Speaker 1: I'm glad I ran across your channel. I really liked
listening to the stories that you tell. I like that
they're not too long and tedious. It keeps them interesting.
I have a short story for you about a time
when I had a run in with a bigfoot. I
was out in the woods with a young lady in
my full size seventy nine Ford Broncho. Oh Man, I
wonder if you still have that Broncho, Brian, I had
a seventy eight Bronco. It was white, it was an
OJ Bronco, and I loved that car, and I don't
know why I sold it, but anyway, I'm glad we
were in that vehicle, or we might have not gotten
out of there. We were down in the woods doing
what couples do in the woods at night, when we
heard a noise from something that was making sure we
knew it was there. We never heard any hoops or hollers,
nor any tree knocks. It was just the god offless
breaking of limbs and trees I've ever heard in my life.
It was loud and angry. It didn't just want us
to know what was there, It wanted us to leave.
I talked to a bigfoot researcher who said it was
mad because at one point I got out and urinated
thereby marking its territory as mine. Well, maybe that's so.
The researcher also said that this bigfoot was probably a loner,
and that's why we never heard any grunts or tree knocks.
He didn't have any friends around to communicate with whatever
it was telling us, we stopped doing what we were doing,
and we decided to get the heck out of there.
My lady friend was so scared she curled herself up
in a ball in the front seat and hugged her
legs with her head down. I was scared, but I
had to keep control and drive us out. I was
checking the mirror and what little I could see in
the brake lights for anything coming up behind us. We
worked our way around a corner, holding our breasts, expecting
at any time to see something jump out at us
or show itself. Then we hit a straight away and
I kicked it from third into fourth. But up ahead
was a tree lying across the road. It wasn't so
big that we couldn't get over it in my Bronco,
but a smaller or less powerful vehicle probably wouldn't have
made it. I made the split second decision not to stop.
I knew there was no way I was getting out
of that truck and moving that tree by hand. We
were moving so fast when we hit it, I didn't
feel like much more than a bump in the road.
We were so scared we didn't feel it anyway. We
had it straight from my buddy's house, who lives down
in that area. He and I had done a lot
of exploring on our four wheelers over those woods. The
bigfoot researcher told me that the bigfoot probably knew my
buddy because it followed us to his house that night.
After that, he had several strange occurrences happen. One night,
he heard all kinds of bumps and growls outside, like
someone was throwing things at the house. One thing I
don't understand. It was pretty clear that it wanted us
to get out of there, But why did it block
the road with a tree. Was it trying to push
us further in the woods, or was it trying to
hurt us? Or was it trying to catch us on
the tree. If so, what did it want? This all
happened off of Highway two twenty one in Forest City,
North Carolina. If anyone has an answer for what it
was trying to do, I'd sure like to know. This
is a story I heard a few years ago. It
would be a crime not to let your audience hear this.
The story takes place in the nineteen eighties in the
state of Utah and is about two young boys who
have the shock of their lives when they came face
to face was something that most people claim doesn't exist.
A mining company needed two workers to clean out a
mine located on a mountain side in a remote area
in Utah. As luck would have it, they found two
college students from Washington State who were interested in the job.
One of the boys was nineteen and the other was
twenty one. Strangely enough, they were both bigfoot enthusiasts and
were no strangers to being alone in the woods. They
arrived at the mine and set up their campsite. It
was a very organized campsite, and these lads were to
remove debris from this mine with buckets. A few days passed,
and then early one morning, one of the mine owners
was awoken to the ring of his phone. It was
his partner. The boys had called him from a phone
booth in town. Parently they had wrecked their car coming
down the mountain side. Baffled by the news, the two
men met and then drove to the town through pouring rain.
While driving, the man who took the call said the
boys claimed to have been chased off the mountain by
a Sasquatch. They both laughed it off, thinking these kids
just wanted out of the job and needed help after
wrecking their car. Had they not wrecked, the owners probably
would have never heard from them again. This is what
they thought, but they would soon discover the truth. Finally
making it to town with the rain increasing throughout the drive,
they found the phone booth where the boys asked them
to meet. They expected to find the boys in a
nearby cafe or place of business, and they never actually
looked at the phone booth until one of the young
men yelled for them. They looked over and inside the
booth were two college aged men huddled together, wearing nothing
but their boxer shorts. They ushered the kids into the truck,
where it was warm, and then drove a block to
the first cafe they saw. Once inside, the waitress brought
them towels and blankets, and soon they were dry and
warming up it with some food finally in their stomachs.
