Speaker 1: Today, I want to tell you about a journey that
Speaker 1: I've been on for most of my life. Ever since
Speaker 1: I was a kid, I've heard tales of bigfoot and
Speaker 1: wild men while spending time with my friends and family.
Speaker 1: As I grew older and read more about the paranormal,
Speaker 1: my interest in encryptids and other things strange only deepened.
Speaker 1: That's why I'm so excited to share with you what
Speaker 1: I've personally become involved with the Untold Radio Network. The
Speaker 1: Untold Radio Network is a live streaming podcast network that
Speaker 1: airs a new show every day across all podcast platforms, YouTube,
Speaker 1: and more. They have eight different shows on all sorts
Speaker 1: of exciting topics such as bigfoot, cryptids, UFOs, aliens, and
Speaker 1: much more. I even have my own show called Weird Encounters,
Speaker 1: where I talk about all things strange. This is more
Speaker 1: than just a podcast network. It's a community that allows
Speaker 1: me to meet so many amazing people who share their
Speaker 1: stories and experiences with strange. If you're interested in hearing
Speaker 1: more of these stories and learning more about the paranormal
Speaker 1: and encryptids, make sure you check out the Untold Radio
Speaker 1: Network for all kinds of exciting shows. It's free to subscribe.
Speaker 1: So what are you waiting for visit www dot untold
Speaker 1: radionetwork dot com today.
Speaker 2: Warning this episode contains harsh language and descriptions that may
Speaker 2: not be suitable for younger listeners or those who may
Speaker 2: be sensitive to such material. Listener discretion is strongly advised.
Speaker 3: Now are you reporting? I got a screen going on here?
Speaker 3: Something just killed my dog. Something killed your dog? My dog.
Speaker 3: We're flying through here, over the tree. I don't know
Speaker 3: how it did it? Okay, damn, I'm really confused now.
Speaker 3: All I saw was my dog coming over the fence,
Speaker 3: and they would have dead. Want to hit the ground,
Speaker 3: I entertaining cars. All I saw was my dog coming
Speaker 3: over the fence.
Speaker 2: Are you reporting?
Speaker 3: We got some wonder something crawling around out here? Did
Speaker 3: you see what it was? I'm out here looking them
Speaker 3: near the window now, and I don't need anything. I
Speaker 3: don't want to go out dight. He is quite hello.
Speaker 3: Hit the boddy out here? Went on out there? I
Speaker 3: thought of a bit of about text nine. I don't know.
Speaker 3: Do you see ann ount there? Yeah?
Speaker 1: I'm walking right out an upright wolf siding on cinder Road.
Speaker 1: A prominent local government official who wishes to remain anonymous,
Speaker 1: shared a remarkable encounter he experienced last Saturday night. Around midnight.
Speaker 1: He was driving home from a friend's house in Benzonia,
Speaker 1: taking the back roads back to Traverse City. While traveling
Speaker 1: down Cinder Road several miles outside Bendon, he noticed a
Speaker 1: pair of glowing eyes reflecting in his headlights up ahead.
Speaker 1: Assuming it was a deer, he slowed down, and as
Speaker 1: he got closer, however, he realized it was something much
Speaker 1: larger and darker than a deer. By this point, he
Speaker 1: had slowed his truck to around thirty miles per hour
Speaker 1: and was still several hundred feet from the creature. As
Speaker 1: he approached, he got a better look and described it
Speaker 1: as resembling a very large, dark wolf. The startling detail
Speaker 1: it wasn't on all fours, but standing upright on its
Speaker 1: back legs next to a road killed deer. He estimated
Speaker 1: the creature stood over six feet tall with very dark
Speaker 1: fur that seemed almost black. Curious and confused, he slowed
Speaker 1: his truck to a stop. The creature hadn't moved an
Speaker 1: inch and was still staring directly at him. For a
Speaker 1: brief moment, he thought it might be some kind of prank,
Speaker 1: maybe a giant stuffed animal someone had placed by the road.
Speaker 1: It was so still and unusual that he couldn't imagine
Speaker 1: it being real. But just as he had that thought,
Speaker 1: the creature suddenly dropped down onto all fours and sprinted
Speaker 1: across the road into the woods with incredible speed. He
Speaker 1: sat frozen in his truck for a few moments, trying
Speaker 1: to process what had just happened. He admitted he wasn't
Speaker 1: sure what to make of it, but he was certain
Speaker 1: of one thing. It was real. When asked if he
Speaker 1: had been drinking that night, he firmly denied it, saying no,
Speaker 1: whatever that was, it was for real. Although he was
Speaker 1: extremely curious, he didn't dare wander into the woods to investigate.
Speaker 1: Using a flashlight from the safety of his truck, he
Speaker 1: spotted tracks leading into the forest on the opposite side
Speaker 1: of the road. Luckily, he had his digital camera with
Speaker 1: him and managed to snap a photo of one of
Speaker 1: the prints. He later showed the picture to a friend,
Speaker 1: explaining that the pawprint measured around seven or eight inches long.
Speaker 1: He even placed a shotgun shell next to the print
Speaker 1: for scale. In another photo, he explained that he only
Speaker 1: ventured a couple of steps from his truck to take
Speaker 1: the pictures, unwilling to go any further. The soft roadside
Speaker 1: mud had preserved the tracks clearly, but he wasn't about
Speaker 1: to risk stepping into the woods alone at night. When
Speaker 1: asked if it could have been a bear, he dismissed
Speaker 1: the idea immediately. He's an experienced bear hunter and has
Speaker 1: spent years hunting in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. He knows what
Speaker 1: a bear looks like up close, and this was definitely
Speaker 1: not a bear. That's his story. He left it up
Speaker 1: to me whether to believe it or not. But knowing
Speaker 1: him and seeing the photos, I have no reason to
Speaker 1: doubt him. I've heard the stories and the legends about
Speaker 1: creatures like this, and I always thought they were just
Speaker 1: for entertainment. But after hearing what he experienced, I'm starting
Speaker 1: to see things in a different light. I've got a
Speaker 1: story for your listeners that's as bizarre as it is fascinating.
