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 00:01:02.560 --> 00:01:05.519 There's something I've learned, after nearly four decades of doing this, 14 00:01:06.280 --> 00:01:10.000 after all the interviews, the field research, the late nights, 15 00:01:10.000 --> 00:01:12.840 sitting in places most people wouldn't go in broad daylight, 16 00:01:13.719 --> 00:01:16.519 I've learned that the stories that stick with you, the 17 00:01:16.519 --> 00:01:19.599 ones that burrow in and won't let go, They aren't 18 00:01:19.599 --> 00:01:23.040 the dramatic ones. They aren't the stories where somebody saw 19 00:01:23.079 --> 00:01:25.719 something for half a second through the trees and went 20 00:01:25.760 --> 00:01:28.959 home with a good campfire tale. The ones that keep 21 00:01:28.959 --> 00:01:32.040 me up at night are the quiet ones, the slow ones, 22 00:01:32.719 --> 00:01:36.040 the encounters where something took its time, where it watched, 23 00:01:36.560 --> 00:01:38.599 where it made a decision about whether or not to 24 00:01:38.680 --> 00:01:42.239 let you leave. That's what you're about to hear. I've 25 00:01:42.239 --> 00:01:45.400 been collecting accounts like these for a long time. People 26 00:01:45.439 --> 00:01:48.799 send them to me, They call, they write long emails 27 00:01:48.840 --> 00:01:50.959 at two in the morning because they can't sleep, and 28 00:01:51.000 --> 00:01:53.799 they've never told anyone the full story. And I can 29 00:01:53.840 --> 00:01:57.000 always tell the difference between someone who's embellishing and someone 30 00:01:57.040 --> 00:02:00.799 who's still shaking. The people in these accounts still shaking, 31 00:02:01.200 --> 00:02:04.760 some of them decades later. What I've put together here 32 00:02:04.840 --> 00:02:08.919 are five encounters, five separate people, five different parts of 33 00:02:08.960 --> 00:02:12.560 this country, five different decades, and every single one of 34 00:02:12.599 --> 00:02:16.520 them shares something in common. Not the details. The details 35 00:02:16.520 --> 00:02:21.000 are all different. What they share is the aftermath. Every 36 00:02:21.080 --> 00:02:23.520 one of these people changed the way they lived because 37 00:02:23.520 --> 00:02:26.479 of what happened to them. They stopped going to places 38 00:02:26.479 --> 00:02:27.199 they'd gone. 39 00:02:27.000 --> 00:02:28.000 Their whole lives. 40 00:02:28.599 --> 00:02:31.759 They gave up hobbies they'd built their identities around. They 41 00:02:31.800 --> 00:02:35.639 rearranged their entire relationship with the outdoors because something out 42 00:02:35.639 --> 00:02:39.039 there showed them in no uncertain terms that they were 43 00:02:39.080 --> 00:02:41.960 not at the top of the food chain. I'm not 44 00:02:42.000 --> 00:02:44.439 going to tell you what to believe. That's never been 45 00:02:44.479 --> 00:02:46.960 what this show is about. What I am going to 46 00:02:47.000 --> 00:02:49.680 tell you is that these people believe it. And after 47 00:02:49.719 --> 00:02:52.759 you hear what they went through, I think you'll understand why. 48 00:02:53.520 --> 00:02:57.360 Some of these came to me directly emails mostly. One 49 00:02:57.360 --> 00:03:00.240 of them came secondhand from a nephew telling me about 50 00:03:00.280 --> 00:03:04.000 his uncle. I've changed some minor details to protect privacy, 51 00:03:04.479 --> 00:03:06.960 but the core of every account is exactly as it 52 00:03:07.039 --> 00:03:11.039 was shared with me. First names only, locations are as 53 00:03:11.039 --> 00:03:14.159 specific as the witnesses were comfortable with. And I want 54 00:03:14.159 --> 00:03:17.759 to say this upfront because it matters. None of these 55 00:03:17.800 --> 00:03:20.840 people came to me looking for attention. Most of them 56 00:03:20.879 --> 00:03:24.479 specifically asked me not to use their last names. A 57 00:03:24.520 --> 00:03:26.639 couple of them took months to even agree to let 58 00:03:26.719 --> 00:03:29.960 me share their stories at all. These aren't people chasing 59 00:03:30.000 --> 00:03:32.719 cliques or trying to sell a book. These are people 60 00:03:32.759 --> 00:03:35.520 