Speaker 1: Okay, y'all, is a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and I'm about
Speaker 1: to read this story, and my dog just shitting the
Speaker 1: floor in my office here. She's got runny poops, so
Speaker 1: if you hear me, just ignore it. It smells horrible
Speaker 1: in here. Plus A, I've got about fifteen hens on
Speaker 1: my porch. I have my door open, so you may
Speaker 1: hear some noise from them. I don't know. None of
Speaker 1: this means anything, but I'm just letting you know what
Speaker 1: I go through to get these stories out. Plus, it's
Speaker 1: a beautiful day and I need to be outside working
Speaker 1: in my yard so my wife won't be mad at me.
Speaker 1: But I'm in here doing this because I really want
Speaker 1: to get a podcast out this afternoon. Somebody pat me
Speaker 1: on the back and say, it'll be okay, Cam, It'll
Speaker 1: be okay. Just read the story. The writer on this
Speaker 1: story again wants to be anonymous, and here's what he writes.
Speaker 1: This happened in late julye just after they cut the
Speaker 1: hay and the round bells had been taken, and there
Speaker 1: was a short grass. It's an excellent opportunity to shoot coyotes.
Speaker 1: My dog was lying a few yards away from me,
Speaker 1: in a mowed down path to the creek. She was
Speaker 1: lying in my overgrown food plot. The Johnson grass had
Speaker 1: since taken over and it was a good six feet tall.
Speaker 1: While she slept, I was watching the hayfield from my
Speaker 1: side beside. Now, I had my ten twenty two with
Speaker 1: me with a full magazine. I've had that twenty two
Speaker 1: since I was fourteen. Most folks don't think of twenty
Speaker 1: two is a good weapon for taking coyotes, but it
Speaker 1: shot straight and I've taken codies with it in the past.
Speaker 1: It was late in the evening and the sun had
Speaker 1: gone down, but I could still see My dog woke
Speaker 1: up and started turning circles and barking and looking straight
Speaker 1: up into the trees. Her head was twisted and turning
Speaker 1: as she looked up, and then I heard growls and
Speaker 1: foot stomping and the trees moving ten feet up. I
Speaker 1: stood up to yell at my dog to quit, and
Speaker 1: hit the horn in the process, which added to the confusion.
Speaker 1: Knock it off, I yelled at her, and in response,
Speaker 1: she took off for the house. Well. I yelled at
Speaker 1: her again as she passed me to cross the creek.
Speaker 1: And I think if dogs could talk. I'm guessing by
Speaker 1: the look on her face, she would have said, screw you, buddy,
Speaker 1: I'm out of here. So I sat back down and
Speaker 1: I tried to regain my composure. I was there for
Speaker 1: a long time, watching the trees and trying to see
Speaker 1: what she saw, and whatever it was never made another
Speaker 1: sound or appearance. It was getting even darker out, so
Speaker 1: I started up my side by side and headed across
Speaker 1: the creek. Patience is a virtue. I yelled back over
Speaker 1: my shoulder to the thing in the trees, and then
Speaker 1: I gave my side by side all the gas it
Speaker 1: would take, and I headed for home. My bird dog
Speaker 1: was sitting on the porch, shivering and waiting for me
Speaker 1: when I got there. And for the next couple of weeks,
Speaker 1: me and the dog would go back down to the
Speaker 1: other side of the creek to watch the hayfield for coyotes.
Speaker 1: She wouldn't lie down at the other end of the
Speaker 1: trail anymore. Instead, she'd lie behind me at the crossing point,
Speaker 1: where she'd slept until the sun started getting low. Every
Speaker 1: time we had an encounter, she would wake up, raise
Speaker 1: her head and sniff the air, and run like hell
Speaker 1: for the house. After she would leave and it was dark,
Speaker 1: branches would start breaking on the creek behind me. I
Speaker 1: took my brother in law down there once to experience it,
Speaker 1: and we heard what sounded like rocks clacking, her teeth
Speaker 1: clashing together, and it sounded like it was forty or
Speaker 1: fifty yards away. The last time it happened, I put
Speaker 1: my dog in the side by side with me and
Speaker 1: I headed down there, and I parked where I always did,
Speaker 1: away from the creek facing the hayfield. I wouldn't let
Speaker 1: her get out, and as it got dark, she raised
Speaker 1: her nose and then tried to bust out of the
Speaker 1: side by side, and I grabbed a patch of hair
Speaker 1: and held on to her for as long as I could.