Speaker 1: It all started back in nineteen seventy four in the
Speaker 1: Lost Creek Canyon area, when two young boys, the McBride brothers,
Speaker 1: reported seeing a sasquatch like creature on an old hog farm.
Speaker 1: Their story sparked ridicule from locals, but The details they
Speaker 1: shared have puzzled people ever since. The McBride boys described
Speaker 1: the creature as massive, standing about nine feet tall. What
Speaker 1: made their account even stranger was the blue belt the
Speaker 1: creature was wearing, a detail no one had heard before.
Speaker 1: One of the brothers claimed to have seen the creature
Speaker 1: on the farm itself, while the other glimpsed it as
Speaker 1: it ran off into the woods, carrying a pig under
Speaker 1: its arm. The ridicule didn't stop other strange reports from emerging.
Speaker 1: A few weeks later, two teenagers came forward with their
Speaker 1: own encounter. They were parked in Plumb Canyon, a popular
Speaker 1: spot for young couples, when they claimed the creature approached
Speaker 1: their car in the moonlight. The teen saw its face,
Speaker 1: hair covered with a bullet shaped head, and it was
Speaker 1: towering between nine and ten feet tall. The young girl
Speaker 1: screamed when she locked eyes with it, and the creature
Speaker 1: quickly ran off. By August of that year, local curiosity
Speaker 1: was high, and a man named Bob Karrossi decided to investigate.
Speaker 1: He went out to the area where the teens had
Speaker 1: been parked and discovered a footprint. The print was odd,
Speaker 1: about ten inches long and six inch wide. Some skeptics
Speaker 1: dismissed it as too small for a sasquatch, but others
Speaker 1: argued that creatures like humans very in size depending on age, gender,
Speaker 1: and build. One local woman, missus Adel Childress, believed the
Speaker 1: McBride boys and was particularly intrigued by the detail of
Speaker 1: the blue belt. A member of a local group that
Speaker 1: investigated unusual reports, she reached out to the family and
Speaker 1: other witnesses to gather more information. What followed was a
Speaker 1: series of strange events that left her questioning everything she
Speaker 1: thought she knew. Here's missus Childress's story in her own
Speaker 1: words from her journal. It was October nineteen seventy four.
Speaker 1: I had just gotten my son off to school when
Speaker 1: my husband Frank showed me an article in the Saugust
Speaker 1: New Hall Signal. The headline read does Bigfoot roam the
Speaker 1: Santa Clarita Valley. It was about the McBride boys and
Speaker 1: their sighting of a strange creature running off with a
Speaker 1: pig under its arm. As a member of a local
Speaker 1: club that in instigates reports like these, I decided to
Speaker 1: look into it. I contacted the owners of the hog
Speaker 1: farm where the sighting happened and spoke with the boys.
Speaker 1: Only one of them had seen the creature on the
Speaker 1: farm itself, while the other caught a glimpse of it
Speaker 1: as it ran off. What really caught my attention was
Speaker 1: the glowing blue belt they both described. I reported my
Speaker 1: findings back to the group, but none of us had
Speaker 1: ever heard of such a detail before. It was completely new.
Speaker 1: After sharing the story with our group, I decided to
Speaker 1: issue a statement to the signal, hoping someone else might
Speaker 1: come forward with more information. Of course, the statement brought
Speaker 1: its share of jokes. My neighbors teased me, and Frank
Speaker 1: couldn't stop calling the whole thing a bunch of hogwash.
Speaker 1: My kids, though, took it more seriously. They heard stories
Speaker 1: from school friends whose families owned farms near the McBride's,
Speaker 1: and some of them shared similar tales. These stories were
Speaker 1: never reported publicly, likely out of fear of being laughed at.
Speaker 1: A Few weeks later, I got a call from a
Speaker 1: couple who said that they had seen a UFO near
Speaker 1: a place called Texas Canyon. They described the object as
Speaker 1: disc shaped, hovering silently over the tree tops. The sighting
Speaker 1: was unsettling enough on its own, but the timing felt
Speaker 1: connected somehow, as if the area was experiencing a wave
Speaker 1: of strange activity. That period in nineteen seventy four was
Speaker 1: full of incidents that seemed to defy explanation. Looking back,
Speaker 1: I still can't say for sure what the McBride boys saw,
Speaker 1: but I believe them the detail of the blue belt
Speaker 1: was too specific to be fabricated, and their fear was real.
Speaker 1: Whatever it was they encountered, it left a mark on
Speaker 1: our community and on everyone who tried to make sense
Speaker 1: of it. This story raises more questions than it answers.
Speaker 1: What was the significance of the blue belt? Was it
Speaker 1: something the creature had found or part of some unknown
Speaker 1: context we can't understand? And what about the footprint? Could
Speaker 1: it belong to a younger or smaller individual of the
Speaker 1: same species. I hope your listeners find this story as
Speaker 1: fascinating as I do. It's a reminder that the world
Speaker 1: is full of mysteries, and sometimes the truth is stranger
Speaker 1: than fiction. A friend of the truth, my name's Jeff Smith,
Speaker 1: and I wanted to share an experience that my friends
Speaker 1: and I had in the Huachuka Mountains of Cochise County, Arizona.
Speaker 1: It's an encounter I think about often and Even years later,
Speaker 1: I'm still trying to process what happened. It all began
Speaker 1: during the summer of two thousand and three. Two friends
Speaker 1: and I had planned a weekend hiking and camping trip.