who went through something they can't explain, and they've been 61 00:03:35.520 --> 00:03:38.680 carrying it alone for a long time. So let's get 62 00:03:38.719 --> 00:03:41.560 into it. Our first account comes from a man named 63 00:03:41.639 --> 00:03:45.319 Dale out of Sequem, Washington. Dale grew up hunting the 64 00:03:45.319 --> 00:03:48.840 Olympic Peninsula. He'd been in those mountains his entire life, 65 00:03:49.199 --> 00:03:51.680 and one morning in the fall of nineteen seventy eight, 66 00:03:52.000 --> 00:03:54.599 everything he thought he knew about those woods changed in 67 00:03:54.639 --> 00:03:58.680 about thirty seconds. Here's Dale. I've gone back and forth 68 00:03:58.680 --> 00:04:01.039 on whether to send this probably one hundred times over 69 00:04:01.080 --> 00:04:04.360 the last year and a half. My name's Dale. I'm 70 00:04:04.400 --> 00:04:07.759 seventy one now. I live in Sequin, Washington, and I've 71 00:04:07.800 --> 00:04:10.520 been here most of my life. I grew up hunting 72 00:04:10.560 --> 00:04:14.199 these mountains. My father taught me. His father taught him. 73 00:04:14.919 --> 00:04:18.079 That's just what you did out here. I started tagging 74 00:04:18.079 --> 00:04:20.319 along when I was eight years old, and by the 75 00:04:20.360 --> 00:04:22.879 time I was sixteen, I was going out on my own. 76 00:04:23.680 --> 00:04:26.639 I knew those woods. I'm not saying that to sound tough. 77 00:04:27.199 --> 00:04:29.519 I'm saying it because I need you to understand that 78 00:04:29.560 --> 00:04:32.199 what happened to me in October of nineteen seventy eight 79 00:04:32.600 --> 00:04:35.560 wasn't the result of some greenhorn wandering into the timber 80 00:04:35.800 --> 00:04:38.959 and getting spooked by a bear. I was twenty three. 81 00:04:39.480 --> 00:04:43.199 It was the second week of October elk season. I'd 82 00:04:43.240 --> 00:04:47.279 gone out alone, which wasn't unusual for me. I preferred it. Actually, 83 00:04:47.959 --> 00:04:50.600 I was hunting a drainage off the dozed wallops up 84 00:04:50.639 --> 00:04:53.600 above a creek bottom where I'd seen sign earlier that week. 85 00:04:54.360 --> 00:04:56.639 There'd been fresh rubs on the alders and some good 86 00:04:56.680 --> 00:04:59.560 tracks in the mud along the water. I figured i'd 87 00:04:59.560 --> 00:05:01.800 get up and to a good spot before light and wait. 88 00:05:02.720 --> 00:05:05.600 I drove in before dawn, parked at a pull off 89 00:05:05.639 --> 00:05:08.959 i'd used a dozen times, grabbed my rifle, my pack 90 00:05:09.000 --> 00:05:12.680 and a thermous and started hiking in. It was cold, 91 00:05:13.120 --> 00:05:16.360 low forties, maybe fog Sitting in the valley like it 92 00:05:16.399 --> 00:05:19.480 always does that time of year. You couldn't see more 93 00:05:19.519 --> 00:05:21.879 than forty or fifty yards in front of you, and 94 00:05:21.959 --> 00:05:24.800 even that was fuzzy. I remember thinking it was going 95 00:05:24.839 --> 00:05:26.560 to be one of those mornings where you just sit 96 00:05:26.600 --> 00:05:29.560 there and listen because the visibility wasn't going to do 97 00:05:29.600 --> 00:05:32.560 you any favors. I got up to my spot about 98 00:05:32.560 --> 00:05:35.360 an hour before first light. It was a little bench 99 00:05:35.399 --> 00:05:38.319 above the creek, with some big furs behind me and 100 00:05:38.360 --> 00:05:41.399 a good view down into the drainage. I sat down 101 00:05:41.439 --> 00:05:45.399 against a tree, settled in and poured a cup of coffee. 102 00:05:45.639 --> 00:05:49.480 Everything was quiet, normal, quiet, the kind where you hear 103 00:05:49.519 --> 00:05:52.000 the creek and the drip off the branches and nothing else. 104 00:05:52.879 --> 00:05:55.920 I sat there for maybe forty five minutes. The sky 105 00:05:56.000 --> 00:06:00.160 started getting gray, just barely. You know that moment where 106 00:06:00.199 --> 00:06:02.560 it's not really daylight yet, but you can start to 107 00:06:02.560 --> 00:06:06.560 make things out, Trees take shape, you can see the ground. 108 00:06:07.319 --> 00:06:09.639 That's where I was when I heard something moving below me. 109 00:06:10.319 --> 00:06:10.959 It was heavy. 