Speaker 1: You're not leaving me alone out here again, I said,
Speaker 1: as I struggled to keep her in place. She kept
Speaker 1: fighting me until I had to let go, and I
Speaker 1: was afraid if I didn't, she'd get out anyway, and
Speaker 1: I'd be left with just a patch of hair and
Speaker 1: skin in my hands. She was fighting that hard, and
Speaker 1: she ran like the devil across the creek and headed
Speaker 1: straight back to the house. I stayed down there as
Speaker 1: long as I could. Branches were breaking up and down
Speaker 1: the creek behind me, and the rock clashing didn't happen
Speaker 1: this time, but I was done anyway. I got the
Speaker 1: buggy across the creek and I raced home. My dog
Speaker 1: was waiting on the porch for me, as usual, shivering.
Speaker 1: Another two weeks of this, and the grass was getting
Speaker 1: tall again and the encounters stopped. I got on the
Speaker 1: internet and I started listening to stories. Things in the
Speaker 1: past started to make sense to me, and I remembered
Speaker 1: years ago walking down there, and movement caught my own
Speaker 1: the creek bank. I thought I saw a small monkey
Speaker 1: climbing the bank with its arms and legs, heading for
Speaker 1: the Johnson grass to find cover, and I went across
Speaker 1: to where it came out, but I didn't find anything,
Speaker 1: so I wrote it off as my eyes playing tricks
Speaker 1: on me. That's just one of the many strange occurrences
Speaker 1: I've had along that creek. I don't think they're mean
Speaker 1: or want to hurt me. They've had too many opportunities
Speaker 1: to do me in if they wanted to. Okay, that
Speaker 1: was pretty good. That was a good story. I don't again.
Speaker 1: The last podcast I did had two stories in it
Speaker 1: about people who had feelings they sensed something around them,
Speaker 1: And I guess that's a few of people who commented
Speaker 1: in the comment section where you know those feelings are valid.
Speaker 1: When you feel those feelings, you need to get out
Speaker 1: of there. Maybe so, maybe not. I don't really trust
Speaker 1: my feelings. That's just me. I kind of trust what
Speaker 1: I can see and what I don't see. But back
Speaker 1: to this story, I mean, this man never saw anything
Speaker 1: when he was younger. He did see a monkey, something
Speaker 1: that looked like a monkey going over the bank. But
Speaker 1: you know what could that have been? Could it have
Speaker 1: been a dog. I'm just playing Devil's advocate here because
Speaker 1: I think this makes him real nervous when he goes out.
Speaker 1: And if you ever hear me talk about these things,
Speaker 1: I really want to encourage people not to be afraid
Speaker 1: to go in the woods. There's really nothing to be
Speaker 1: afraid of. And the reason I say that is of
Speaker 1: all the hundreds of bigfoot encounters that I've gotten, nobody
Speaker 1: ever gets hurt. Nobody gets hurt. We had one story
Speaker 1: where a guy rode in and he claims a bigfoot
Speaker 1: killed his grandfather. I think it's like the fifth or
Speaker 1: sixth video I ever did. But other than that nobody.
Speaker 1: They don't. Not only do they not get killed or taken,
Speaker 1: they don't get hurt. So and I know there's people
Speaker 1: out there who will go well, if you get taken,
Speaker 1: there's no one there to write the story. And you've
Speaker 1: got a point there. But I just don't think people
Speaker 1: should be afraid to go in the woods. I know
Speaker 1: that's going to make a lot of people mad, but
Speaker 1: it's my position and I respect your position if you
Speaker 1: think they shouldn't, and I want you to respect mine
Speaker 1: when I think they should go in the woods, because
Speaker 1: it's a wonderful place to be to go out in
Speaker 1: the wilderness, especially alone, and you don't have to go
Speaker 1: into these wildernesses that are fifty miles away from everything.
