Speaker 1: In the mid nineteen nineties, I attended Utah State University
in Cache Valley, northern Utah. I was not much of
a student or a socialite, so I spent most of
my time procrastinating on doing my homework and exploring the
nearby mountains. My roommates learned not to worry if I
didn't come home at night because I was an outdoor enthusiast.
I preferred camping under the stars to sleeping on a
lumpy twin mattress in a noisy apartment complex. My summer
job allowed me to work in remote places like the
Front Range of the Rockies, the Celway in Idaho, and
the Bob Marshall Wilderness near the Canadian border. I'd spent
more time in the mountains and woods than anyone I knew.
But I had never heard of a howl, seen a track,
or come across any evidence that would support a sasquatch theory.
I didn't even believe my father's story of a friend
who had seen a hairy arm take a pie through
a kitchen window. I was always comfortable around critters and
had a knack for approaching them in the wild. I
have had deer and elk come within feet of me
while sitting down and eating my lunch. I saw a
rocky mountain wolf in Montana before the government introduced the
Canadian packs, which led to the native population going instinct.
I've had both black and grizzly bears so close that
I could pet them, and I have fed cowm moose
from my hand In the wild. The mountains near my
university were steep and rugged. There were lots of places
in the canyons where the brush was thick and a
person would get pretty torn up if he went through
much of it. The peaks were high and beautiful when
the early snowstorms dressed them in white, except for the
steep cliff faces where the snow can't rest. There are
several well known caves in the mountains. Minnetonka Cave is
managed by the government and you can take a guided
tour if you like to see amazing underground formations. The
famous Logan Cave was a popular destination for adventurers when
I was young, but it is now secured by a
huge iron gate to keep people out and allow bats
to fly as they please. You can park on the
nearby highway and check out the entrance and I'm certain
there is at least one other cave in those hills.
I know because I found it. Sometime in nineteen ninety four.
I was searching for new places to find adventure. It
was still warm out. I was in sandals and short
pants and my favorite threadbare T shirt. I hiked less
than a mile from a rutted and washed out dirt
road when I decided to climb up a talus slope
to the base of a cliff. Hiking up those loose
rocks was kind of like climbing stairs, except every so
often a step would give way and start a mini avalanche.
It took almost no time to reach the top of
the slide, and from there I followed the base of
the cliff for several hundred yards, looking for a spot
where I could safely climb to the top. One gap
in the rock looked promising, and I started climbing up
that chute. It was easy climbing, and when I was
almost to the top, I heard a rattlesnake and I
saw it sunning itself on the rock at my eye level. Now,
I'm not afraid of snakes, nor do they bother me
under normal circumstances, but Seeing those dark eyes and flicking
tongue just inches from my face sent me into a
state of hysteria. I pushed back from the I can
spun halfway around, and I launched myself back down the
rock face. I landed five feet lower than where I jumped,
and with the adrenaline pumping, I quickly gained control and
landed safely. I was just coming to terms with what
had happened when that stupid snake started crawling down toward me.
Instead of clearing out, I assumed the position of a
person being arrested, with my hands and feet spread wide
against the rock while the snake crawled quickly down through
the rocks in front of me. I thought about killing
it and making his skin into a hat band, but
instead I took a moment to admire the color patterns
on his back and the intimidating shape of its head.
I was grateful it was getting out of my way,
and after the rattler had passed me, I resumed my
climb up through the rocks to the place where the
snake had been basking. At this spot was a huge
rock wedge into the chute that I was climbing. My
heart was still beating fast, and I looked around for
other snakes. I found none, and I turned my attention
to a huge rock. This boulder seemed out of place,
and it felt somehow unnatural. When I climbed up on top,
I realized it was blocking the entrance to a cavern.
There were even scratch marks, as if the rock had
been moved and then replaced multiple times. I tried to
move it, but that was useless. The thing had to
weigh more than five hundred pounds and it was jammed
in there really tight. I pulled my flashlight out to
see down into the cavern, but as Murphy only knows,
the light wouldn't come on. I would have to come
back another time if I wanted to look back into
the cave. I hiked back to my car and I
returned to town. I got a sledgehammer and a hand drill,
and a set of wedges and a leaf rock splitters
from the geology professor that I knew. There was still
plenty of light when I got back to the mountain,
but as I started up the steep tall of slope,
the craziest hailstorm I have ever seen rolled in my
head and my back and my ears were pelted with
half inch balls of ice. The pain was intense, and
I retreated as fast as I could to the trees
in the canyon below. They gave me shelter and I
nursed my wounds while the hail piled up around me.
And when the storm subsided, I hiked up to the
cliff one more time, but for some reason, I couldn't
find the rocky chute I had climbed into earlier that day.
I searched for hours, but it got dark and I
had to leave. It was more than six months later
before I was able to return and search for the cave.
It was a beautiful spring day, but the rock slide
was still covered in deep icy snow. I hiked it
easily and found the spot where I had climbed up
the cliff before. I was better prepared and I had
two working flashlights, good tools for breaking the rock. I
was so excited I broke that boulder up in a
matter of minutes. Using one of my lights. I could
see that the opening got smaller as it went back
into the cliff. I was never a skinny person, but
I managed to squeeze my way back about fifteen feet
from the entrance, and I was pleasantly surprised when it
opened up again into a small chamber. I shined my
light around. I immediately realized that the chamber was not natural.
It had been opened up and excavated by someone. The
ceiling and the floor of the cavern were flat, and
four straight walls made the room gim metric. Along the sidewall,
I could see three rotten logs that had been torn
up to make what appeared to be a bed of compost.