Speaker 1: The wildfires that year were bad and much of the
Speaker 1: area was off limits, so our usual plans were out
Speaker 1: the window. We had wanted to head up Carr Canyon,
Speaker 1: but it was closed. After some discussion and pouring over
Speaker 1: our map, we decided to try Miller Canyon instead. It
Speaker 1: was a bit further out and not as developed, but
Speaker 1: we figured it would be worth it. The drive out
Speaker 1: there was uneventful. The desert gave way to the rolling
Speaker 1: foothills and eventually the dense, pine covered peaks of the Wachukas.
Speaker 1: These mountains are known for their rugged beauty, but also
Speaker 1: for their remoteness. It's the kind of place where you
Speaker 1: can hike for miles and never see another soul. That
Speaker 1: solitude was part of the appeal for us. After bouncing
Speaker 1: along the dirt road for what felt like forever, we
Speaker 1: finally found a spot to set up camp. It was
Speaker 1: an ideal about twenty yards off the road, but we
Speaker 1: didn't see any other cars or campers, so we figured
Speaker 1: we'd have the area to ourselves. We pitched our small,
Speaker 1: dome style tent and settled in for the night. The
Speaker 1: sky was clear and filled with stars, and the moon
Speaker 1: was so bright it cast shadows on the ground. It
Speaker 1: was the kind of night that makes you appreciate being
Speaker 1: out in nature, away from the noise and stress of
Speaker 1: everyday life. Little did we know that tranquility wouldn't last.
Speaker 1: Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up
Speaker 1: to my friend yelling. At first, I was groggy and disoriented,
Speaker 1: but his voice was urgent, almost panicked. I sat up
Speaker 1: in my sleeping bag and asked him what was going on.
Speaker 1: He was sitting upright, his face pale in the dim light.
Speaker 1: I just saw bigfoot, he said. I wanted to laugh
Speaker 1: it off, who wouldn't, But the look on his face
Speaker 1: stopped me. He wasn't joking. My friend was a pretty
Speaker 1: laid back guy, not someone who spooped easily, and he
Speaker 1: looked genuinely terrified. He explained what happened. I woke up
Speaker 1: and looked up through the mesh of the tent roof.
Speaker 1: He said, the moon was bright and I saw something
Speaker 1: standing over us. At first I thought it was a person.
Speaker 1: But then I realized how big it was. It had
Speaker 1: to be at least eight feet tall, maybe more. Its
Speaker 1: head was long, and it didn't really have a neck.
Speaker 1: Its head just kind of merged with its shoulders. It
Speaker 1: was leaning forward, looking straight through the mesh at me.
Speaker 1: I could see the silhouette perfectly against the moonlight. Its eyes.
Speaker 1: I swear I could see the whites of its eyes.
Speaker 1: We just stared at each other. It felt like forever,
Speaker 1: but it was probably thirty seconds. Then it moved away,
Speaker 1: and that's when I yelled. As he talked, I felt
Speaker 1: a chill run down my spine. I glanced at our
Speaker 1: other friend, who had woken up by then, and he
Speaker 1: looked just as unsettled. None of us dared to leave
Speaker 1: the tent to investigate. We stayed up the rest of
Speaker 1: the night, listening every sound. The rustle of leaves, the
Speaker 1: crack of a branch made us jump, but the creature
Speaker 1: didn't come back, at least as far as we could tell.
Speaker 1: The next morning, we packed up and left as quickly
Speaker 1: as we could. The whole drive back, my friend kept
Speaker 1: replaying what he'd seen. He wasn't the type to make
Speaker 1: things up, and I trusted him completely. I still do
Speaker 1: whatever he saw that night, he believed it was real,
Speaker 1: and honestly, so do I. This wasn't my only brush
Speaker 1: with the unexplained. A few years later, I was hiking
Speaker 1: alone in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah, bush whacking through
Speaker 1: an aspen grove out of nowhere. I got this distinct
Speaker 1: feeling of being watched. It wasn't just paranoia. It was
Speaker 1: almost tangible, like someone's eyes were boring into me. I
Speaker 1: stopped and looked around, but there was nothing. The feeling
Speaker 1: didn't go away, though, so I started singing out loud
Speaker 1: to calm my nerves. I've been alone in the woods
Speaker 1: plenty of times before, but this was different. I didn't
Speaker 1: realize it at the time, but I've since learned that
Speaker 1: this feeling of being watched is a common phenomenon among
Speaker 1: people who encounter sasquatch. Looking back, I wonder if something
Speaker 1: was there just out of sight. If I'd been more
Speaker 1: aware of the reports in that area, I might have
Speaker 1: been more vigilant. Since these experiences, I've thrown myself into
Speaker 1: learning more about Bigfoot and similar encounters. I'm hoping to
Speaker 1: have another experience, and I want to understand what these
Speaker 1: creatures are why they seem so elusive and what their
Speaker 1: presence means. Thanks for giving me a chance to share
Speaker 1: my story. I hope it resonates with your audience, and
Speaker 1: stay tuned for more sasquatch O got to see. We'll
Speaker 1: be right back after these messages.
Speaker 3: Hi there.
Speaker 1: I love the show and I've been debating for months
Speaker 1: whether to write in about what happened to me last spring.
Speaker 1: I guess I've been a little nervous, but hearing all
Speaker 1: the other stories has made me realize I'm not the
Speaker 1: only one who's experienced something strange. So here it is.
Speaker 1: Last May, I rented a small cabin up in the
Speaker 1: Cascades for a solo getaway. I'd been feeling burned out
Speaker 1: from work and just needed some peace and quiet. The
Speaker 1: cabin was pretty remote, no neighbors, no Wi Fi, barely
Speaker 1: any cell service, just a cozy little place tucked into
Speaker 1: the trees with a creek running nearby. It was exactly
Speaker 1: what I needed. The first couple of days were blissful.