110 00:06:11.680 --> 00:06:14.319 That was the first thing I noticed. Not a deer, 111 00:06:14.879 --> 00:06:17.720 not even an elk. The sound of it was wrong. 112 00:06:18.199 --> 00:06:21.480 I've heard elk moving through brush a thousand times. They 113 00:06:21.480 --> 00:06:25.879 cracked through it, they snapped things. This was different. Whatever 114 00:06:26.000 --> 00:06:28.560 was down there was pushing through thick stuff, and it 115 00:06:28.639 --> 00:06:32.439 sounded like it was doing it slowly, deliberately, like it 116 00:06:32.519 --> 00:06:34.839 was trying not to make noise, but couldn't avoid it 117 00:06:35.079 --> 00:06:38.040 because of how big it was. I put my coffee 118 00:06:38.079 --> 00:06:40.879 down and brought the rifle up across my knees. I 119 00:06:40.920 --> 00:06:44.600 wasn't alarmed, not yet. I figured it might be a bear. 120 00:06:45.439 --> 00:06:48.240 We've got black bears all through that country, and they'll 121 00:06:48.279 --> 00:06:50.839 move through the bottoms early in the morning. I just 122 00:06:50.879 --> 00:06:54.360 sat there, watching the fog, waiting for whatever it was 123 00:06:54.399 --> 00:06:57.120 to come into view, and then the smell hit me. 124 00:06:57.720 --> 00:07:00.480 I've cleaned more elk and deer than I could ever count. 125 00:07:01.240 --> 00:07:03.959 I've been around dead animals in various states of decay. 126 00:07:04.600 --> 00:07:08.399 I've smelled bear dens. This wasn't any of that. It 127 00:07:08.439 --> 00:07:13.480 was something else entirely. It was sharp, organic, almost chemical, 128 00:07:14.040 --> 00:07:16.279 like if you took the worst body odor you've ever 129 00:07:16.360 --> 00:07:19.240 encountered and mixed it with wet dog and rotten vegetation. 130 00:07:20.160 --> 00:07:23.319 It was so strong my eyes watered. I remember pulling 131 00:07:23.319 --> 00:07:26.319 my collar up over my nose. That's how bad it was. 132 00:07:26.959 --> 00:07:30.079 Whatever was down there had stopped moving. I couldn't hear 133 00:07:30.120 --> 00:07:33.600 it anymore, but the smell was getting stronger, which told 134 00:07:33.639 --> 00:07:37.120 me it hadn't left. It was close, and it was still. 135 00:07:38.120 --> 00:07:42.480 Then the fog shifted just enough and I saw it. 136 00:07:42.480 --> 00:07:44.839 It was standing at the base of the slope, maybe 137 00:07:44.879 --> 00:07:49.040 sixty yards below me, partially behind a big hemlock. At 138 00:07:49.040 --> 00:07:51.839 first I thought I was looking at a man. My first, 139 00:07:51.839 --> 00:07:54.120 honest to God thought was that some other hunter had 140 00:07:54.120 --> 00:07:56.639 come in on the same drainage and was standing there 141 00:07:56.639 --> 00:08:01.040 in a dark coat. Because the shape was upright, two legs, 142 00:08:01.360 --> 00:08:05.839 two arms, shoulders, but the proportions were wrong. I could 143 00:08:05.879 --> 00:08:09.040 see that even through the fog. The shoulders were too wide, 144 00:08:09.639 --> 00:08:12.759 way too wide, and the arms hung too far down. 145 00:08:13.439 --> 00:08:16.480 They hung almost to the knees. The whole body was 146 00:08:16.519 --> 00:08:19.680 thick in a way that a human body isn't, not fat, 147 00:08:20.199 --> 00:08:22.439 not muscular in the way you'd think of a bodybuilder, 148 00:08:23.040 --> 00:08:26.720 just dense, packed, like every part of it was built 149 00:08:26.759 --> 00:08:29.480 heavier than it had any right to be. The way 150 00:08:29.519 --> 00:08:32.840 it stood was wrong too. A man standing still in 151 00:08:32.879 --> 00:08:37.639 the cold shifts his weight, he moves, he adjusts. This 152 00:08:37.679 --> 00:08:42.360 thing was rooted, absolutely motionless from the waist down. The 153 00:08:42.399 --> 00:08:45.360 stillness of it was unnatural. It was the kind of 154 00:08:45.399 --> 00:08:48.720 stillness that takes effort, or that comes naturally to something 155 00:08:48.720 --> 00:08:51.600 that's used to standing still for a very long time, 156 00:08:52.360 --> 00:08:58.000 waiting watching. It was covered in hair, dark brown, almost black, 157 00:08:58.519 --> 00:09:03.159 