.160 --> 00:04:41.399 of some greenhorn wandering into the timber and getting spooked 81 00:04:41.399 --> 00:04:44.600 by a bear. I was twenty three. It was the 82 00:04:44.639 --> 00:04:48.800 second week of October ELK season, I'd gone out alone, 83 00:04:48.839 --> 00:04:52.800 which wasn't unusual for me. I preferred it actually. I 84 00:04:52.839 --> 00:04:55.680 was hunting a drainage off the Do's wallops, up above 85 00:04:55.720 --> 00:04:58.360 a creek bottom where I'd seen sign earlier that week. 86 00:04:59.120 --> 00:05:01.120 There'd been fresh row ubs on the alders and some 87 00:05:01.199 --> 00:05:04.160 good tracks in the mud along the water. I figured 88 00:05:04.160 --> 00:05:06.560 i'd get up into a good spot before light and wait. 89 00:05:07.480 --> 00:05:10.360 I drove in before dawn, parked at a pull off 90 00:05:10.399 --> 00:05:13.720 i'd used a dozen times, grabbed my rifle, my pack, 91 00:05:13.759 --> 00:05:17.439 and a thermos, and started hiking in. It was cold, 92 00:05:17.879 --> 00:05:21.120 low forties, maybe fog sitting in the valley like it 93 00:05:21.160 --> 00:05:24.240 always does that time of year. You couldn't see more 94 00:05:24.279 --> 00:05:26.680 than forty or fifty yards in front of you, and 95 00:05:26.759 --> 00:05:27.680 even that was fuzzy. 96 00:05:28.480 --> 00:05:29.480 I remember thinking. 97 00:05:29.199 --> 00:05:30.839 It was going to be one of those mornings where 98 00:05:30.839 --> 00:05:33.959 you just sit there and listen because the visibility wasn't 99 00:05:33.959 --> 00:05:36.600 going to do you any favors. I got up to 100 00:05:36.639 --> 00:05:39.519 my spot about an hour before first light. It was 101 00:05:39.560 --> 00:05:42.160 a little bench above the creek with some big furs 102 00:05:42.199 --> 00:05:45.600 behind me and a good view down into the drainage. 103 00:05:45.639 --> 00:05:48.800 I sat down against a tree, settled in and poured 104 00:05:48.839 --> 00:05:53.439 a cup of coffee. Everything was quiet, normal quiet, the 105 00:05:53.519 --> 00:05:55.480 kind where you hear the creek and the drip off 106 00:05:55.480 --> 00:05:58.720 the branches and nothing else. I sat there for maybe 107 00:05:58.759 --> 00:06:02.959 forty five minutes. The sky started getting gray, just barely. 108 00:06:03.759 --> 00:06:06.240 You know that moment where it's not really daylight yet, 109 00:06:06.439 --> 00:06:09.680 but you can start to make things out, Trees take shape, 110 00:06:10.160 --> 00:06:12.759 you can see the ground. That's where I was when 111 00:06:12.759 --> 00:06:14.199 I heard something moving below me. 112 00:06:14.879 --> 00:06:15.519 It was heavy. 113 00:06:16.199 --> 00:06:18.839 That was the first thing I noticed. Not a deer, 114 00:06:19.439 --> 00:06:22.720 not even an elk. I've heard elk moving through brush 115 00:06:22.759 --> 00:06:26.639 a thousand times. They cracked through it, they snapped things. 116 00:06:27.399 --> 00:06:30.560 This was different. Whatever was down there was pushing through 117 00:06:30.600 --> 00:06:34.879 thick stuff, and it sounded like it was doing it slowly, deliberately, 118 00:06:35.519 --> 00:06:37.680 like it was trying not to make noise, but couldn't 119 00:06:37.680 --> 00:06:40.920 avoid it because of how big it was. I put 120 00:06:40.920 --> 00:06:43.480 my coffee down and brought the rifle up across my knees. 