Speaker 1: I was born and raised in what used to be
Speaker 1: rural Madison County and North Alabama. It was a kind
Speaker 1: of place where everyone knew everyone. That meant kids always
Speaker 1: had to be good, because misbehavior would always make it
Speaker 1: back to their parents. In nineteen seventy four, when I
Speaker 1: was eight, we had some of the worst tornadoes this
Speaker 1: area has ever seen. My grandfather, who lived in Mississippi,
Speaker 1: died during those from a heart attack. Afterwards, there were
Speaker 1: so many trees down it was hard to imagine it
Speaker 1: was the same place. There was a family that lived
Speaker 1: about a half a mile away from ours who had
Speaker 1: girls close to my age. We would meet in the
Speaker 1: woods and play. We made up names for different stands
Speaker 1: of trees so we always knew where to meet. The
Speaker 1: big stand that was the farthest from any of our
Speaker 1: houses was called Big Pines. Little Pines was closer to
Speaker 1: their house. Tiny Pines was right behind my house. Our
Speaker 1: imagination in naming them knew no bounds. It's pretty original. Oh,
Speaker 1: it just reminded me of a story about my son.
Speaker 1: But I'll tell you all that another time. She writes.
Speaker 1: The summer after the tornadoes changed the look of the
Speaker 1: woods a lot, especially the Big Pines area. There was
Speaker 1: one place where three trees had fallen together that we
Speaker 1: decided to make our clubhouse. The trees had fallen in
Speaker 1: sort of a triangle, with one on top and two
Speaker 1: on the bottom. Once we got inside and started cutting
Speaker 1: out the inner branches to give us room, it was perfect.
Speaker 1: We started bringing in some stuff so that it was
Speaker 1: more homey and to make it our clubhouse. It was
Speaker 1: still a time when kids were giving free rein of
Speaker 1: their days, and I could tell my parents that I
Speaker 1: was going to meet Donna in Big Pines and they'd answer, okay,
Speaker 1: that was enough for them. There was no checking in,
Speaker 1: no specific time to be home, and no stranger danger.
Speaker 1: Back then, I wish my daughter could have experienced that
Speaker 1: easy freedom that's gone forever now. On this particular day,
Speaker 1: Donna and I were going to meet at the clubhouse
Speaker 1: in Big Pines. I don't remember what time it was,
Speaker 1: but I got there before she did. I was playing
Speaker 1: around inside the clubhouse when I heard something. I figured
Speaker 1: it was Donna coming, so I didn't think much about it.
Speaker 1: After a few minutes, Donna didn't show up. Well, I
Speaker 1: got curious, so I peeked out through the branches in
Speaker 1: the clubhouse, and I looked around. At first, I didn't
Speaker 1: see anything. Donna's older brother was fond of harassing us,
Speaker 1: and if it was him, I didn't want him to
Speaker 1: know that I was there. That guy gave me the
Speaker 1: creeps back to playing inside the clubhouse, but I kept
Speaker 1: hearing small sounds, so I would periodically look out in
Speaker 1: their direction. And I still didn't see anything, but I
Speaker 1: noticed that all the normal sounds coming to the woods
Speaker 1: were gone. It was eerily quiet. Finally, I caught a
Speaker 1: glimpse of something that was large, black and tan and
Speaker 1: about the same size as my German shepherd's Sindbad. Even
Speaker 1: though he never followed me to Big Pines, I assume
Speaker 1: it was him. I didn't call out to him. Instead,
Speaker 1: I watched to see what he would do, or if
Speaker 1: he would find me hidden in our little clubhouse. A
Speaker 1: few minutes passed, I'm not sure how many. I was
Speaker 1: only eight at the time. It didn't move much, so
Speaker 1: I didn't get a good look at it. I was
Speaker 1: considering just calling him to me so he could play
Speaker 1: in the clubhouse with me, when I suddenly felt very
Speaker 1: glad that I didn't. I was looking directly at it
Speaker 1: when with no warning, it jumped onto the trunk of
Speaker 1: a pine tree and climbed straight up. My dog could
Speaker 1: do a lot of things, but he could not climb
Speaker 1: a tree. Now froze and for a minute I just
Speaker 1: sat there, and whatever it was, I never saw or
Speaker 1: heard it climb back down. I didn't move for two hours.
Speaker 1: Donna never came. I don't remember why. At that point,
Speaker 1: I'm not sure I would have wanted her to. I
Speaker 1: had heard of a mountain lion being caught in the
Speaker 1: area over thirty years earlier, but there had been no
Speaker 1: sign of one since. I've often wondered what it was
Speaker 1: that I saw that day, but I'm convinced it was
Speaker 1: not a mountain lion. I never went back to Big
Speaker 1: Pines alone again. I still live within a mile of
Speaker 1: that area. I lived way back off the road at
Speaker 1: the edge of the woods and mountains, but I've never
Speaker 1: seen anything that terrified me a lot that we do
Speaker 1: have black bears and bobcats here, but it was neither
Speaker 1: of those. I can still shut my eyes and see
Speaker 1: it in my mind, and even as an adult, I
Speaker 1: have no answers. Oh Beca, Becca Beca. What a great story,
Speaker 1: And I'm sure it still haunts you today. And I
Speaker 1: absolutely understand what you said there at the end. It's
Speaker 1: like these images are cast in your mind forever. It's
Speaker 1: like you never you never forget exactly. It's never hazy,
Speaker 1: it's never far off in your memory. Whenever that memory
Speaker 1: comes back, it is exactly the same and as exactly
Speaker 1: as you saw it the day you saw it. I
Speaker 1: have a few of those. They don't have to do
Speaker 1: with monsters. They may have to do with my father,
Speaker 1: or my mother, or you know, some event in my life.