and it was matted in places, clumped, wet looking. The 158 00:09:03.200 --> 00:09:05.399 hair on the shoulders was longer than on the arms. 159 00:09:06.080 --> 00:09:08.600 It didn't look like fur, not the way a bear's 160 00:09:08.600 --> 00:09:11.759 coat looks uniform and groomed. This was more like the 161 00:09:11.799 --> 00:09:16.879 hair on a neglected animal, uneven, patchy in some spots, 162 00:09:16.919 --> 00:09:20.559 thick in others. I couldn't see the face clearly, not 163 00:09:20.639 --> 00:09:23.960 at that distance, not in that fog, but I could 164 00:09:24.000 --> 00:09:26.360 see the head and the head is what made my 165 00:09:26.440 --> 00:09:30.759 hand start shaking, because it wasn't round, it wasn't shaped 166 00:09:30.759 --> 00:09:33.840 like a bear's head. It came up to a slight point, 167 00:09:33.919 --> 00:09:36.399 like the top of the skull was ridged, and the 168 00:09:36.440 --> 00:09:39.440 head sat right on the shoulders. There was no neck, 169 00:09:39.960 --> 00:09:42.399 or if there was, it was so thick and short 170 00:09:42.559 --> 00:09:44.759 that it just blended into the shoulders like they were 171 00:09:44.799 --> 00:09:47.720 one piece. I sat there with the rifle across my 172 00:09:47.799 --> 00:09:51.759 knees and I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I'm not 173 00:09:51.840 --> 00:09:54.720 exaggerating when I tell you that my body wouldn't respond. 174 00:09:55.559 --> 00:09:58.240 It was like everything below my neck just locked up. 175 00:09:58.879 --> 00:10:02.399 I've never felt anything like it. I've been in tight spots. 176 00:10:02.600 --> 00:10:05.320 I've had close calls in the woods. I fell off 177 00:10:05.320 --> 00:10:07.399 a cliff face when I was nineteen and broke my 178 00:10:07.480 --> 00:10:10.679 collar bone, but nothing has ever produced the kind of 179 00:10:10.720 --> 00:10:14.279 fear I felt in that moment. It was primal. That's 180 00:10:14.320 --> 00:10:17.080 the only word for it. Something in my brain was 181 00:10:17.120 --> 00:10:20.799 screaming at me to be steel, be invisible, don't let 182 00:10:20.879 --> 00:10:24.600 it know you're here. It turned its head, not toward me, 183 00:10:25.360 --> 00:10:28.200 off to the left, and when it turned I saw 184 00:10:28.240 --> 00:10:32.840 the profile of the face. The jaw was massive, just enormous. 185 00:10:33.320 --> 00:10:37.000 It jutted forward, not like an ape exactly, but close. 186 00:10:37.840 --> 00:10:40.399 The brow was heavy and sloped, and the skin on 187 00:10:40.440 --> 00:10:43.759 the face, the parts that weren't covered in hair, was gray, 188 00:10:44.559 --> 00:10:49.840 not dark gray, not pale, just gray, like old concrete, 189 00:10:49.919 --> 00:10:53.000 like something that hadn't seen sun in its life. It 190 00:10:53.039 --> 00:10:55.320 stood there for maybe ten more seconds. 191 00:10:55.639 --> 00:10:56.120 I don't know. 192 00:10:56.759 --> 00:10:59.480 Time didn't work right. It could have been thirty seconds, 193 00:10:59.559 --> 00:11:02.519 or it could have been five. Then it turned and 194 00:11:02.600 --> 00:11:06.559 walked into the fog and the brush, and it was gone, 195 00:11:06.799 --> 00:11:10.440 just like that, no hurry, no sound at all this time, 196 00:11:10.960 --> 00:11:14.120 it just walked away and disappeared. I didn't move for 197 00:11:14.159 --> 00:11:18.000 another twenty minutes. I'm not proud of that. I sat 198 00:11:18.039 --> 00:11:20.159 there with my rifle in my lap, and I shook. 199 00:11:20.720 --> 00:11:24.440 My legs were shaking, my hands were shaking. My jaw 200 00:11:24.559 --> 00:11:27.159 was clinched so tight that when I finally forced myself 201 00:11:27.159 --> 00:11:30.919 to relax, my teeth ached. When I finally stood up, 202 00:11:31.120 --> 00:11:33.559 I didn't go down the slope. I didn't track it. 203 00:11:34.320 --> 00:11:36.559 I turned around and walked straight back to my truck. 