121 00:06:44.120 --> 00:06:47.560 I wasn't alarmed, not yet. I figured it might be 122 00:06:47.600 --> 00:06:51.000 a bear. We've got black bears all through that country, 123 00:06:51.240 --> 00:06:53.399 and they'll move through the bottoms early in the morning. 124 00:06:53.879 --> 00:06:57.199 I just sat there, watching the fog, waiting for whatever 125 00:06:57.240 --> 00:06:59.920 it was to come into view. And then the smell 126 00:07:00.120 --> 00:07:02.800 hit me. I've cleaned more elk and deer than I 127 00:07:02.839 --> 00:07:06.319 could ever count. I've been around dead animals in various 128 00:07:06.360 --> 00:07:10.480 states of decay. I've smelled bear dens. This wasn't any 129 00:07:10.519 --> 00:07:15.319 of that. It was something else entirely. It was sharp, organic, 130 00:07:15.959 --> 00:07:19.120 almost chemical, like if you took the worst body odor 131 00:07:19.160 --> 00:07:21.600 you've ever encountered and mixed it with wet dog and 132 00:07:21.680 --> 00:07:25.920 rotten vegetation. It was so strong my eyes watered. I 133 00:07:25.959 --> 00:07:29.000 remember pulling my collar up over my nose. That's how 134 00:07:29.040 --> 00:07:32.240 bad it was. Whatever was down there had stopped moving. 135 00:07:32.879 --> 00:07:36.120 I couldn't hear it anymore, but the smell was getting stronger, 136 00:07:36.480 --> 00:07:39.839 which told me it hadn't left. It was close, and 137 00:07:39.879 --> 00:07:44.519 it was still. Then the fog shifted just enough and 138 00:07:44.600 --> 00:07:47.160 I saw it. It was standing at the base of 139 00:07:47.199 --> 00:07:50.839 the slope, maybe sixty yards below me, partially behind a 140 00:07:50.839 --> 00:07:53.720 big hemlock. At first I thought I was looking at 141 00:07:53.720 --> 00:07:56.639 a man. My first, honest to God thought was that 142 00:07:56.680 --> 00:07:58.959 some other hunter had come in on the same drainage 143 00:07:59.199 --> 00:08:02.199 and was standing there in a dark coat. Because the 144 00:08:02.240 --> 00:08:07.279 shape was upright, two legs, two arms, shoulders, but the 145 00:08:07.319 --> 00:08:10.319 proportions were way off for a person. I could see 146 00:08:10.360 --> 00:08:13.279 that even through the fog. The shoulders were too wide, 147 00:08:13.800 --> 00:08:16.839 way too wide, and the arms hung too far down, 148 00:08:17.439 --> 00:08:20.399 They hung almost to the knees. The whole body was 149 00:08:20.439 --> 00:08:23.639 thick in a way that a human body isn't. Not fat, 150 00:08:24.160 --> 00:08:26.399 not muscular in the way you'd think of a bodybuilder, 151 00:08:27.000 --> 00:08:30.759 just dense, packed, like every part of it was built 152 00:08:30.759 --> 00:08:33.559 heavier than it had any right to be. The way 153 00:08:33.600 --> 00:08:36.919 it stood was wrong too. A man standing still in 154 00:08:36.960 --> 00:08:41.720 the cold shifts his weight, he moves, he adjusts. This 155 00:08:41.759 --> 00:08:46.440 thing was rooted, absolutely motionless from the waist down. The 156 00:08:46.480 --> 00:08:49.440 stillness of it was unnatural. It was the kind of 157 00:08:49.440 --> 00:08:52.799 stillness that takes effort, or that comes naturally to something 158 00:08:52.799 --> 00:08:55.679 that's used to standing still for a very long time, 159 00:08:56.399 --> 00:09:02.080 waiting watching. It was covered in hair, dark brown, almost black, 160 00:09:02.600 --> 00:09:07.240 and it was matted in places, clumped, wet looking. The 161 00:09:07.279 --> 