Speaker 1: I read books, cooked simple meals, and hiked the trails
Speaker 1: around the area. I'd sit out on the porch in
Speaker 1: the evenings with a cup of tea and just listen
Speaker 1: to the sounds of the forest. It was so relaxing.
Speaker 1: But on the third night things started to get weird.
Speaker 1: I was sitting on the porch around nine pm. It
Speaker 1: was dark, but not pitch black because the moon was
Speaker 1: nearly full. I remember the forest seemed unusually quiet, no
Speaker 1: crickets or frogs, just the faint rustle of leaves in
Speaker 1: the breeze. I chalked it up to the cool temperature. Then,
Speaker 1: from somewhere down near the creek, I heard this low,
Speaker 1: rumbling sound. At first, I thought it was just the water,
Speaker 1: but it kept growing louder and deeper, almost like a growl.
Speaker 1: It didn't sound like any animal I've ever heard, and
Speaker 1: I grew up camping and hiking, so I've heard my
Speaker 1: fair share of wildlife. I stood up and shined my
Speaker 1: flashlight in the direction of the noise, but I couldn't
Speaker 1: see anything. Still, something about that sound made my skin crawl,
Speaker 1: and I decided it was best to head inside and
Speaker 1: lock the door. I didn't sleep well that night. I
Speaker 1: kept waking up to what sounded like footsteps crunching on
Speaker 1: the gravel around the cabin. Every time I got up
Speaker 1: to check. Though I couldn't see anything outside. It was unnerving,
Speaker 1: but I convinced myself it was just my imagination or
Speaker 1: maybe a deer wandering around. The Next day, I decided
Speaker 1: to stay close to the cabin. I spent the morning
Speaker 1: reading on the porch, but I couldn't shake the feeling
Speaker 1: that I was being watched. Have you ever had that
Speaker 1: sensation like someone's eyes are on you, but you can't
Speaker 1: see them. That's exactly how I felt. Around noon, I
Speaker 1: walked down to the creek to fill up my water bottle.
Speaker 1: The water was crystal clear and cold, and the sound
Speaker 1: of it flowing was soothing. But as I knelt down
Speaker 1: to fill my bottle, I caught movement out of the
Speaker 1: corner of my eye. Across the creek, maybe thirty or
Speaker 1: forty yards away, there was this huge, dark figure standing
Speaker 1: partially hidden behind a tree. It was tall, at least
Speaker 1: seven feet, and its body was massive, covered in dark
Speaker 1: brown hair. My heart nearly stopped. I froze, unsure of
Speaker 1: what to do. It didn't move, but I could tell
Speaker 1: it was watching me. I could see its face clearly
Speaker 1: enough to know it wasn't a bear. Its features were
Speaker 1: more human like, with deep set eyes, and a broad,
Speaker 1: flat nose. I don't know how long we stood there
Speaker 1: staring at each other. It felt like an eternity, but
Speaker 1: it was probably only twenty or thirty seconds. Then it
Speaker 1: made this low guttural sound, almost like a grunt, and
Speaker 1: stepped back into the trees. I didn't stick around to
Speaker 1: see where it went. I grabbed my water bottle and
Speaker 1: bolted back to the cabin, locking the door behind me.
Speaker 1: My hands were shaking so badly I could barely turn
Speaker 1: the lock. For the rest of the day, I stayed
Speaker 1: inside with the curtains drawn. I couldn't stop replaying what
Speaker 1: I'd seen in my head. Part of me wanted to
Speaker 1: pack up and leave, but it was late in the
Speaker 1: day and I wasn't sure I could make it back
Speaker 1: to town before dark. That night was even worse than
Speaker 1: the one before. Around midnight, I woke up to the
Speaker 1: sound of something heavy thudding against the side of the cabin.
Speaker 1: It was loud, like someone was throwing rocks or hitting the.
Speaker 2: Wall with a log.
Speaker 1: I grabbed the flashlight and cautiously peeked out the window.
Speaker 1: I couldn't see anything at first, but then the beam
Speaker 1: of light caught a pair of glowing eyes reflect in
Speaker 1: the darkness. They were high up, too high to belong
Speaker 1: to a deer or even a bear. I slammed the
Speaker 1: curtain shut and backed away from the window, my heart racing.
Speaker 1: Whatever it was stayed outside for hours. I could hear
Speaker 1: it moving around, sometimes knocking on the walls, other times
Speaker 1: making that same deep rumbling sound i'd heard the night before.
Speaker 1: By dawn, the noises had stopped and the forest was
Speaker 1: eerily quiet again. I didn't waste any time packing up.
Speaker 1: I threw my stuff into the car and got out
Speaker 1: of there as fast as I could. Even now, months later,
Speaker 1: I can't explain what I saw and heard during those
Speaker 1: two nights. I've tried telling myself it was just a
Speaker 1: bear or some other animal, but deep down I know
Speaker 1: that's not true. Whatever it was, it wasn't like anything
Speaker 1: I've ever encountered before. Thanks for letting me share my story.
Speaker 1: It feels good to finally get it off my chest.