Speaker 1: Just walk out in the woods, find some place of
Speaker 1: state park or something, walk around trails, walk in the woods.
Speaker 1: It really is a good experience. So uh huh, okay,
Speaker 1: Well that's my pits for going in the woods. But
Speaker 1: be careful and be alert when you're there. There's snakes
Speaker 1: and depending on where you are, there are predators in
Speaker 1: the North American woods, not where I live, but they
Speaker 1: are there. Enjoy the woods. That's all I'm saying. So
Speaker 1: I'm in my sixties and I'm battling with the MS,
Speaker 1: and I've decided to share my experiences before it's too late.
Speaker 1: Perhaps my encounters will benefit someone, and if so, then
Speaker 1: my time writing this has not been wasted. I was
Speaker 1: raised on a farm and cattle operation in Utah in
Speaker 1: the sixties and seventies. Our land was adjacent to foothills
Speaker 1: that led up into a range of the Rocky Mountains,
Speaker 1: where I spent every possible hour on horseback or hiking
Speaker 1: or backpacking. I log several hundred nights camping out during
Speaker 1: my teens, in twenties and thirties, and even into my forties.
Speaker 1: It came with the territory of my outdoor life. Being
Speaker 1: out of doors every day from my childhood onward gave
Speaker 1: me a tremendous education about the natural world, and I
Speaker 1: was into familiar with every species of tree, all plants
Speaker 1: and wildflowers, and every type of bird that inhabited our region,
Speaker 1: and of course every mammal that lived in these valleys
Speaker 1: and mountains. I grew up fly fishing and hunting waterfowl,
Speaker 1: upland birds and varmints and big game, which took me
Speaker 1: into some of the most beautiful and remote country imaginable.
Speaker 1: I mentioned these things so you'll understand my familiarity with
Speaker 1: every living thing, from the western deserts to Utah Red
Speaker 1: Rock country and the alpine peaks of the highest mountains.
Speaker 1: In all that time that I spent outdoors, I never
Speaker 1: had any calls for fear, nor did I see or
Speaker 1: experience anything unusual. And then one August evening in two
Speaker 1: thousand and four, my fly fishing partner and I decided
Speaker 1: to stay out and watch the persed meteor shower at
Speaker 1: Strawberry Reservoir. We were excited to see the spectacle because
Speaker 1: of the clear skies and there would be no moonlight,
Speaker 1: no light pollution. We launched our float tubes into the
Speaker 1: water shortly before dark to enjoy some fly fishing and stargazing.
Speaker 1: Perhaps an hour into the meteor shower, we both suddenly
Speaker 1: noticed something massive walking along the shoreline on all fours.
Speaker 1: Its silhouette instantly reminded me of a polar bear, with
Speaker 1: its huge hindquarters taller than its front shoulders, and its
Speaker 1: head was small for its body size. That was Garganchewan.