00:09:09.600 hair on the shoulders was longer than on the arms. 162 00:09:10.120 --> 00:09:12.639 It didn't look like fur, not the way a bear's 163 00:09:12.639 --> 00:09:15.759 coat looks, uniform and groomed. This was more like the 164 00:09:15.799 --> 00:09:20.360 hair on a neglected animal, uneven, patchy in some spots, 165 00:09:20.879 --> 00:09:24.480 thick in others. I couldn't see the face clearly, not 166 00:09:24.559 --> 00:09:28.000 at that distance, not in that fog, but I could 167 00:09:28.000 --> 00:09:30.360 see the head, and the head is what made my 168 00:09:30.440 --> 00:09:35.039 hand start shaking, because it wasn't round, it wasn't shaped. 169 00:09:34.759 --> 00:09:35.559 Like a bear's head. 170 00:09:36.000 --> 00:09:38.279 It came up to a slight point, like the top 171 00:09:38.320 --> 00:09:41.120 of the skull was ridged, and the head sat right 172 00:09:41.159 --> 00:09:44.519 on the shoulders. There was no neck, or if there was, 173 00:09:44.960 --> 00:09:47.320 it was so thick and short that it just blended 174 00:09:47.320 --> 00:09:50.320 into the shoulders like they were one piece. I sat 175 00:09:50.320 --> 00:09:53.279 there with the rifle across my knees and I didn't move. 176 00:09:53.879 --> 00:09:57.120 I didn't breathe. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you 177 00:09:57.159 --> 00:10:00.799 that my body wouldn't respond. It was like everything below 178 00:10:00.840 --> 00:10:04.399 my neck just locked up. I've never felt anything like it. 179 00:10:04.840 --> 00:10:07.600 I've been in tight spots. I've had close calls in 180 00:10:07.639 --> 00:10:10.159 the woods. I fell off a cliff face when I 181 00:10:10.240 --> 00:10:13.399 was nineteen and broke my collar bone, but nothing has 182 00:10:13.440 --> 00:10:16.120 ever produced the kind of fear I felt in that moment. 183 00:10:16.679 --> 00:10:20.279 It was primal. That's the only word for it. Something 184 00:10:20.279 --> 00:10:22.360 in my brain was screaming at me to be still, 185 00:10:23.080 --> 00:10:26.720 be invisible, don't let it know you're here. It turned 186 00:10:26.759 --> 00:10:30.799 its head, not toward me, off to the left, and 187 00:10:30.879 --> 00:10:33.360 when it turned I saw the profile of the face. 188 00:10:34.120 --> 00:10:38.759 The jaw was massive, just enormous. It jutted forward, not 189 00:10:38.879 --> 00:10:42.639 like an ape exactly, but close. The brow was heavy 190 00:10:42.679 --> 00:10:45.600 and sloped, and the skin on the face, the parts 191 00:10:45.679 --> 00:10:49.240 that weren't covered in hair, was gray, not dark gray, 192 00:10:49.799 --> 00:10:54.440 not pale, just gray, like old concrete, like something that 193 00:10:54.480 --> 00:10:57.600 hadn't seen sun in its life. It stood there for 194 00:10:57.639 --> 00:11:01.799 maybe ten more seconds. I don't know. Time didn't work right. 195 00:11:02.320 --> 00:11:04.000 It could have been thirty seconds, or it could have 196 00:11:04.039 --> 00:11:07.600 been five. Then it turned and walked into the fog 197 00:11:07.919 --> 00:11:11.200 and the brush, and it was gone, just like that. 198 00:11:12.039 --> 00:11:15.240 No hurry, no sound at all this time, it just 199 00:11:15.279 --> 00:11:19.679 walked away and disappeared. I didn't move for another twenty minutes. 