204 00:11:37.240 --> 00:11:40.600 I didn't run, but I wanted to. Every cell in 205 00:11:40.639 --> 00:11:43.799 my body wanted to. I kept looking over my shoulder 206 00:11:43.840 --> 00:11:46.600 the whole way back. I'd take ten steps and stop 207 00:11:46.639 --> 00:11:51.879 and listen. Ten more steps, stop, listen. It took me 208 00:11:51.960 --> 00:11:53.879 twice as long to hike out as it did to 209 00:11:53.960 --> 00:11:56.759 hike in. I got to the truck and sat there 210 00:11:56.759 --> 00:11:59.240 with the engine running and my hands on the steering wheel. 211 00:12:00.000 --> 00:12:02.879 Couldn't stop looking at the tree line. I kept expecting 212 00:12:02.919 --> 00:12:06.360 to see it again. Every shadow between the firs looked 213 00:12:06.399 --> 00:12:10.879 like shoulders. Every dark stump looked like something crouching. I 214 00:12:10.919 --> 00:12:12.919 sat there for at least ten minutes before I could 215 00:12:12.919 --> 00:12:16.159 bring myself to put the truck in gear. I drove home, 216 00:12:16.440 --> 00:12:19.080 and I didn't tell my wife what happened. I didn't 217 00:12:19.120 --> 00:12:22.679 tell my father, I didn't tell anyone. I put the 218 00:12:22.799 --> 00:12:25.240 rifle in the safe, and I told everyone I was 219 00:12:25.279 --> 00:12:29.080 done hunting. My dad thought I'd lost my mind. My 220 00:12:29.120 --> 00:12:32.600 buddies gave me grief about it for years. I left them. 221 00:12:33.080 --> 00:12:35.679 I wasn't going to explain myself because I knew how 222 00:12:35.679 --> 00:12:38.639 it would sound. I knew exactly how it would sound. 223 00:12:39.440 --> 00:12:42.000 I didn't go back into those woods for twenty six years. 224 00:12:42.600 --> 00:12:46.600 Twenty six years, Brian, I'm not talking about that specific drainage. 225 00:12:47.120 --> 00:12:50.440 I mean any woods. I didn't hunt I didn't hike. 226 00:12:50.840 --> 00:12:53.480 I didn't go on camping trips with my kids. My 227 00:12:53.519 --> 00:12:56.039 wife would want to do a weekend at a campground somewhere, 228 00:12:56.240 --> 00:12:58.799 and I'd find a reason not to go. She thought 229 00:12:58.840 --> 00:13:01.240 I just didn't enjoy it anymore more. I let her 230 00:13:01.240 --> 00:13:05.159 think that. The truth is, I was afraid, a twenty 231 00:13:05.200 --> 00:13:07.240 three year old man who'd spent his whole life in 232 00:13:07.240 --> 00:13:10.559 the mountains, and I was afraid to go back because 233 00:13:10.600 --> 00:13:13.399 I'd seen something standing in that fog that should not 234 00:13:13.440 --> 00:13:17.320 have been there, something that wasn't a bear, wasn't a man, 235 00:13:18.080 --> 00:13:21.080 wasn't anything I could make sense of then, and honestly 236 00:13:21.639 --> 00:13:24.600 I still can't. I finally went on a walk in 237 00:13:24.639 --> 00:13:27.720 the woods again when my granddaughter was four. She wanted 238 00:13:27.720 --> 00:13:30.080 to go on a nature walk. She was tugging on 239 00:13:30.120 --> 00:13:33.879 my hand, and I did it for her. But I'll 240 00:13:33.879 --> 00:13:38.519 tell you this, it wasn't peaceful, it wasn't fun. I 241 00:13:38.559 --> 00:13:42.799 spent the whole time watching the trees, listening. My granddaughter 242 00:13:42.840 --> 00:13:45.279 was pointing at birds and picking up rocks, and I 243 00:13:45.360 --> 00:13:48.360 was scanning the timber like I was on patrol. I'm 244 00:13:48.399 --> 00:13:50.720 seventy one years old, and I still don't like being 245 00:13:50.759 --> 00:13:51.279 in the woods. 246 00:13:51.320 --> 00:13:51.879 After dark. 247 00:13:52.679 --> 00:13:56.240 I've had a good life, raised two kids, had a career, 248 00:13:56.840 --> 00:13:59.679 built a house with my own hands. But there's this 249 00:13:59.720 --> 00:14:02.600 one thing sitting in the back of everything, this one 250 00:14:02.639 --> 00:14:05.519 morning in nineteen seventy eight that I've never been able 251 00:14:05.559 --> 00:14:09.799 to put down. I've tried, Lord knows, I've tried. I've 252 00:14:09.799 --> 00:14:12.039 told myself it was a bear on its hind legs. 253 00:14:12.600 --> 00:14:15.480 I've told myself the fog was playing tricks. But I 254 00:14:15.559 --> 00:14:18.639 know what I saw. I saw a face. I saw 255 00:14:18.679 --> 00:14:21.120 a gray skin and a jaw that could have crushed 256 00:14:21.159 --> 00:14:24.399 a fence post. I saw something that looked almost human 257 00:14:24.720 --> 00:14:30.279 but wasn't. And the way it moved when it left, unhurried, casual, 258 00:14:31.080 --> 00:14:33.480 like it had somewhere to be, and I was beneath 259 00:14:33.519 --> 00:14:37.159 its Notice, that's the part that haunts me most. It 260 00:14:37.200 --> 00:14:40.759 wasn't afraid of me, not even a little bit. Whatever 261 00:14:40.799 --> 00:14:44.120 I saw that morning was real, It was solid, it 262 00:14:44.240 --> 00:14:47.559 was alive, and it was something that made me, a 263 00:14:47.600 --> 00:14:50.320 man who grew up in those mountains, feel like prey. 264 00:14:51.399 --> 00:14:52.519 I don't know what you do with that. 265 00:14:53.519 --> 00:14:54.440 Dale. 266 00:14:54.480 --> 00:14:57.559 Twenty six years, that's how long Dale stayed out of 267 00:14:57.559 --> 00:15:00.000 the woods. A man who grew up in those mountain 268 00:15:00.480 --> 00:15:03.080 who learned to hunt before he could drive, and one 269 00:15:03.159 --> 00:15:05.679 encounter took all of it away from him. Stay tuned 270 00:15:05.720 --> 00:15:09.720 for more Backwoods bigfoot stories. We'll be back after these messages. 271 00:15:11.720 --> 00:15:14.960 That's not somebody telling a story for fun. That's somebody 272 00:15:14.960 --> 00:15:18.519 describing a wound. Our next account takes us across the 273 00:15:18.519 --> 00:15:21.759 country to the mountains of West Virginia. A woman named 274 00:15:21.840 --> 00:15:24.960 Karen was twenty four years old in nineteen ninety three, 275 00:15:25.360 --> 00:15:28.240 camped alone on a trail she'd hiked dozens of times. 276 00:15:29.039 --> 00:15:31.360 What happened to her that night and what she saw 277 00:15:31.399 --> 00:15:35.159 the next morning ended her relationship with the outdoors permanently. 278 00:15:36.080 --> 00:15:39.200 Here's Karen. I'm writing this because my therapist told me 279 00:15:39.240 --> 00:15:42.919 it might help. I know that probably sounds dramatic, but 280 00:15:42.960 --> 00:15:45.399 I've been dealing with this for over thirty years, and 281 00:15:45.399 --> 00:15:48.440 I'm tired of it living only in my head. I 282 00:15:48.480 --> 00:15:51.080 found your show about six months ago, and I listened 283 00:15:51.120 --> 00:15:54.120 to most of your episodes in about two weeks. Some 284 00:15:54.200 --> 00:15:56.120 of them scared me so badly I had to turn 285 00:15:56.159 --> 00:15:58.600 them off and come back the next day. But I 286 00:15:58.679 --> 00:16:02.240 kept coming back because these people were describing things I recognized, 287 00:16:03.080 --> 00:16:06.679 not the exact same thing, but the feeling, the way 288 00:16:06.720 --> 00:16:09.600 it sits in your chest afterward, the way you can't 289 00:16:09.600 --> 00:16:12.759 explain it to anyone without feeling like you're losing credibility. 290 00:16:13.759 --> 00:16:17.399 My name's Karen. I'm fifty seven. I live in Virginia now, 291 00:16:17.799 --> 00:16:20.519 but I grew up in Elkins, West Virginia, right on 292 00:16:20.600 --> 00:16:24.480 the edge of the Monongahela National Forest. My family wasn't 293 00:16:24.480 --> 00:16:27.159 what you'd call outdoorsy, but you didn't have to be. 294 00:16:27.840 --> 00:16:30.759 The forest was just there. You'd drive ten minutes in 295 00:16:30.759 --> 00:16:34.200 any direction and you were in it. I started hiking 296 00:16:34.240 --> 00:16:37.159 in college. I went to Davis and Elkins, so I 297 00:16:37.240 --> 00:16:40.519 was right there and it became my thing. It was 298 00:16:40.559 --> 00:16:43.240 how I dealt with stress. I'd load up a pack 299 00:16:43.279 --> 00:16:44.879 and head out on one of the trails for a 300 00:16:44.919 --> 00:16:48.960 few hours. Sometimes i'd go for a full weekend. In 301 00:16:49.000 --> 00:16:52.240 September of nineteen ninety three, I was twenty four. I'd 302 00:16:52.279 --> 00:16:55.279 graduated and was working at a physical therapy clinic in town. 303 00:16:56.120 --> 00:16:58.840 I decided to do a solo overnight on a trail 304 00:16:58.879 --> 00:17:01.960 i'd done several times before. It was a loop that 305 00:17:02.039 --> 00:17:04.680 took you up into some older timber, across a couple 306 00:17:04.680 --> 00:17:08.160 of ridges, and back down along a creek. Nothing crazy, 307 00:17:08.759 --> 00:17:12.039 maybe twelve miles total. I'd always felt safe on it. 308 00:17:13.160 --> 00:17:15.160 I hiked in on a Saturday morning and set up 309 00:17:15.240 --> 00:17:18.039 camp in a spot I liked, a flat area back 310 00:17:18.079 --> 00:17:20.480 in some hard woods, about thirty yards off the trail. 