Speaker 1: We were way too close to the shore for comfort
Speaker 1: and paddled into the safety of deeper water as quickly
Speaker 1: as possible, and we both experienced a sense of dread
Speaker 1: and terror. What was this giant thing? It was several
Speaker 1: times larger than the biggest black bear we had ever seen,
Speaker 1: and Utah doesn't have grizzly bears, which are not that large. Anyway,
Speaker 1: we observed the creature for a couple of minutes until
Speaker 1: it walked into the darkness and left the salone in
Speaker 1: the lake. Yeah, we were both terrified, knowing that eventually
Speaker 1: we'd have to get out of the water and run
Speaker 1: up the hill to the suv. We had no explanation
Speaker 1: for what we saw, and back then I'd never heard
Speaker 1: of bigfoot walking on all fours, and since that time,
Speaker 1: I've read numerous accounts of people seeing these things down
Speaker 1: on all fours. It's the only answer I can come
Speaker 1: up with to account for the massive size of the
Speaker 1: animal we witnessed. The experience we had on Strawberry that
Speaker 1: August night was a precursor for the year of two
Speaker 1: thousand and five, where everything changed and my life has
Speaker 1: never been the same since a doorway was open somehow
Speaker 1: to extraordinary strangeness that I never asked for, didn't seek
Speaker 1: and I can't seem to escape. As this is the
Speaker 1: one and only time I will record and recount these experiences,
Speaker 1: I will do my best to give you a detailed
Speaker 1: account of what happened in our lives during two thousand
Speaker 1: and five and subsequent to that time. It all began
Speaker 1: innocently enough on a late winter day when my wife
Speaker 1: and I decided to go for a drive to town
Speaker 1: to get a taco for lunch. On the return trip,
Speaker 1: we were two blocks south of main street in our
Speaker 1: small town when suddenly a dog of some kind with short,
Speaker 1: dark gray hair walked out into the street in front
Speaker 1: of us. It was on two legs, and I slammed
Speaker 1: on the brakes as we watched this thing cross the
Speaker 1: road in disbelief. It ran into someone's yard on two
Speaker 1: legs and went into the shrubbery out of sight. We
Speaker 1: were speechless, what the hell was that. We went home
Speaker 1: and I got online, and it didn't take long to
Speaker 1: find numerous images and videos of these same dogs walking
Speaker 1: upright all over the southwest of the United States and
Speaker 1: down into Mexico. Some people refer to them as chupacabras.
Speaker 1: All I know is that we were both very upset
Speaker 1: by what we witnessed. A few weeks later, it was
Speaker 1: time for another friend and I to go on our
Speaker 1: first jeep expedition of the season, and we headed south
Speaker 1: toward Utah's San Rafael Swell. It's some of the most
Speaker 1: remote country in the lower forty eighths, and on the
Speaker 1: way we passed through San Pete Valley, where the second
Speaker 1: strange encounter took place. At the north end of the valley,
Speaker 1: there is a small town called Melbourne, and just as
Speaker 1: we turned off the highway to head toward Melbourne, there
Speaker 1: was a huge black figure standing in low sagebrush and
Speaker 1: cheek grass at perhaps sixty yards away. I brought the
Speaker 1: jeep to a halt. We both stared at this thing
Speaker 1: with a very broad shoulders and legs like tree trunks.
Speaker 1: We weren't close enough to make out any facial features,
Speaker 1: but could see the glistening black hair that covered this
Speaker 1: being in a conical shaped head, a barrel chest, long
Speaker 1: arms and narrow waist, and massive legs. Time stopped as
Speaker 1: we watched this thing for a few seconds, and then
Speaker 1: it turned its body to the south, took two and
Speaker 1: a half steps, and then it vanished. There was nowhere
Speaker 1: for it to hide. It didn't dash to a tree
Speaker 1: for cover or drop to the ground. It was midway
Speaker 1: into its third step, with one leg raised in its
Speaker 1: foot up off the ground when it completely disappeared. It
Speaker 1: wasn't as though we watched it step into some unseen
Speaker 1: doorway where you'd observe the front part of the creature
Speaker 1: disappear followed by its backside. Not at all. It totally
Speaker 1: vanished in one instant of time in mid stride. You
Speaker 1: can imagine the fear that swallowed us, knowing that we
Speaker 1: had to drive down the road where this thing was
Speaker 1: headed when it vanished. At that time, I had never
Speaker 1: researched anything about bigfoot, though I was certainly familiar with
Speaker 1: the claims of those who had seen those things. I
Speaker 1: didn't know there was a rich collection of encounters with
Speaker 1: these things vanishing from sight. But we both saw it
Speaker 1: in one moment, and the next it was gone. After
Speaker 1: the event concluded, we compared notes and both felt like
Speaker 1: it was nine feet tall, and it weighed perhaps as
Speaker 1: much as six hundred pounds, maybe more. It didn't make
Speaker 1: any aggressive movements toward us, However, we both felt a
Speaker 1: deep foreboding sense of evil. We couldn't shake that horrible feeling,
Speaker 1: and we decided to postpone our jeep adventure for another time.