200 00:11:20.200 --> 00:11:22.919 I'm not proud of that. I sat there with my 201 00:11:23.039 --> 00:11:26.279 rifle in my lap, and I shook. My legs were shaking, 202 00:11:26.759 --> 00:11:30.039 my hands were shaking. My jaw was clenched so tight 203 00:11:30.080 --> 00:11:33.519 that when I finally forced myself to relax, my teeth ached. 204 00:11:34.240 --> 00:11:36.799 When I finally stood up, I didn't go down the slope. 205 00:11:37.240 --> 00:11:40.240 I didn't track it. I turned around and walked straight 206 00:11:40.279 --> 00:11:43.679 back to my truck. I didn't run, but I wanted to. 207 00:11:44.399 --> 00:11:47.559 Every cell in my body wanted to. I kept looking 208 00:11:47.559 --> 00:11:50.279 over my shoulder the whole way back. I'd take ten 209 00:11:50.279 --> 00:11:55.039 steps and stop and listen. Ten more steps, stop, listen. 210 00:11:55.879 --> 00:11:57.960 It took me twice as long to hike out as 211 00:11:57.960 --> 00:12:00.679 it did to hike in. I got to the truck 212 00:12:00.679 --> 00:12:02.799 and sat there with the engine running and my hands 213 00:12:02.799 --> 00:12:05.480 on the steering wheel. I couldn't stop looking at the 214 00:12:05.480 --> 00:12:09.159 tree line. I kept expecting to see it again. Every 215 00:12:09.200 --> 00:12:13.120 shadow between the firs looked like shoulders, Every dark stump 216 00:12:13.159 --> 00:12:16.240 looked like something crouching. I sat there for at least 217 00:12:16.279 --> 00:12:18.279 ten minutes before I could bring myself to put the 218 00:12:18.279 --> 00:12:21.559 truck in gear. I drove home, and I didn't tell 219 00:12:21.559 --> 00:12:24.840 my wife what happened. I didn't tell my father, I 220 00:12:24.879 --> 00:12:28.120 didn't tell anyone. I put the rifle in the safe, 221 00:12:28.360 --> 00:12:31.480 and I told everyone I was done hunting. My dad 222 00:12:31.519 --> 00:12:34.600 thought I'd lost my mind. My buddies gave me grief 223 00:12:34.600 --> 00:12:38.080 about it for years. I let them. I wasn't going 224 00:12:38.120 --> 00:12:40.840 to explain myself because I knew how it would sound. 225 00:12:41.320 --> 00:12:44.320 I knew exactly how it would sound. I didn't go 226 00:12:44.399 --> 00:12:48.320 back into those woods for twenty six years. Twenty six years, Brian, 227 00:12:48.879 --> 00:12:52.600 I'm not talking about that specific drainage. I mean any woods. 228 00:12:53.080 --> 00:12:55.919 I didn't hunt, I didn't hike, I didn't go on 229 00:12:56.000 --> 00:12:58.759 camping trips with my kids. My wife would want to 230 00:12:58.759 --> 00:13:01.320 do a weekend at a campground somewhere, and I'd find 231 00:13:01.360 --> 00:13:04.039 a reason not to go. She thought I just didn't 232 00:13:04.120 --> 00:13:07.720 enjoy it anymore. I let her think that. The truth is, 233 00:13:08.080 --> 00:13:11.200 I was afraid, a twenty three year old man who'd 234 00:13:11.200 --> 00:13:13.519 spent his whole life in the mountains, and I was 235 00:13:13.559 --> 00:13:16.960 afraid to go back because I'd seen something standing in 236 00:13:17.000 --> 00:13:20.200 that fog that should not have been there, something that 237 00:13:20.320 --> 00:13:24.039 wasn't a bear, wasn't a man, wasn't anything I could 238 00:13:24.039 --> 00:13:28.519 make sense of then, and honestly I still can't. I 239 00:13:28.559 --> 00:13:30.480 finally went on a walk in the woods again when 240 00:13:30.480 --> 00:13:33.120 my granddaughter was four. She wanted to go on a 241 00:13:33.200 --> 00:13:36.399 nature walk. She was tugging on my hand and I 242 00:13:36.440 --> 