Speaker 1: Keep up the great work on the podcast. I'll be
Speaker 1: listening best, Sarah. I've been listening to your show for
Speaker 1: a while, and I think it's awesome how you give
Speaker 1: people a space to share these experiences. I've gone back
Speaker 1: and forth about sending this in, but I figure it's
Speaker 1: time to put it out there. This happened to me
Speaker 1: and my cousin about two years ago during a fishing
Speaker 1: trip in northern Minnesota. Every summer, my cousin Josh, and
Speaker 1: I take a week off to fish at this spot
Speaker 1: near the Boundary Waters. It's way out in the middle
Speaker 1: of nowhere. No cabins, no people, just miles of forest
Speaker 1: and lakes. We love it because it's so remote and
Speaker 1: the fishing is unbeatable. We usually set up camp by
Speaker 1: a lake that's about a three mile hike from where
Speaker 1: we park the truck. We bring everything we need for
Speaker 1: the week and just enjoy being off the grid. This
Speaker 1: particular trip started out like any other. The weather was
Speaker 1: perfect and we were catching plenty of fish. On the
Speaker 1: third night, after a long day on the water, we
Speaker 1: were sitting around the campfire just talking and roasting some
Speaker 1: hot dogs. It was a clear night and the stars
Speaker 1: were incredible. We had a couple of beers and we're
Speaker 1: just about ready to call it a night when we
Speaker 1: heard something that made both of us stop mid conversation.
Speaker 1: It was a loud, almost whooping sound coming from deep
Speaker 1: in the woods. It didn't sound like any animal we
Speaker 1: knew of, more like a mix between a howl and
Speaker 1: a yell. It carried on for several seconds, then stopped.
Speaker 1: Josh looked at me and said, what the hell was that.
Speaker 1: I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I could
Speaker 1: tell he was freaked out, and honestly I was too.
Speaker 1: We listened for a while, but everything went quiet again.
Speaker 1: Eventually we decided it was probably just some animal and
Speaker 1: went to bed. The next morning, we were up early
Speaker 1: and back out on the lake. Everything seemed normal and
Speaker 1: we didn't think much about the weird noise from the
Speaker 1: night before, But when we got back to camp that evening,
Speaker 1: something was off. For starters, our campsite looked different. Some
Speaker 1: of our gear had been moved around. The cooler we'd
Speaker 1: left by the fire pit was now tipped over near
Speaker 1: the edge of the woods, and the lid was open.
Speaker 1: At first, we thought maybe a bear had gotten into it,
Speaker 1: but all the food was still inside. The strangest thing
Speaker 1: was that one of our fishing poles, which we'd left
Speaker 1: leaning against a tree, was now lying in the middle
Speaker 1: of the clearing, snapped in half. Josh joked that maybe
Speaker 1: Bigfoot had decided to do some fishing, but I could
Speaker 1: tell he was uneasy. I was too. We cleaned up
Speaker 1: the mess, got the fire going, and tried to shake
Speaker 1: it off. That night, things got a lot weirder. We
Speaker 1: just climbed into our tents when we heard heavy footsteps
Speaker 1: coming from the woods behind us. Whatever it was sounded big,
Speaker 1: like a person or a large animal, but heavier than
Speaker 1: anything I'd expect to be out there. Josh unzipped his
Speaker 1: tent and stuck his head out. Did you hear that?
Speaker 1: He whispered, Yeah, I said, grabbing my flashlight. We both
Speaker 1: stepped out of our tents and shined our lights toward
Speaker 1: the sound. At first, we didn't see anything, but then
Speaker 1: I caught movement near the tree line. Something huge and
Speaker 1: dark was standing there, just beyond the reach of our lights.
Speaker 1: I couldn't make out much detail, but I could tell
Speaker 1: it wasn't a bear. It was standing upright and its
Speaker 1: shoulders were massive. I felt frozen, like my brain couldn't
Speaker 1: process what I was looking at. Then it led out
Speaker 1: this low, growling sound that sent chills down my spine.
Speaker 1: Josh grabbed my arm and whispered, we need to get
Speaker 1: back in the tents now. We scrambled inside and zipped
Speaker 1: up our hearts pounding. The footsteps continued for what felt
Speaker 1: like hours, circling the camp site. At one point we
Speaker 1: heard something brush against the side of my tent. I
Speaker 1: held my breath, terrified it was going to try to
Speaker 1: get inside, but it eventually moved away. By morning, it
Speaker 1: was quiet again, but neither of us had slept much.
Speaker 1: We packed up camp as fast as we could and
Speaker 1: hiked back to the truck, constantly looking over our shoulders.
Speaker 1: We didn't talk much on the drive home. I think
Speaker 1: we were both trying to make sense of what had happened.
Speaker 1: Josh hasn't mentioned it since. Honestly, I haven't brought it
Speaker 1: up either. I'm not sure what we saw or heard
Speaker 1: that night, but I know it wasn't normal. I'm still
Speaker 1: trying to wrap my head around it, but hearing other
Speaker 1: people's stories has made me feel a little less crazy.
Speaker 1: Keep up the good work with the podcast. It's helping
Speaker 1: people like me feel less alone. Dan Hi, Brian, I've
Speaker 1: been listening to your podcast for a while now and
Speaker 1: finally worked up the nerve to share what happened to
Speaker 1: me and my family. This took place back in nineteen
Speaker 1: ninety three on our family farm in rural Alabama. I've
Speaker 1: never told this story to anyone outside the family, but
Speaker 1: after hearing other folks share their experiences, I figured maybe
Speaker 1: it's time I let this out. I grew up on
Speaker 1: a small hog farm that had been in our family
Speaker 1: for generations. My parents, my older brother Eli, and I
Speaker 1: worked that farm day in and day out. It was
Speaker 1: hard work, but I loved it, especially the quiet nights,
Speaker 1: when the whole place seemed to hum with the sounds
Speaker 1: of nature, the croak of frogs, the chirp of crickets,
Speaker 1: and the occasional grunt from the hogs in their pins.
Speaker 1: But in the summer of ninety three, that peace was shattered.