Speaker 1: The next in our series of life changing events occurred
Speaker 1: during the spring when we were doing some landscaping work
Speaker 1: in our yard. We lived a couple of miles outside
Speaker 1: of town and didn't have any close neighbors at the time.
Speaker 1: I hesitate to record this incredibly strange event because no
Speaker 1: one will believe me, and still it's the most disturbing
Speaker 1: of the events of two thousand and five, and to
Speaker 1: leave a full and honest account, I'll tell you this
Speaker 1: part of my story. It still turns me inside out
Speaker 1: when I think about it. My oldest son was seventeen
Speaker 1: at the time, and he was helping me with some
Speaker 1: landscaping work. We stopped for lunch, and while I was
Speaker 1: eating a sandwich in the house, I was looking into
Speaker 1: the backyard at our project and deciding what would work
Speaker 1: on next, when I saw a male American kestrel hawk
Speaker 1: flying toward a river birch tree in the back corner.
Speaker 1: But something was wrong with a bird, and I thought
Speaker 1: it was perhaps injured due to its erratic flight. Rather
Speaker 1: than landing in the tree. The small and colorful hawk
Speaker 1: landed on the ground where we had been planting some
Speaker 1: barberry bushes, and it started moving its wings in a
Speaker 1: strain's unnatural way. And the next thing I knew, this
Speaker 1: bird pushed its wings up and away from its body
Speaker 1: in a manner that would be impossible for any bird
Speaker 1: to do, and then I was looking at something other
Speaker 1: than the hawk. More than sixteen years have passed since
Speaker 1: this event occurred, and I no longer remember the exact
Speaker 1: order of what I witnessed. But over the next several
Speaker 1: minutes I observed this thing changed shapes into a rabbit
Speaker 1: with badly deformed ears, a squirrel that was incorrectly formed,
Speaker 1: then a weasel, a marmot, a badger, each of which
Speaker 1: was anatomic incorrect. At the same time as I witnessed
Speaker 1: this event, I was suddenly sick to my stomach and
Speaker 1: filled with nausea and a violent headache. The badger jumped
Speaker 1: down from the retaining wall and went over to a
Speaker 1: hole in the field. My son came up stairs at
Speaker 1: that point, and I asked him to keep watching the
Speaker 1: hole while I went over there. I went through the
Speaker 1: garbage and I picked up a stout club I carried
Speaker 1: with me, and when I got to the hole, nothing
Speaker 1: was there, and I retreated to the couch, where I
Speaker 1: rested for a few hours to recover. Later research uncovered
Speaker 1: a material known as black goo or programmable matter that
Speaker 1: might account for what I saw. Perhaps it was something
Speaker 1: from the military or the deep state. I don't know.
Speaker 1: Debilitating nausea continued for the next couple of weeks anytime
Speaker 1: I went outside near where I had seen that thing.