00:13:40.279 did it for her. But I'll tell you this, it 243 00:13:40.360 --> 00:13:44.480 wasn't peaceful, it wasn't fun. I spent the whole time 244 00:13:44.519 --> 00:13:48.720 watching the trees, listening. My granddaughter was pointing at birds 245 00:13:48.759 --> 00:13:51.279 and picking up rocks, and I was scanning the timber 246 00:13:51.360 --> 00:13:54.480 like I was on patrol. I'm seventy one years old, 247 00:13:54.480 --> 00:13:56.759 and I still don't like being in the woods after dark. 248 00:13:57.600 --> 00:14:01.159 I've had a good life, raised two kids, had a career, 249 00:14:01.759 --> 00:14:04.639 built a house with my own hands. But there's this 250 00:14:04.679 --> 00:14:07.480 one thing sitting in the back of everything, this one 251 00:14:07.559 --> 00:14:10.440 morning in nineteen seventy eight that I've never been able 252 00:14:10.440 --> 00:14:14.720 to put down. I've tried, Lord knows, I've tried. I've 253 00:14:14.720 --> 00:14:16.960 told myself it was a bear on its hind legs. 254 00:14:17.440 --> 00:14:20.360 I've told myself the fog was playing tricks. But I 255 00:14:20.399 --> 00:14:23.559 know what I saw. I saw a face. I saw 256 00:14:23.559 --> 00:14:26.000 a gray skin and a jaw that could have crushed 257 00:14:26.000 --> 00:14:29.320 a fence post. I saw something that looked almost human 258 00:14:29.679 --> 00:14:35.320 but wasn't. And the way it moved when it left, unhurried, casual, 259 00:14:36.120 --> 00:14:38.519 like it had somewhere to be, and I was beneath 260 00:14:38.559 --> 00:14:42.200 its Notice, that's the part that haunts me most. It 261 00:14:42.240 --> 00:14:45.759 wasn't afraid of me, not even a little bit. Whatever 262 00:14:45.799 --> 00:14:49.120 I saw that morning was real, it was solid, it 263 00:14:49.240 --> 00:14:52.559 was alive, and it was something that made me, a 264 00:14:52.600 --> 00:14:55.320 man who grew up in those mountains, feel like prey. 265 00:14:56.399 --> 00:14:58.600 I don't know what you do with that, but my 266 00:14:58.720 --> 00:15:03.000 daughter wanted me to tell somebody, so I'm telling you Dale. 267 00:15:03.039 --> 00:15:06.600 Stay tuned for more Backwoods Bigfoot stories. We'll be back 268 00:15:06.639 --> 00:15:11.960 after these messages. Twenty six years. That's how long Dale 269 00:15:12.000 --> 00:15:14.480 stayed out of the woods. A man who grew up 270 00:15:14.480 --> 00:15:17.240 in those mountains, who learned to hunt before he could drive, 271 00:15:17.679 --> 00:15:20.480 and one encounter took all of it away from him. 272 00:15:20.759 --> 00:15:23.960 That's not somebody telling a story for fun. That's somebody 273 00:15:24.000 --> 00:15:27.519 describing a wound. Our next account takes us across the 274 00:15:27.559 --> 00:15:30.799 country to the mountains of West Virginia. A woman named 275 00:15:30.879 --> 00:15:34.039 Karen was twenty four years old in nineteen ninety three, 276 00:15:34.360 --> 00:15:37.639 camped alone on a trail she'd hiked dozens of times. 277 00:15:38.080 --> 00:15:40.320 What happened to her that night and what she saw 278 00:15:40.360 --> 00:15:44.080 the next morning ended her relationship with the outdoors permanently. 