The two employees told this story. The young men had
taken the job so that they could be in an
area with reported bigfoot activity. Their plan was to do
their work and spend their off time searching for the creature.
While doing research in Washington State, they had captured vocalizations
bigfoot screams and howls, and had brought the recordings along
with them to play on a loud speaker. After finishing
their work the evening before, they set up the loud
speaker and began playing the sounds, and something roared at
them from a distance away. They turned the speaker off,
and then they discussed it, and they ultimately agreed that
the roar they heard was a bear, so they restarted
blasting the sounds into the woods. Well, whatever had roared
before began roaring again, and this time it was closer,
and it was a continuous series of sounds. Now they
knew they had attracted a sidequatch and there was no doubt,
and they were excited. They admitted that they should have
left the area at that point, but in their minds,
this was the coolest thing to happen since their bigfoot
investigations had begun, so they cranked up the volume and
let the recording play. The roarers got louder and they
could now hear this thing coming toward them. Branches were
cracking as it moved closer, and they could actually hear
the footfalls of the creature. Now, not wanting to overdo it,
they cut the feed to the speaker and moved into
their tent, where they apparently thought it was safe, and
then began making vocalizations with their own voices. I think
we can all agree that these young men had a
screw loose. Maybe they were just over confident that they
were safe. That was about to change, though. The tent
was quickly jerked upward, lifting both men into the air,
until the floor of the tent ripped out, sending them
a few feet to the ground. In an instant they
were sandwiched between two enormous, smelly creatures. The only conclusion
would be obvious that the creatures had no interest in
harming these young men, because they turned their attention to
the camp and began tearing everything to pieces. With the
raging creature's attention elsewhere, the young men saw their chance
to escape and only their underwear. They sprinted to the
car and took off down the mountain. At some point
in their escape they had a tree which made the
car useless, and from there they walked into town through
the freezing rain. But still their employers weren't sure if
they believed the story. One suggested they get the young
men into some clothes and then go to their campsite
to salvage what they could. Both of the students shook
their heads and emphatically stated that they were never going
on that mountain again, and as a matter of fact,
they were clear about getting home as soon as they could,
even if they had to walk back to Washington State
in the freezing rain wearing only their boxers. The owner
of the cafe had joined the group. He told all
the men that he would get the young men outfitted
in new clothes and help them find a way home.
The two owners of the mine, however, were curious about
the story, and they wanted to visit the camp. If
this story were true, there would be evidence to back
the story up. Up so up the mountain they drove
in the rain. By the time they reached the campsite,
the rain had stopped and on the way up the
old mining road, they stopped to inspect the car the
men had abandoned. It looked like they had hit every
tree and rock on their way down. The damage they
saw was not from the impact where the car now sat.
They hit everything. It was in a place from which
it could be easily towed. Whether the car was worth
salvaging would be up to the body shop and the
insurance adjuster, assuming these kids had insurance. Now at the campsite,
the owners stood at a distance taking in the destruction.
It looked nothing like a campsite. It was more like
a corner of a landfill. Debris was scattered about, and
nothing looked like its previous form. A cast iron stove
that was once inside the tent was now broken into pieces,
and pieces of cass littered the area. Coolers had been crushed,
and tents and sleeping bags shredded. Even suitcases were ripped open,
and the boy's clothes didn't survive. Every garment was torn apart.
Everything that once made up the organized campsite was now destroyed.
Even the soda cans were crushed flat, every single can.