Speaker 1: Perhaps it was some kind of radioactivity. The next two
Speaker 1: events occurred on the same day. I was fly fishing
Speaker 1: with my partner at a different still water known as
Speaker 1: Schofield Reservoir. It was a gorgeous late spring day and
Speaker 1: the fishing was good. The sky was a stunning azure blue,
Speaker 1: with white, fluffy clouds hanging low in the sky. At
Speaker 1: one point I looked almost straight above me and gasped
Speaker 1: at seeing a very large silver sphere in the sky
Speaker 1: that appeared to be covered in radio towers. It was
Speaker 1: not very high above me, as it was hovering between
Speaker 1: two of the low hanging clouds, and as soon as
Speaker 1: I saw it, the thing rapidly ascended and was gone
Speaker 1: from sight in mere moments. And then on my way home,
Speaker 1: As we left the mountains and reached Highway six, we
Speaker 1: both saw a glow bowing orange ORB coming toward us
Speaker 1: in the opposite lane of traffic. My friend commented that
Speaker 1: it was about the size of a basketball. We watched
Speaker 1: it pass us and turned to watch it go behind us,
Speaker 1: but it disappeared. Later that summer, my friend would go
Speaker 1: fishing at Indian Creek Bay on Strawberry Reservoir, where he
Speaker 1: saw two orbs the same evening. Our lives were becoming
Speaker 1: very weird. What in the world was happening to us? Well,
Speaker 1: this story is becoming so long, so I'll skip the
Speaker 1: next orb story. It's not that critical. We finally reached
Speaker 1: July fourth, after all the activities of the day, my
Speaker 1: wife and I were sitting on the back patio watching
Speaker 1: fireworks in the town's east of where we lived. We
Speaker 1: had an unobstructed view for many miles in every direction,
Speaker 1: and after the fireworks ceased, we sat there enjoying the
Speaker 1: cool of the evening until almost midnight, when she grabbed
Speaker 1: my arm and said, what is that pointing up at
Speaker 1: the sky about halfway between our home and the mountains
Speaker 1: to the east. Neither of us spoke for a few
Speaker 1: minutes as we observed a huge, triangular shaped craft moved
Speaker 1: silently across the sky. It had running lights along the
Speaker 1: top and bottom edge of the side we could see,
Speaker 1: and once it passed, we could see the back end,
Speaker 1: which also had running lights. It continued moving north until
Speaker 1: we lost sight of it. We were both two small
Speaker 1: town kids that couldn't understand why these inexplicable things were
Speaker 1: happening to us. But that was not the last unidentifiable
Speaker 1: thing we saw flying in the skies that year, but
Speaker 1: it was the most remarkable one we saw. Sometime in
Speaker 1: August of two thousand and five, my fishing partner called
Speaker 1: me late one evening and said to go outside and
Speaker 1: look above the prominent mountain our valley. Well. I did so,
Speaker 1: and to my surprise, there was a new, very bright
Speaker 1: star in the sky we had never seen before, and
Speaker 1: it was flashing colors at an immense rate of change.
Speaker 1: My friend had the latest and most powerful camera with
Speaker 1: a fantastic zoom lens, and he filmed the star, which
Speaker 1: not only flashed colors we couldn't name, but changed shapes
Speaker 1: each time it flashed. We watched it in slow motion,
Speaker 1: and we were astonished by the revelation of what his
Speaker 1: camera brought into focus, and over the years since two
Speaker 1: thousand and five, we've witnessed many such anomalies. By late
Speaker 1: September of that year, the heat of the summer was
Speaker 1: behind us and it was time to attempt the jeep
Speaker 1: expedition once again. We made plans to explore a section
Speaker 1: of the San Rafael Swell that we had never visited.
Speaker 1: On our drive to the Swell, we once again passed
Speaker 1: through through San Pete Valley, and of course discussed the
Speaker 1: bigfoot siding from the spring. That was not my friend's
Speaker 1: first cryptid encounter, as I learned. After we passed the
Speaker 1: location of the siding, we both gave an audible sigh
Speaker 1: of relief and proceeded on our way. Part Way through
Speaker 1: the valley, we decided to explore a range of hills
Speaker 1: we'd never visited before, and we pulled onto a gravel
Speaker 1: road that led up into the hills. I stopped the
Speaker 1: jeep on a bridge over a small irrigation canal as
Speaker 1: we looked ahead, trying to decide which way we wanted
Speaker 1: to go. It was eleven am and that's when I
Speaker 1: noticed movement below me to the left. In my peripheral.
Speaker 1: When I looked directly at whatever had moved, I was
Speaker 1: instantly paralyzed with fear and incapable of movement or of speaking.
Speaker 1: Time absolutely stopped, and I couldn't even breathe. There below me,
Speaker 1: kneeling in the canal, was a monster covered in grizzled hair,
Speaker 1: a mixture of gray and light brown, with golden yellow
Speaker 1: colored eyes that were far apart, and a wide mouth
Speaker 1: and narrow lips that were closed tightly together. I could
Speaker 1: not look away, and I couldn't move, as time stood
Speaker 1: still and I had a long look at this thing.