279 00:15:44.919 --> 00:15:48.679 Here's Karen Brian. I'm writing this because my therapist told 280 00:15:48.720 --> 00:15:51.879 me it might help. I know that probably sounds dramatic, 281 00:15:52.240 --> 00:15:54.440 but I've been dealing with this for over thirty years 282 00:15:54.679 --> 00:15:56.840 and I'm tired of it living only in my head. 283 00:15:57.720 --> 00:16:00.279 I found your show about six months ago and listen 284 00:16:00.320 --> 00:16:03.279 to most of your episodes in about two weeks. Some 285 00:16:03.360 --> 00:16:05.279 of them scared me so badly I had to turn 286 00:16:05.320 --> 00:16:07.799 them off and come back the next day. But I 287 00:16:07.879 --> 00:16:11.519 kept coming back because these people were describing things I recognized, 288 00:16:12.320 --> 00:16:15.960 not the exact same thing, but the feeling, the way 289 00:16:16.000 --> 00:16:18.919 it sits in your chest afterward, the way you can't 290 00:16:18.960 --> 00:16:22.120 explain it to anyone without feeling like you're losing credibility. 291 00:16:23.080 --> 00:16:26.720 My name's Karen. I'm fifty seven. I live in Virginia now, 292 00:16:27.080 --> 00:16:29.840 but I grew up in Elkins, West Virginia, right on 293 00:16:29.919 --> 00:16:33.759 the edge of the Monongahela National Forest. My family wasn't 294 00:16:33.759 --> 00:16:36.480 what you'd call out doorsy, but you didn't have to be. 295 00:16:37.120 --> 00:16:40.039 The forest was just there. You'd drive ten minutes in 296 00:16:40.080 --> 00:16:43.440 any direction and you were in it. I started hiking 297 00:16:43.480 --> 00:16:46.399 in college. I went to Davis and Elkins, so I 298 00:16:46.480 --> 00:16:48.639 was right there and it became my thing. 299 00:16:49.559 --> 00:16:50.919 It was how I dealt with stress. 300 00:16:51.559 --> 00:16:53.399 I'd load up a pack and head out on one 301 00:16:53.440 --> 00:16:56.279 of the trails for a few hours. Sometimes i'd go 302 00:16:56.320 --> 00:17:00.000 for a full weekend. In September of nineteen ninety three, 303 00:17:00.120 --> 00:17:03.039 I was twenty four, I'd graduated and was working at 304 00:17:03.039 --> 00:17:06.400 a physical therapy clinic in town. I decided to do 305 00:17:06.480 --> 00:17:09.880 a solo overnight on a trail i'd done several times before. 306 00:17:10.720 --> 00:17:12.279 It was a loop that took you up into some 307 00:17:12.359 --> 00:17:15.240 older timber, across a couple of ridges, and back down 308 00:17:15.279 --> 00:17:20.400 along a creek. Nothing crazy, maybe twelve miles total. I'd 309 00:17:20.400 --> 00:17:23.440 always felt safe on it. I hiked in on a 310 00:17:23.480 --> 00:17:26.039 Saturday morning and set up camp in a spot I liked, 311 00:17:26.519 --> 00:17:28.960 a flat area back in some hard woods, about thirty 312 00:17:29.079 --> 00:17:32.240 yards off the trail. I spent the afternoon reading and 313 00:17:32.279 --> 00:17:36.519 walking around, had a fire that night, ate dinner. Everything 314 00:17:36.599 --> 00:17:39.359 was completely normal. I woke up at around two in 315 00:17:39.400 --> 00:17:42.079 the morning, and I don't know why. I wasn't cold, 316 00:17:42.480 --> 00:17:45.079 I didn't have to use the bathroom. My eyes just 317 00:17:45.160 --> 00:17:48.480 opened and I was immediately wide awake, which is unusual 318 00:17:48.559 --> 00:17:52.599 for me. I'm a heavy sleeper, always have been. But 319 00:17:52.640 --> 00:17:55.559 I was awake, like someone had flipped a switch. The 320 00:17:55.559 --> 00:17:58.519 first thing I noticed was the silence. And I know 321 00:17:58.599 --> 00:18:01.039 people say that all the time in the stories, so 322 00:18:01.160 --> 00:18:04.440 