Speaker 1: It started small. The first thing I noticed was the
Speaker 1: unease in the animals. The hogs were restless, pacing and snorting,
Speaker 1: like something had them on edge. At first, we thought
Speaker 1: it might be coyotes prowling nearby, but there were no
Speaker 1: signs of them, no tracks, no howling at night. Still
Speaker 1: the unease grew. A week later, I found the chicken
Speaker 1: coop door torn clean off its hinges. The strange thing
Speaker 1: was no chickens were missing. It was like something had
Speaker 1: ripped the door off just to scare them or us.
Speaker 1: Eli tried to brush it off, saying it was probably
Speaker 1: a stray dog or maybe even a black bear, but
Speaker 1: I wasn't so sure. We didn't have many bears in
Speaker 1: our area, and besides, what kind of animal goes through
Speaker 1: the trouble of ripping off a door but doesn't take
Speaker 1: any of the birds. The next few nights were tense.
Speaker 1: I kept waking up to strange noises outside, shaping sounds,
Speaker 1: heavy footsteps, even low growls that made my chest tighten.
Speaker 1: One night, I swore I heard something sniffing around the
Speaker 1: outside of my bedroom window. I was too scared to look.
Speaker 1: Things escalated one night in late July. It was sweltering hot,
Speaker 1: and Eli and I were sitting on the porch trying
Speaker 1: to catch a breeze. The hogs were making a racket
Speaker 1: in their pen, a mix of squealing and snorting that
Speaker 1: put us both on edge. Eli grabbed the shotgun and
Speaker 1: muttered something about going to check it out. I followed
Speaker 1: him carrying a flashlight. As we got closer to the pin,
Speaker 1: the smell hit me first, a rank, musky odor like
Speaker 1: a wet dog and rotting meat. We stopped dead in
Speaker 1: our tracks. When we saw the pin, the door had
Speaker 1: been ripped off. The heavy metal hinges twisted like they
Speaker 1: were made of tinfoil. The hogs were all pressed into
Speaker 1: one corner, squealing in terror. That's when we saw it,
Speaker 1: standing in the middle of the pen, holding one of
Speaker 1: our largest hogs in its arms. Was a creature I'll
Speaker 1: never forget as long as I live. It was tall,
Speaker 1: easily seven feet and covered in dark, matted fur. Its
Speaker 1: body was muscular, but what struck me most was its face.
Speaker 1: It looked like a wolf, but more human somehow, with
Speaker 1: a long snout, sharp teeth, and glowing amber eyes that
Speaker 1: seemed to pierce right through me. It didn't run when
Speaker 1: it saw us. It just stared at us for a moment,
Speaker 1: almost like it was sizing us up. Then it let
Speaker 1: out this low, guttural growl that made every hair on
Speaker 1: my body stand on end. Eli raised the shotgun, but
Speaker 1: before he could fire, the creature turned and leapt over
Speaker 1: the fence with the hog still in its arms. I
Speaker 1: swear it cleared that fence like it was nothing. We
Speaker 1: watched frozen as it disappeared into the woods, carrying the
Speaker 1: three hundred pound hog like it weighed nothing. We didn't
Speaker 1: sleep that night. We stayed up pacing the house, shotgun
Speaker 1: loaded and ready, but the creature didn't come back, not
Speaker 1: that night anyway. The next morning we found tracks leading
Speaker 1: from the pen into the woods. They were huge, larger
Speaker 1: than any dog or wolf tracks I'd ever seen, and
Speaker 1: they had distinct claw marks. We followed them for a while,
Speaker 1: but they disappeared into a thick patch of underbrush. After that,
Speaker 1: the activity stopped, The animals calmed down, and the strange
Speaker 1: noises at night ceased. But the memory of that thing,
Speaker 1: its glowing eyes, its sheer strength, stayed with me to
Speaker 1: this day. I don't know what we saw. Some people
Speaker 1: say it was a werewolf or a dog man, but
Speaker 1: I don't know if those labels even matter. What I
Speaker 1: do know is that it wasn't a natural animal, and
Speaker 1: it wasn't something I ever wanted to encounter again. Thanks
Speaker 1: for letting me share this. It's been years, but writing
Speaker 1: it down has brought back all the fear and wonder
Speaker 1: of that night. I don't expect anyone to believe me,
Speaker 1: but for those who've seen things they can't explain, I
Speaker 1: hope this story brings them some comfort. Take care, Sam Hey, Brian,
Speaker 1: I think enough time has passed now that I can
Speaker 1: talk about what happened to me all those years ago.
Speaker 1: It's been over four decades, but I still remember every
Speaker 1: detail like it happened yesterday. It was the summer of
Speaker 1: nineteen seventy eight. I was nineteen and working for the
Speaker 1: Forest Service as part of a seasonal trail crew in
Speaker 1: the Olympic National Forest in Washington. The job was physically demanding,
Speaker 1: but I loved being out in the wilderness, surrounded by
Speaker 1: towering trees and the endless green of the Pacific Northwest.
Speaker 1: That summer, my crew was assigned to clear and repair
Speaker 1: a remote section of trail deep in the back country.
Speaker 1: We were a small team, just me, our crew lead, Mike,
Speaker 1: and another guy named Donnie. We hiked in with our
Speaker 1: tools and supplies, set up a base camp, and spend
Speaker 1: our days cutting back overgrowth, repairing bridges, and clearing fallen trees.
Speaker 1: One evening, after a long day of work, we were
Speaker 1: sitting around the campfire. The sun had set and the
Speaker 1: forest was growing dark. Stay tuned for more Sasquatch out
Speaker 1: to see. We'll be right back after these messages. The
Speaker 1: Olympic Wilderness is dense, and at night it feels like
Speaker 1: the trees close in around you. We were joking around
Speaker 1: eating our freeze dried meals when we heard it, a scream,
Speaker 1: loud and guttural, echoing through the trees. It didn't sound human,
Speaker 1: but it didn't sound like any animal I'd ever heard either.