311 00:17:21.240 --> 00:17:24.359 I spent the afternoon reading and walking around, had a 312 00:17:24.359 --> 00:17:28.799 fire that night, ate dinner. Everything was completely normal. I 313 00:17:28.839 --> 00:17:30.480 woke up at around two in the morning, and I 314 00:17:30.480 --> 00:17:33.480 don't know why. I wasn't cold. I didn't have to 315 00:17:33.599 --> 00:17:36.319 use the bathroom. My eyes just opened and I was 316 00:17:36.359 --> 00:17:40.079 immediately wide awake, which is unusual for me. I'm a 317 00:17:40.119 --> 00:17:43.799 heavy sleeper, always have been. But I was awake, like 318 00:17:43.839 --> 00:17:46.960 someone had flipped a switch. The first thing I noticed 319 00:17:47.039 --> 00:17:49.839 was the silence. And I know people say that all 320 00:17:49.880 --> 00:17:52.559 the time in these stories, so let me be specific. 321 00:17:53.480 --> 00:17:56.200 The creek I was camped near was still running. I 322 00:17:56.240 --> 00:18:00.079 could hear that, but there were no insects, no frogs, 323 00:18:00.519 --> 00:18:04.279 nothing in the underbrush, nothing in the canopy. It was 324 00:18:04.279 --> 00:18:07.640 September in West Virginia, Brian. The woods at night in 325 00:18:07.680 --> 00:18:11.680 September are loud. Crickets, katie DIDs, tree frogs, all of it. 326 00:18:12.440 --> 00:18:15.160 That constant chorus that you stop hearing after a while 327 00:18:15.519 --> 00:18:20.160 because it's just background noise. It was gone, all of it. 328 00:18:20.160 --> 00:18:22.519 It was like someone had muted every living thing within 329 00:18:22.519 --> 00:18:25.759 a quarter mile. I lay there in my sleeping bag 330 00:18:26.000 --> 00:18:29.200 and I listened. My heart was beating hard, and I 331 00:18:29.240 --> 00:18:32.640 didn't know why yet. I just had this overwhelming feeling 332 00:18:32.720 --> 00:18:37.279 that something was wrong. Not vague, not gradual. It was 333 00:18:37.440 --> 00:18:41.400 instant and absolute, like my body knew something my brain 334 00:18:41.480 --> 00:18:45.920 hadn't caught up to. Then I heard breathing, not mine, 335 00:18:46.079 --> 00:18:49.880 outside the tent, close so close that at first I 336 00:18:49.880 --> 00:18:52.480 thought an animal was pressed right up against the rainfly. 337 00:18:53.400 --> 00:18:58.119 It was deep, slow breathing in and out, in and out, 338 00:18:59.119 --> 00:19:01.599 and I could hear a slih wheeze on the exhl, 339 00:19:01.640 --> 00:19:06.200 like air passing through a restricted space. It was rhythmic, patient. 340 00:19:06.799 --> 00:19:09.519 There was no urgency in it. Whatever was out there 341 00:19:09.599 --> 00:19:14.119 wasn't winded, wasn't stressed. It was just standing there, breathing 342 00:19:14.799 --> 00:19:17.279 like it had all the time in the world. And 343 00:19:17.319 --> 00:19:21.960 the smell came with it, thick sour like body odor 344 00:19:22.000 --> 00:19:25.759 and rotting leaves and something else underneath, something animal that 345 00:19:25.759 --> 00:19:29.319 I couldn't place. It came through the tent fabric. It 346 00:19:29.359 --> 00:19:32.720 was inside with me. I was breathing it. I stopped 347 00:19:32.720 --> 00:19:35.799 breathing myself. I put my hand over my mouth because 348 00:19:35.799 --> 00:19:38.519 I was terrified it could hear me. I lay there, 349 00:19:38.559 --> 00:19:41.599 completely rigid, staring up at the inside of the tent, 350 00:19:42.160 --> 00:19:44.839 and I listened to that breathing for what felt like forever. 