One of the owners bent over and picked up a
piece of a toothbrush. Neither man had spoken since they arrived,
and finally one broke the silence. You believe this sosquat story, Well,
I didn't until I saw this. I think we need
to sell this claim and cut our losses, said the other, Well,
you read my mind. Let's get off this mountain. The
mine owners left the mountain and then made certain the
college students had a way back to Washington, and after
thinking the cafe owner, they left and they never returned
to their claim. My story started many years ago in
northern Minnesota, being a hardened Minnesotan Minnesotan Minnesotan, I don't
know how to say that Minnesotan is one of my
attributes that I wear proudly. Growing up in the harsh
north woods. I often think of the encounters I experienced
as a young man growing up. However, not until the
last five or so years did I realize what I encountered.
I met my wife thirty five years ago, and I
married her. In all those years I let her know
of my strange yet unverified happenings in the woods. She
would say, just lay off the bourbon. It wasn't uncommon
for me to take my leave of her and venture
out into the deep woods for quite some time. Camping
is my passion, and I did it often. Moving to
Wisconsin in nineteen ninety, we started our family, and I've
been blessed with a son and a daughter and are
very close to me and my wife. Both my kids
are avid outdoors people and we get to experience nature
as it was meant to be. After careful consideration, I've
decided to share my most recent experience that makes me
think that these creatures of the forest are not only
here but mean us no harm. I'll begin by saying
that my thoughts on bigfoot are met with hardcore evidence
that they truly are real. My son and I are
active in hardcore hunters. That being said, we often abandon
all other activities when hunting season is open. Last spring
twenty and nineteen, my son and I were camping on
private land in western Wisconsin. The landowner lets us do
whatever we want in exchange for chores that need to
be done on the property. Prior to my last encounter,
may I say that not only has my son and
my daughter and yes, my wife have not only seen
our hairy creature, but have come to enjoy the gifting
process that we have started with them hunting this property.
We have experienced and become somewhat comfortable with the sightings
and gifting of our hairy friends. I am blessed that
my daughter, wife, and son have gotten to experience what
I have. At first, we were terrified of what we
saw and experienced, but over time though, we realized that
they mean us no harm as long as we respect
their space. It was May of last year and my
son and I were turkey hunting on a spring hunt.
We set up camp and what we call the bottoms.
It's three hundred acres of woods and it's our playground
and wild game is plentiful. The landowner dropped by with
his wife and we drank and relaxed by a fire.
Deep into the evening. We already had three days of
camping under our belts and had some interesting things happen.
It was Friday afternoon and we saw turkeys, but none
were close enough to harvest. We headed back to camp
and the landowners showed up and brought bourbon and chicken
quarters for the open fire. Strumming my guitar and feasting
on campfire chicken and having a relaxing evening. They left
around ten thirty and drove back to Madison. My son
and I stayed up drinking and singing to my guitar.
When I noticed something strange in the darkness. Just out
of the light of the fire, one could make out
an outline of two beings in the distance. I reached
over and tapped my son, and I pointed in the
direction of what I was seeing. Holy shed, Dad, there
they are, yep, I said, are you scared now? He said,
I think they're like playing, if that's possible, as he laughed. Well.
Around midnight, we decided that it was time for bed,
so we retired to the tent. Getting up to go
hunting at four point thirty would come pretty quick. Before
going to bed, I went to potty behind the tent
and the creatures were gone, so I climbed in by
my sleeping bag and it was a wonderful end to
the day. One of the many nights my son and
I have camped in these woods, it became obvious that
we had company. It was only after many nights that
we realized that our forest friends would always let us
know that they were there. It was spooky and comforting
at the same time. And let me say that after
getting used to it, we slept pretty well. Prior to retiring.
We stoked the fire with wood, so we had a
fire in the morning, and I naturally wake up early,
and even though we stayed up late, I would be
up at my normal time of three thirty or so
making coffee and breakfast. But I didn't that morning. I
was perhaps really tired, as I slept until five am.
But it wasn't me that woke up. Something outside the
tent pushed me out of my cot The push was
powerful and firm, and I sprang awake and I reached
over to my son and he was there, and I said,
get up, man, it's late. And I ran out to
see if I could see who or what had pushed
me out of my bed. My son said, Dad, what's
got you all wound up? And I told him what
had just happened. Well, he laughed and he said, well,
they probably know what our schedule is and they woke
you up. I took comfort in that, as it made sense.