Speaker 1: It started low, almost like a growl, and then rose
Speaker 1: into a high pitched whale that made the hairs on
Speaker 1: the back of my neck stand up. We all froze. Mike,
Speaker 1: who was usually unshakable, looked pale. Donnie said something about cougars,
Speaker 1: but I could tell he didn't believe that anymore than
Speaker 1: I did. Cougars scream, sure, but this wasn't a cougar.
Speaker 1: We sat there in silence, listening, but the forest had
Speaker 1: gone deathly quiet. No insects, no wind, just an oppressive
Speaker 1: stillness that made me feel like we were being watched.
Speaker 1: We eventually went to bed, but none of us slept well.
Speaker 1: Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves outside
Speaker 1: the tent made my heart race. The next morning, we
Speaker 1: found something that made the night even stranger. About fifty
Speaker 1: yards from our camp, there were footprints in the dirt,
Speaker 1: huge footprints. Easily twice the size of my boot. They
Speaker 1: were deep, like something heavy had pressed into the ground,
Speaker 1: and they had an oddly human shape, except for the toes,
Speaker 1: which were much wider and longer. Mike tried to dismiss it,
Speaker 1: saying it could have been an old prank or some
Speaker 1: sort of natural phenomenon, but there was no way. We
Speaker 1: were miles from the nearest road or trailhead and nobody
Speaker 1: knew we were there. That night, things escalated. We were
Speaker 1: sitting around the fire again when the same scream echoed
Speaker 1: through the trees, louder and closer than the night before.
Speaker 1: Donnie stood up, gripping his hatchet and started shining his
Speaker 1: flashlight into the woods. That's when we saw it. At
Speaker 1: the edge of the firelight, maybe thirty yards away, a
Speaker 1: massive figure was standing just beyond the reach of the flames.
Speaker 1: It was huge, at least eight feet tall, with broad
Speaker 1: shoulders and long arms. Its body was covered in dark,
Speaker 1: matted hair, and its eyes reflected the light like two
Speaker 1: glowing embers. It didn't move at first, just stood there
Speaker 1: watching us. Then it let out a low, guttural growl
Speaker 1: and took a step forward. Mike yelled for us to
Speaker 1: get into the tent, but none of us moved. We
Speaker 1: were frozen in place, staring at this thing. As it
Speaker 1: came closer, I could feel the ground vibrate with each step. Finally,
Speaker 1: Mike grabbed a burning log from the fire and waved
Speaker 1: it in the air, shouting. The creature stopped, tilted its head,
Speaker 1: and let out another scream, this one so loud it
Speaker 1: felt like the sound went straight through me. Then it
Speaker 1: turned and disappeared into the darkness. We didn't sleep at
Speaker 1: all that night. We kept the fire burning and took
Speaker 1: turns keeping watch, but the creature didn't come back. The
Speaker 1: next morning, we packed up camp and hiked out as
Speaker 1: fast as we could. The entire way, I felt like
Speaker 1: we were being followed, but every time I looked over
Speaker 1: my shoulder, there was nothing there. When we got back
Speaker 1: to the ranger station, we told our supervisor what had happened.
Speaker 1: He listened, then told us to forget about it. You
Speaker 1: saw a bear, he said, But the look in his
Speaker 1: eyes told me he didn't believe that. To this day,
Speaker 1: I don't know what we encountered out there. I've heard
Speaker 1: stories about sasquatch, but seeing something like that with my
Speaker 1: own eyes is a different experience entirely. It wasn't just
Speaker 1: the size or the scream that scared me. It was
Speaker 1: the intelligence, the way it watched us, the way it
Speaker 1: seemed to know we didn't belong there. Even now, I
Speaker 1: avoid talking about it. Most people wouldn't believe me, and honestly,
Speaker 1: I wouldn't blame them. But for those of us who've
Speaker 1: experienced something like this, we know the truth. I hope
Speaker 1: me sharing what happened to me adds to the conversation
Speaker 1: and maybe one day we'll get some answers on what
Speaker 1: these things are. Thanks for all you do, Ken. What
Speaker 1: happened to me and my best friend back in nineteen
Speaker 1: eighty six is something I'll never forget, and it changed
Speaker 1: the course of my life. I grew up in rural Georgia,
Speaker 1: where the woods were as much a part of my
Speaker 1: life as my own. Backyard hunting wasn't just a pastime,
Speaker 1: it was a tradition, a way of life. My dad
Speaker 1: taught me how to track deer and hunt coons when
Speaker 1: I was barely big enough to carry a flashlight, and
Speaker 1: by the time I was a teenager, I could navigate
Speaker 1: those woods blindfolded. My best friend, Billy and I spent
Speaker 1: countless nights out in the woods coon hunting with our dogs.
Speaker 1: We knew every trail, creek, and holler on that land
Speaker 1: and it always felt like a second home. We'd hunted
Speaker 1: those woods for years without any trouble. Sure we'd hear
Speaker 1: the occasional coyote or see the shadow of a black bear,
Speaker 1: but nothing out of the ordinary that fall. The season
Speaker 1: was shaping up to be like any other. We had
Speaker 1: three good hounds, Rex, Duke and Sally, who lived for
Speaker 1: the chase. They were well trained, reliable, and fearless. The
Speaker 1: night it all happened started like any other. It was
Speaker 1: early November, cool but not cold, with a clear sky
Speaker 1: full of stars, perfect hunting weather. Billy and I loaded
Speaker 1: the dogs into his old truck and drove out to
Speaker 1: a stretch of land owned by a family friend. It
Speaker 1: was a big property, mostly pine forest, with a few
Speaker 1: hardwood bottoms and a creek running through it. We'd hunted
Speaker 1: there more times than I could count, and I always
Speaker 1: felt comfortable in those woods. We parked by the edge
Speaker 1: of the property and let the dogs out. They took
Speaker 1: off into the trees, eager to pick up a scent.