351 00:19:45.559 --> 00:19:49.440 My whole body was locked up, every muscle tight. I 352 00:19:49.440 --> 00:19:52.240 could feel my pulse in my throat, in my wrists, 353 00:19:52.640 --> 00:19:56.839 behind my eyes. Then something touched the tent, not bumped, 354 00:19:56.839 --> 00:20:00.599 it touched it. I watched the fabric press inward near 355 00:20:00.640 --> 00:20:04.200 the top, on the side closest to my head, slowly, 356 00:20:04.880 --> 00:20:07.960 like a hand pressing against it from the outside. The 357 00:20:08.000 --> 00:20:10.880 shape of it was clear against the nylon. It was 358 00:20:10.920 --> 00:20:16.039 a hand, a huge hand, fingers spread wide. It pressed 359 00:20:16.039 --> 00:20:18.839 in far enough that the fabric was almost touching my face, 360 00:20:19.400 --> 00:20:21.519 and I could feel the heat coming off of whatever 361 00:20:21.599 --> 00:20:24.599 was on the other side. That's the detail that gets 362 00:20:24.640 --> 00:20:28.960 me the most even now. The heat, whatever was touching 363 00:20:29.000 --> 00:20:32.640 my tent was radiating warmth through the nylon, like standing 364 00:20:32.680 --> 00:20:36.039 next to a wood stove. It was alive. It was 365 00:20:36.119 --> 00:20:39.079 right there, inches from my face, with nothing but a 366 00:20:39.119 --> 00:20:42.559 thin sheet of nylon between us. Then the hand moved, 367 00:20:43.160 --> 00:20:47.319 It slid downward along the wall, slowly. I could hear 368 00:20:47.319 --> 00:20:50.880 the fabric whispering under the pressure, like something feeling the 369 00:20:50.920 --> 00:20:54.000 shape of what it had found, not trying to get in, 370 00:20:54.640 --> 00:20:58.960 not tearing at it, just exploring. That realization hit me 371 00:20:59.000 --> 00:21:02.359 in real time, and it made everything worse, because it 372 00:21:02.400 --> 00:21:05.319 meant this thing was curious. It meant it was thinking. 373 00:21:05.880 --> 00:21:09.279 I didn't scream, I didn't move, I just lay there. 374 00:21:10.039 --> 00:21:13.200 The hand pulled away, the fabric settled back into place. 375 00:21:13.960 --> 00:21:18.519 I heard movement outside, not footsteps exactly, more like a shuffling, 376 00:21:18.960 --> 00:21:23.880 a shifting of weight than nothing. Silence again. I don't 377 00:21:23.880 --> 00:21:27.440 know how long I waited, an hour, maybe maybe longer. 378 00:21:28.359 --> 00:21:32.400 Eventually the insects started up again, slowly, at first, a 379 00:21:32.440 --> 00:21:36.279 cricket here, a frog there. The woods came back to life, 380 00:21:36.720 --> 00:21:38.680 and I took that as a sign that whatever had 381 00:21:38.680 --> 00:21:41.960 been out there was gone. I waited until gray light, 382 00:21:42.079 --> 00:21:44.480 and then I got out of the tent. I won't 383 00:21:44.480 --> 00:21:48.240 pretend I wasn't shaking, because I was. My hands were 384 00:21:48.240 --> 00:21:51.480 trembling so badly I could barely work the zipper. I 385 00:21:51.519 --> 00:21:58.240 stepped outside and looked around, and everything looked normal. Trees, leaves, morning, fog, 386 00:21:58.920 --> 00:22:03.039 nothing out of place except the ground about five feet 387 00:22:03.079 --> 00:22:05.599 from my tent. There were impressions in the leaf litter, 388 00:22:06.039 --> 00:22:09.640 two of them side by side, where something had been standing, 389 00:22:10.039 --> 00:22:13.680 and they were enormous. Not prints exactly, not in the 390 00:22:13.680 --> 00:22:17.920 way you'd see in mud, but compressions, like something incredibly 391 00:22:17.960 --> 00:22:19.960 heavy had stood in that one spot for a long 392 00:22:20.039 --> 00:22:22.960 time and packed the leaves and dirt down under its weight. 393 00:22:23.759 --> 00:22:26.720 I packed up faster than I've ever packed in my life. 394 00:22:26.799 --> 00:22:30.000 I stuffed everything into my bag, without organizing it, without 395 00:22:30.079 --> 00:22:33.519 folding anything. I was on the trail within ten minutes. 396 00:22:34.000 --> 00:22:36.759 I made it about a quarter mile before I saw it. 397 00:22:36.759 --> 00:22:40.480 It was off to my right upslope, maybe eighty yards away, 398 00:22:41.119 --> 00:22:45.799 standing between two trees watching me. I stopped walking. My 399 00:22:45.839 --> 00:22:49.319 feet just stopped, like my legs decided independently of the 400 00:22:49.359 --> 00:22:51.319 rest of me that this was as far as we 401 00:22:51.319 --> 00:22:56.279