Speaker 1: The hair on its forehead began at the brow ridge
Speaker 1: and grew upward on its forehead until it reached the
Speaker 1: top of the head that was cone shaped. The hair
Speaker 1: was a uniform one inch in length, and the hair
Speaker 1: on its face gave it a perfect, full beard that
Speaker 1: grew up close to its eyes, leaving only a small
Speaker 1: patch of charcoal gray skin around the eyes. It never blinked.
Speaker 1: The nose was whiter and flatter than a human nose,
Speaker 1: and hair grew across part of its nose. The space
Speaker 1: between the bottom of its nose and its upper lip
Speaker 1: was much wider than with humans. At least twice as wide,
Speaker 1: and even maybe more. The shoulders on this beast were
Speaker 1: four feet wide and massive with muscle. The hair was
Speaker 1: longer on its shoulders, maybe three or four inches long.
Speaker 1: There wasn't much neck to speak of, and it looked
Speaker 1: like its head rested on its shoulders. The head was
Speaker 1: too small to match the massive shoulders, and its chest
Speaker 1: was full and rounded and covered in hair a couple
Speaker 1: of inches long. The shoulder muscles and biceps were incredibly huge.
Speaker 1: Because of its position in the canal, I couldn't see
Speaker 1: its elbows, lower arms, or hands. I also couldn't see
Speaker 1: below its chest. I never saw the legs at all.
Speaker 1: I have assumed all these years that as I was
Speaker 1: parked on the bridge and the motor was running, it
Speaker 1: must have disturbed the creature that may have been sleeping
Speaker 1: or resting under the bridge, and it came out to
Speaker 1: investigate the source of the noise. But I'm just guessing. After
Speaker 1: taking a long look at this thing, I finally regained
Speaker 1: my composure enough to put the jeep in reverse and
Speaker 1: take my foot off the clutch and speed down out
Speaker 1: of there. My friend said later he thought I was
Speaker 1: going to roll the jeep. He didn't know what I
Speaker 1: had seen, but he did see me staring out of
Speaker 1: the window. I let out a scream as we back
Speaker 1: down the steep road until we reached the pavement and
Speaker 1: drove away as fast as the jeep would go. A
Speaker 1: couple of miles down the road, I pulled over and
Speaker 1: I changed places with my friend, as I was too
Speaker 1: impacted by the encounter to drive safely. This time, we
Speaker 1: did go to the Swell, but the trip was a
Speaker 1: bus for me due to what I had witnessed. What
Speaker 1: else did two thousand and five have in store? And
Speaker 1: as it turned out, that was not the final strange
Speaker 1: experience of the year. But I won't recite another u
Speaker 1: UO experience. My poor wife was seeing them in the
Speaker 1: mountains by our home and it shook her to her core.
Speaker 1: I want to share some observations. Prior to these experiences,
Speaker 1: I had never seen anything unusual or out of place
Speaker 1: in my outdoor life. Suddenly I knew the truth about
Speaker 1: things that most people will never know. Regarding the two
Speaker 1: clearly identifiable bigfoot creatures, I've already said that the first
Speaker 1: black creature we saw felt intensely evil, but I did
Speaker 1: not have the same feeling about the second grizzled one.
Speaker 1: Its face was nine feet from my face, but it
Speaker 1: never grimaced it me or displayed any threatening behavior. It
Speaker 1: could have easily opened its mouth to growl at us
Speaker 1: and show us its teeth, but its mouth remained closed. Yes,
Speaker 1: I was terrified and petrified with fear from simply seeing
Speaker 1: this monster up close, but I didn't feel any fear
Speaker 1: being projected from this creature as many people report. If anything,
Speaker 1: it seemed to purposefully not do anything to terrorize us whatsoever.