let me be specific. The creek I was camped near 323 00:18:04.599 --> 00:18:07.480 was still running. I could hear that, but there were 324 00:18:07.480 --> 00:18:12.160 no insects, no frogs, nothing in the underbrush, nothing in 325 00:18:12.200 --> 00:18:16.440 the canopy. It was September and West Virginia, Bryant. The 326 00:18:16.480 --> 00:18:20.359 woods at night in September are loud, crickets, katie DIDs, 327 00:18:20.440 --> 00:18:23.799 tree frogs, all of it, that constant chorus that you 328 00:18:23.839 --> 00:18:27.200 stop hearing after a while because it's just background noise. 329 00:18:27.799 --> 00:18:30.960 It was gone, all of it. It was like someone 330 00:18:30.960 --> 00:18:34.400 had muted every living thing within a quarter mile. I 331 00:18:34.480 --> 00:18:37.640 lay there in my sleeping bag and I listened. My 332 00:18:37.680 --> 00:18:40.319 heart was beating hard, and I didn't know why yet. 333 00:18:41.079 --> 00:18:43.880 I just had this overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. 334 00:18:44.519 --> 00:18:50.000 Not vague, not gradual. It was instant and absolute, like 335 00:18:50.079 --> 00:18:52.119 my body knew something my brain hadn't. 336 00:18:51.880 --> 00:18:57.160 Caught up to. Then I heard breathing, not mine. 337 00:18:56.200 --> 00:19:00.079 Outside the tent, close, so close that at first I 338 00:19:00.119 --> 00:19:02.680 thought an animal was pressed right up against the rainfly. 339 00:19:03.599 --> 00:19:07.559 It was deep, slow breathing in and out, and I 340 00:19:07.559 --> 00:19:10.440 could hear a slight wheeze on the exhale, like air 341 00:19:10.519 --> 00:19:15.480 passing through a restricted space. It was rhythmic, patient, There 342 00:19:15.480 --> 00:19:18.839 was no urgency in it. Whatever was out there wasn't winded, 343 00:19:19.359 --> 00:19:23.680 wasn't stressed. It was just standing there, breathing like it 344 00:19:23.720 --> 00:19:26.400 had all the time in the world. And the smell 345 00:19:26.480 --> 00:19:31.119 came with it, thick, sour like body odor and rotting 346 00:19:31.200 --> 00:19:35.119 leaves and something else underneath, something animal that I couldn't place. 347 00:19:35.880 --> 00:19:38.839 It came through the tent fabric. It was inside with me. 348 00:19:39.480 --> 00:19:43.119 I was breathing it. I stopped breathing myself. I put 349 00:19:43.119 --> 00:19:45.160 my hand over my mouth because I was terrified it 350 00:19:45.200 --> 00:19:48.960 could hear me. I lay there, completely rigid, staring up 351 00:19:49.000 --> 00:19:51.359 at the inside of the tent, and I listened to 352 00:19:51.440 --> 00:19:54.839 that breathing for what felt like forever. My whole body 353 00:19:54.920 --> 00:19:58.440 was locked up, every muscle tight. I could feel my 354 00:19:58.480 --> 00:20:02.880 pulse in my throat, my wrists, behind my eyes. Then 355 00:20:02.920 --> 00:20:05.519 something touched the tent, not bumped. 356 00:20:05.200 --> 00:20:08.640 It touched it. I watched the fabric press. 