I went on to make coffee, and being late as
turkeys were already out of their roost, we ate breakfast
and decided to say screw it and just hang out
at camp. But what happened next is something that I
will always remember. We were planning on camping another two days,
so we were running low on eggs and bacon, and
so we jumped in my truck and we drove the
ten miles into town to get what we needed. We
got back to camp around nine thirty am, and what
we saw was simply amazing. There was a huge tom
laying next to the table where the camp stove was,
and its neck was broken. Well, I'll be down. He
gifted us a turkey. I said, how freaking cool is that.
Our excitement was overwhelming, and we shouted thank you out
into the woods, and even though it was now ten am,
we both took a shot a while turkey still in disbelief,
and decided to gift them with some eggs and bacon.
I cooked up a batch and put it on a
paper plate and walked over to our gifting site and
I left it there. Shortly thereafter, we heard a whoop
and it was loud and close, and I smiled and
I said, well, it's safe to say they got our gift.
And I walked over to the gifting site about three
hundred yards away and the plate was gone and in
its place was a shiny, speckled rock. It's not the
first time that we've been gifted rocks, and for whatever reason,
they seem to gift back with rocks. Well that's our story. Yes,
I know some of you will find it unbelievable, but
everything I've said is true. I know for sure if
people would put down their phones and reconnect with nature,
one never knows what may happen. It's a couple of
weeks ago you did a phone interview with a Colorado
big game outfitter that has gotten me curious about this
exact area, and I'll explain why. He mentioned he was
in southwest Colorado for the past several years. Myself and
several friends from here and around the country meet up
in elk hunt in the San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado.
We are in the area near the town of Dolores,
a little more specifically, out in the mountains above Groundhog Reservoir.
Back in twenty eighteen, I was hunting on top of
a mountain called Black Mesa. The snow was kneed mid
thigh deep on me and I'm six foot tall, and
as I came up over a small ridge into a
larger clearing. My path took me through what I came
to see as a track of large prints. At first,
I didn't really think much of it, as they were
obviously a day or two old and the weather and
fresh snowfall had made some effect on them. The more
I looked at them, the more intrigued I became. While
the weather may have eroded them, they were still almost
double the size of my size twelve boot. There were
no drag marks between the steps. They were postholed across
the clearing with what was clearly a bipedal left right gate.
What made me think more about it was the stride,
which was four to five feet between each step. There
is no way somebody in my size could replicate that,
And even more amazing was the fact that the trackway
never broke its stride. It came up out of the woods,
across the clearing and back down into the woods, with
a total distance of one hundred yards, and that was
what I could see. I took a few photos, which
I'm embarrassed to say are of mediocre quality at best.
Being more focused on looking for ELK, I took a
short break and then continued on my way. I mentioned
the tracks to the other guys without much response. Nobody
in our group saw anything out of the ordinary for
the rest of the trip. In twenty nineteen, in the
same area, myself and another guy had a couple of
unexplained events on separate nights. This time we were camped
near the side of Black Mesa. On our second night
in camp, I was awakened by a rhythmic knocking of
wood on wood. Two knocks, Wait ten seconds, and then
two more. Wait a few more seconds, and then two more.
This went on for a couple of minutes, and it
seemed to be fairly close. At one point after the
two knocks, there was an additional knock that sounded much
farther away, and at that point the double knock started
to move away, still knocking at ten second intervals until
I couldn't hear them any longer. I was the only
person that heard those knocks that night, and again I
failed to investigate it, being that it was in the
middle of the night and it was twenty five degrees
out side. I rolled over and I went back to sleep.
I mentioned it to the group the next morning, but
nobody heard anything. The third night, another member of our
group heard the same knocks, but he too didn't get
up to explore. The area behind our camp was heavy
dark timber heading downhill toward a draw with a creek
at the bottom. I put out a couple of game
cameras but didn't capture anything. Those were the only two
occurrences we had last year. These two incidents made me
curious if the outfitter you interviewed was in that same area.
That entire area is surrounded by cattle ranches and guided huntland.
I've been interested in the subject of bigfoot for a
long time, although a lot of things I've seen on
the internet I've been fairly skeptical of. These two events
have peaked my interest into digging a little deeper.