Speaker 1: But that being said, I've never been able to bring
Speaker 1: myself to visit that bridge again or camp out since
Speaker 1: two thousand and five. I still go fly fishing as
Speaker 1: often as health permits, but I never go unarmed if
Speaker 1: we're off the beaten path. In October of twenty and nineteen,
Speaker 1: fourteen years after the bridge siding, I had another bigfoot
Speaker 1: encounter at a small lake in northern Utah called Mill Hollow,
Speaker 1: where I was fishing by myself. No one else was
Speaker 1: at the lake that day. I didn't have a visual
Speaker 1: this time, but a mature white fur was pushed over
Speaker 1: nearby and the creatures made a sound I can only
Speaker 1: describe as a symph the orchestra, with all the strings
Speaker 1: and wind and brass instruments striking the same note together,
Speaker 1: accompanied by multiple car horns. The intensely loud sound lasted
Speaker 1: for a single quarter note. They had my attention, and
Speaker 1: I assumed that rather than scream at me, they made
Speaker 1: this less threatening sound so as not to alarm the
Speaker 1: numerous bull elk that were bugling in the mountains around me.
Speaker 1: And I suspected that this was a hunting party and
Speaker 1: they wanted me gone. I gathered my fly riots and
Speaker 1: other gear, and I left the area. I've read other
Speaker 1: accounts of these things making all sorts of sounds, but
Speaker 1: I've never heard anyone report them sounding like a symphony orchestra.
Speaker 1: And last in February of this year, twenty twenty one,
Speaker 1: one night, at twelve thirty am, something slapped the side
Speaker 1: of our home so hard that it fell like the
Speaker 1: house would come off its foundation. The slat was on
Speaker 1: the second floor, on the other side of the wall
Speaker 1: from my head. It reverberated through the house, and my
Speaker 1: youngest son in the basement called me, wondering what had
Speaker 1: just happened. I instantly knew what had happened. One of
Speaker 1: the bigfoot creatures that I had encountered, found where I
Speaker 1: was living, and must have climbed up to the rock
Speaker 1: chimney and let me know that they knew where I
Speaker 1: was at. So many people have recorded such events of
Speaker 1: being harassed by these creatures that I wasn't surprised, but
Speaker 1: I took measures to hopefully keep it from happening again.
Speaker 1: And I hate the feeling of being a marked man. Well,
Speaker 1: cam that's my story. You're welcome to share it if
Speaker 1: you desire. I could share other recent cryptid encounters, but
Speaker 1: I'm still trying to make peace with the idea of
Speaker 1: the massive upright canine variety. This world is not what
Speaker 1: I thought it was growing up on the farm or
Speaker 1: during all the years of hunting, fishing, and camping. No,
Speaker 1: not at all. We share this world with things that
Speaker 1: none of us are prepared for in our pathetic educational system.
Speaker 1: For some reason, the door to all these things opened
Speaker 1: wide for me in two thousand and five, and it's
Speaker 1: never closed since. If I was to recount all of
Speaker 1: our strange encounters, it would require another email of this
Speaker 1: length or longer. Thankfully, the truth about many of these
Speaker 1: topics are coming to light and thanks for allowing me
Speaker 1: to get this off my chest. Dixie cryptied his fantastic
Speaker 1: thank you, Cam, You're the best, with my kindest regards,
Speaker 1: and then he signs off. Well, you know, I'm not
Speaker 1: commenting much on the end of these stories, but I
Speaker 1: just wanted to tell the man how much I appreciate
Speaker 1: him sending this story. This is actually the second version
Speaker 1: of it. He had done some editing and found some typos.
Speaker 1: You guys don't have to do that. If it's a
Speaker 1: little errors you find, don't obsess over these stories. Just
Speaker 1: send them on. We take a look at them, we
Speaker 1: read them through before we narrate them. But I just
Speaker 1: thought this was a fantastic story, and I wanted to
Speaker 1: let him know that I know you're battling MS. You're
Speaker 1: in your sixties, and your story is out there, and
Speaker 1: your time was not wasted. It's very enlightening and entertaining.
Speaker 1: So I appreciate the writer. Thank you.