I also found sick deer hoofs. The walls were bare
except for one spot that had been darkened by an
ancient fire. I didn't find anything else at that time,
and I assumed it was a primitive shelter that had
been abandoned. I left everything as I had found it,
and I decided to go back with supplies to turn
the shelter into my own private man cave. It took
a week or more before I had the items I
wanted for the cave, and I returned with great anticipation.
The first things I packed into the cave were a lantern,
a cot, and a but tane stove, and a huge
military down sleeping bag. I was making my second hull
with food and a giant bean bag. When I heard
rocks tumbling down the cliff. Now that's nothing unusual in
the early spring, so I kept hiking and I climbed
right up to the opening, and then I realized what
had caused the rock fall. Another big boulder was way
in front of the cave opening. If I had been
inside when it fell, i'd still be there today. I
set the bean bag down and pulled myself up on
the new rock to survey the damage and assess the situation,
and to my surprise, another century rattlesnake was waiting silently
in the sunlight, and he looked intent on standing his ground.
I had one of those feelings like I was being watched,
but mostly I just laughed in spite of my situation.
I was grateful not to be trapped, and pretty sure
it would be a bad idea to open the entrance again.
My beautiful surplus sleeping bag and antique oil Leonard would
never keep me company in the wilderness again. But at
least I got out of there alive. I tossed my
bean bag down the hill and resumed climbing to the
top of the cliffs. The snow at the top had melted,
the sun had hit it, and the soil was saturated.
I noticed some big Indians in the ground that could
have been footprints, and again I had the feeling that
I was being watched. This time I looked up to
see if I was alone. That's when I became a believer.
Standing just a few feet away was a man staring
at me. Now I say a man because he was
a man, but he was not a normal fellow. He
was standing with his hands on his hips, and he
was giving me the look like my grandmother would have
given me if she caught me stealing a cookie out
of her kitchen. He didn't speak, but he stared at
me for a few moments while I stared back at him.
He stood fully upright, and there was no doubt that
he was intelligent. He was immensely larger than me, standing
at least two feet taller, and was much wider in
the shoulders. Physically, he appeared to be exceptionally strong. He
was naked. He had black hair covered ring most of
his body except for the black skin on his cheeks
and forehead. In his ears, I could tell that he
had his manhood, but it was buried under a big
mat of hair. I didn't stare long, but it was
clear that the hair in his pelvic region was thicker
than elsewhere on his body, and it provided a bit
of modesty to his nakedness. The hair on his shoulders
was like a thick shawl, and on his chest it
thinned and I could see through to his skin. The
most striking feature I remember was that he looked very
old and ancient. He was like a living fossil. I
did not panic or feel scared. I don't know why,
but I decided to speak to him. I said hello,
and I told him my name and asked for his
His eye seemed to soften for a moment, and I
was sure that he understood me, but instead of speaking,
he extended a huge arm, a hand and a finger
to point the way for me to leave. I walked
away slowly, and I never turned to look back. Since
that day, I have heard many stories of people encountering Bigfoot.
Many of the stories have common features that clearly define
what Bigfoot looks like. Many people comment on his distinctive smell,
glowing red eyes, and exceptionally long arms, which leads me
to believe they saw the same type of creature I saw.
But the man I saw did not have any of
those features. His eyes were piercing, but I gathered it
was because he was upset with me trying to move
into one of his caves. I didn't smell anything out
of the ordinary, and the length of his arm seemed
proportional for a person. I'm old and fat now, and
I doubt I could make the hike back into his cave.
Maybe someday when the snow was melting in the spring sun,
and I'll find a way to get back up there.
And maybe when that time comes, he'll let me once
again see him face to face. Maybe next time he'll
even tell me his name. Okay, that was a great story.
I actually spent about thirty minutes looking through this huge
list of stories that I have to read to you all,
and I picked this one out intentionally because number one,
I only have time to do one story in this
podcast today. Number two, it just struck me as a
really well written, well thought out story, and it's really
intriguing to me. I like these stories where people see
something they get older and they want to go back
and look at the area. One of the stories that
really intrigued me in that way was a story I
did years ago called The Handhouse. You can do a
search for that and find it. I can almost feel,
you know, I'm getting older. I'm six. I just turned
sixty three back in August, and I'm starting to feel of,
I don't know, a little nostalgia for my youth and
the things that I saw and did and love what
I'm doing now. But so this story kind of struck
me as interesting, So that's why I read it. Okay,
in the coming days and weeks, I'll be putting more
podcasts out. I just I have to tell you and
be candid with you. I've been gone for a couple
about two and a half weeks, and I just didn't
feel like doing the podcast. I spent time with my wife.
We hooked up our RV, we went down to the
beach and spent a few days, and I've been doing
some stuff around my place and doing a little bit
of work. I'm kind of officially semi retired. I'm just
working for one customer right now and they have little
little bones they pitched to me, and I knock them
out make a little extra pocket change. But I'm starting
to feel the pull now that it's gonna about to
start getting cooler. To really pour myself back into this podcast.
I've got Steve Lilly Number nineteen done. I'm loving writing it.
I know I'm about a year later on it, but
I don't know. I just decided on this podcast. I
just do it when I want to, and I do
it when I really feel compelled to do it. And
I loved reading this story. I had a great time
coming back to this. So that's kind of where I'm at.
Nobody cares, but I just thought i'd let you know.
So I appreciate you listening to this podcast, and we
will see you guys on the next one. Thanks so much.