357 00:20:08.400 --> 00:20:12.599 Inward near the top, on the side closest to my head, slowly, 358 00:20:13.319 --> 00:20:16.480 like a hand pressing against it. From the outside. The 359 00:20:16.519 --> 00:20:19.480 shape of it was clear against the nylon. It was 360 00:20:19.519 --> 00:20:24.720 a hand, a huge hand, fingers spread wide. It pressed 361 00:20:24.759 --> 00:20:27.640 in far enough that the fabric was almost touching my face, 362 00:20:28.240 --> 00:20:30.359 and I could feel the heat coming off of whatever 363 00:20:30.480 --> 00:20:33.480 was on the other side. That's the detail that gets 364 00:20:33.519 --> 00:20:37.839 me the most even now. The heat, whatever was touching 365 00:20:37.880 --> 00:20:41.519 my tent was radiating warmth through the nylon, like standing 366 00:20:41.519 --> 00:20:44.920 next to a wood stove. It was alive. It was 367 00:20:45.000 --> 00:20:47.960 right there, inches from my face. With nothing but a 368 00:20:48.000 --> 00:20:51.440 thin sheet of nylon between us. Then the hand moved. 369 00:20:52.039 --> 00:20:56.160 It slid downward along the wall slowly. I could hear 370 00:20:56.200 --> 00:20:59.680 the fabric whispering under the pressure, like something feeling the 371 00:20:59.720 --> 00:21:02.839 shape of what it had found, not trying to get in, 372 00:21:03.480 --> 00:21:04.599 not tearing at it. 373 00:21:04.960 --> 00:21:05.799 Just exploring. 374 00:21:06.599 --> 00:21:09.279 That realization hit me in real time, and it made 375 00:21:09.359 --> 00:21:13.200 everything worse, because it meant this thing was curious. It 376 00:21:13.240 --> 00:21:16.680 meant it was thinking. I didn't scream, I didn't move, 377 00:21:17.279 --> 00:21:20.880 I just lay there. The hand pulled away, the fabric 378 00:21:20.920 --> 00:21:25.839 settled back into place. I heard movement outside, not footsteps exactly, 379 00:21:26.400 --> 00:21:30.000 more like a shuffling, a shifting of weight, than nothing. 380 00:21:30.799 --> 00:21:35.240 Silence again. I don't know how long I waited, an hour, maybe, 381 00:21:35.519 --> 00:21:40.640 maybe longer. Eventually the insects started up again, slowly, at first, 382 00:21:41.160 --> 00:21:44.759 a cricket here, a frog there. The woods came back 383 00:21:44.759 --> 00:21:46.960 to life, and I took that as a sign that 384 00:21:47.000 --> 00:21:50.359 whatever had been out there was gone. I waited until 385 00:21:50.359 --> 00:21:52.200 gray light, and then I got out of the tent. 386 00:21:53.000 --> 00:21:56.680 I won't pretend I wasn't shaking, because I was. My 387 00:21:56.720 --> 00:21:59.519 hands were trembling so badly I could barely work the zipper. 388 00:22:00.319 --> 00:22:06.000 I stepped outside and looked around, and everything looked normal, trees, leaves, 389 00:22:06.480 --> 00:22:11.599 morning fog, nothing out of place except the ground. About 390 00:22:11.599 --> 00:22:14.000 five feet from my tent. There were impressions in the 391 00:22:14.079 --> 00:22:17.880 leaf litter, two of them, side by side, where something 392 00:22:17.880 --> 00:22:21.960 had been standing, and they were enormous. Not prints exactly, 393 00:22:22.400 --> 00:22:25.279 not in the way you'd see in mud, but compressions, 394 00:22:25.920 --> 00:22:28.480 like something incredibly heavy had stood in that one spot 395 00:22:28.519 --> 00:22:31.000 for a long time and packed the leaves and dirt 396 00:22:31.039 --> 00:22:33.960 down under its weight. I packed up faster than I've 397 00:22:34.000 --> 00:22:37.279 ever packed in my life. I stuffed everything into my bag, 398 00:22:37.319 --> 00:22:41.200 without organizing it, without folding anything. I was on the 399 00:22:41.240 --> 00:22:44.559 trail within ten minutes. I made it about a quarter mile. 400 00:22:44.359 --> 00:22:45.720 Before I saw it. 401 00:22:45.720 --> 00:22:48.759