Speaker 1: Billy and I followed with our flashlights and rifles, listening
Speaker 1: to their barks echo through the night. There's a rhythm
Speaker 1: to coon hunting. The dogs take the lead and you
Speaker 1: follow their sounds, waiting for them to tree something. It's
Speaker 1: peaceful in its own way, a connection to the land
Speaker 1: and the animals. That night, though, something felt off. The
Speaker 1: dogs picked up a trail and took off, barking like crazy,
Speaker 1: but after a while their voices went silent. That never happened.
Speaker 1: They were trained to stay vocal when they were on
Speaker 1: a trail, so when we couldn't hear them anymore, we
Speaker 1: knew something was wrong. We called for them, and after
Speaker 1: a few minutes Rex and Sally came back, but they
Speaker 1: weren't their usual selves. Their tails were tucked and they
Speaker 1: were whining like they were scared of something. These were
Speaker 1: dogs that had faced down raccoons, wild hogs, and even
Speaker 1: the occasional coyote without flinching, but now they looked terrified.
Speaker 1: Duke didn't come back. We kept calling for him, but
Speaker 1: the woods stayed quiet except for the crunch of our
Speaker 1: boots on the leaves. That's when we heard it, heavy
Speaker 1: footsteps in the distance. Whatever it was, it was big.
Speaker 1: You can tell a lot from the sound of movement
Speaker 1: in the woods, and this wasn't a deer or a raccoon.
Speaker 1: The steps were slow and deliberate, and they sounded like
Speaker 1: they were following us. Billy and I shined are our
Speaker 1: flashlights into the trees, but we couldn't see anything. The
Speaker 1: footsteps stopped and the woods went dead silent. No crickets,
Speaker 1: no wind, just an oppressive, heavy stillness. We decided to
Speaker 1: head toward the creek, thinking Duke might be down there.
Speaker 1: When we got to the water, we found him, but
Speaker 1: not the way we'd hoped. Duke was lying in the mud,
Speaker 1: his body still and his head crushed like someone had
Speaker 1: slammed it against a rock. I felt a wave of
Speaker 1: sickness wash over me. I'd seen dead animals before, but
Speaker 1: this was different. This was brutal. We didn't say much.
Speaker 1: Billy picked up Duke's body and we started back toward
Speaker 1: the truck. Rex and Sally stayed close to us, their
Speaker 1: tails still tucked and their ears pinned back. As we walked,
Speaker 1: we heard the footsteps again, this time closer. They seemed
Speaker 1: to be following us, staying just out of sight. The
Speaker 1: smell hit us next a rank musky odor. It was
Speaker 1: so strong it made my stomach churn. When we finally
Speaker 1: got back to the truck, we loaded Rex and Sally
Speaker 1: into the cab and placed Duke's body in the bed.
Speaker 1: As Billy shut the tailgate, the headlights lit up the
Speaker 1: tree line, and that's when we saw it. Standing just
Speaker 1: beyond the trees was a figure I'll never forget. It
Speaker 1: was massive, at least eight feet tall, with broad shoulders
Speaker 1: and long arms. Its body was covered in dark hair,
Speaker 1: and its face looked almost human, but with features that
Speaker 1: reminded me of an ape. The eyes glowed red in
Speaker 1: the light, and it just stood there watching us. We
Speaker 1: didn't move, it didn't either. For what felt like an eternity,
Speaker 1: we stared at each other, and then it turned and
Speaker 1: walked back into the woods. We didn't stick around to
Speaker 1: see if it would come back. Billy climbed into the
Speaker 1: driver's seat and I jumped in beside him. We drove
Speaker 1: out of there as fast as we could, not saying
Speaker 1: a word until we were miles away. Billy never went
Speaker 1: hunting again after that night. He sold his dogs in
Speaker 1: gear and refused to talk about what we'd seen. As
Speaker 1: for me, I've only been hunting a handful of times since,
Speaker 1: and I can't say I've ever felt comfortable in the
Speaker 1: woods again. That night haunted me for years. I couldn't
Speaker 1: shake the image of that thing standing in the tree line,
Speaker 1: or the sound of those heavy footsteps following us. I
Speaker 1: started looking for answers, trying to make sense of what
Speaker 1: we'd experienced. I got into podcasts like yours, listening to
Speaker 1: other people's encounters and realizing I wasn't alone. I've read
Speaker 1: every book I could find on sasquatch and watched countless documentaries.
Speaker 1: It's become almost an obsession, not just to understand what
Speaker 1: these creatures are, but to have another encounter, one that
Speaker 1: doesn't end in violence. I still go out into the woods,
Speaker 1: sometimes not to hunt, but to listen and observe. I've
Speaker 1: heard strange howls and whoops at night, sounds that send
Speaker 1: a chill down my spine but also fill me with
Speaker 1: a sense of awe. I don't know if I'll ever
Speaker 1: see another one of these creatures, but part of me
Speaker 1: hopes I do. It means a lot to know there
Speaker 1: are others out there who've experienced the same thing and
Speaker 1: are searching for answers. Take care and happy holidays to
Speaker 1: you and your family.
Speaker 2: Mark.
Speaker 4: They say, you don't gotta go home, but you can't stay. No,
Speaker 4: I don't want to be alone. World Open, joy, this job,
Speaker 4: that chid, everything right back, Joy for me, Joy, stay right,
Speaker 4: come away. Side still SUSI still start, says side. Side
Speaker 4: still says pass unstay place and arsties and things fast,
Speaker 4: Uss Instan