Speaker 1: I know exactly what you mean. And to see something
Speaker 1: like that as an eight year little, eight year old
Speaker 1: little girl, I'm sure that's something that scared you to death.
Speaker 1: But I'll make one suggestion. And I don't know that
Speaker 1: you know. I'm not always I never try to debunk
Speaker 1: these stories. I just read them and we go on.
Speaker 1: I remember when I was a kid, there weren't there
Speaker 1: were hardly any any any turkeys at all in the woods,
Speaker 1: and I saw this thing run up a tree, or
Speaker 1: it looked like it ran up a tree. It was
Speaker 1: a big big to me, it was big, a big,
Speaker 1: dark object, and it made these weird noises when it
Speaker 1: flew up in the tree, and it was right in
Speaker 1: the evening. Like you, I remember that vision vividly, and
Speaker 1: I can run it through my mind. And the more
Speaker 1: I think about what I saw after years of hunting turkeys,
Speaker 1: I'm pretty sure that's what I saw. But I didn't
Speaker 1: even know turkeys were in the woods when I was
Speaker 1: a kid. I thought turkeys were something that people raised
Speaker 1: on a farm. I'm not even sure I knew what
Speaker 1: a turkey. A turkey to me was a big, frozen,
Speaker 1: giant heavy ball that you pulled out of the freezer
Speaker 1: at the grocery store. Then I figured out what they
Speaker 1: were and we started hunting them. By the way, a
Speaker 1: wild turkey doesn't look like that when it's when it's
Speaker 1: cleaned out. They're they're quite a bit smaller, but they're
Speaker 1: but the meat is delicious. It is so good that
Speaker 1: when you breast them out, they're just oh man, it's
Speaker 1: some of the it's like the nectar of meat. To me.
Speaker 1: That and venison just the best meat in the world.
Speaker 1: It's clean and it's it. They don't they're not fed.
Speaker 1: All right, I'm going off on a tangent again. I
Speaker 1: don't mean to do that, but so maybe it was
Speaker 1: a turkey, I'm not saying it was, but think about that.
Speaker 1: You have the image in your mind, Maybe get on
Speaker 1: YouTube and look at things climbing trees and kind of
Speaker 1: zero in on a turkey and see if that's not
Speaker 1: what you saw. But if that's not what you saw
Speaker 1: and it was bigger and more menacing, then it could
Speaker 1: have been a bigfoot, could have been a dog man
Speaker 1: or some other creature that wanders those woods. I don't know,
Speaker 1: but I love the story, Becca, and I really appreciate
Speaker 1: you sending it. Nioma liked it too. She was telling
Speaker 1: me that it's one of those stories it just kind
Speaker 1: of makes her skin crawl because I don't know, especially
Speaker 1: as it happens with little kids and stuff. It's you know,
Speaker 1: it's kind of speaky. But Becca, thank you. I'll lave
Speaker 1: quit yack and hear.
Speaker 2: My first encounter with what I believe was a bigfoot
Speaker 2: happened in nineteen eighty five or eighty six, when I
Speaker 2: was about three or four years old. My parents and
Speaker 2: I were living with my dad's mom on a little
Speaker 2: dirt road in western Georgia at the time, less than
Speaker 2: a quarter of a mile from my grandmother's house. Was
Speaker 2: a small graveyard. It seemed like people were always there
Speaker 2: fixing headstones. I would watch as they reset stones that
Speaker 2: had been pushed over and repair those that had been
Speaker 2: broken in the process. Even in my late teens, I
Speaker 2: remember writing past and seeing the people working on the headstones,
Speaker 2: some for the third or fourth time. One evening, my
Speaker 2: dad decided to walk to his mom's brother's house about
Speaker 2: a mile down the road. I was a daddy's boy,
Speaker 2: so I went with him. There was a full, bright
Speaker 2: moon that night that hung in the sky like a
Speaker 2: giant lantern. It was so big I felt like I
Speaker 2: could reach out and touch it. Dad was walking in
Speaker 2: front of me, maybe ten or twelve feet. As I
Speaker 2: passed the lock gate to the cemetery. I jumped when
Speaker 2: I heard what sounded like a wet rug being dropped
Speaker 2: onto a concrete floor, followed by a heavy chuffing sound
Speaker 2: like a bull when it coughs. I looked at my dad,
Speaker 2: unsure if he'd heard it, but then he turned a
Speaker 2: little to the right without quite turning, offered me his
Speaker 2: hand without quite lifting it from his side, and said,
Speaker 2: come on, son, and a soft voice that was not
Speaker 2: quite ominous from the house to the graveyard. The little
Speaker 2: dirt road as straight. There are no curves or hills
Speaker 2: to obscure the view from the house where we stood.
Speaker 2: Just before I moved to take my dad's hand, I
Speaker 2: glanced over my shoulder, but I couldn't see our house
Speaker 2: or the street light in our yard. I couldn't see
Speaker 2: any of the neighbor's street lights either. I looked back
Speaker 2: several times, but I didn't see anything until maybe the
Speaker 2: fourth time I saw someone behind us. They were about
Speaker 2: thirty or forty feet back. Who's that following us, I
Speaker 2: asked my dad. Nobody, he answered in that same quiet voice. Then,
Speaker 2: in an even softer voice laden with urgency, he added,
Speaker 2: come on. I started walking faster to keep up with
Speaker 2: my dad, but now I was suddenly aware of the
Speaker 2: sounds of footsteps. They were getting harder, louder, closer, faster
Speaker 2: with each step I took. I turned again to look
Speaker 2: back over my shoulder. The distant lights outlined someone big
Speaker 2: in what I took to be a wooly sweater. Before
Speaker 2: I could fully turn back to my dad, I felt
Speaker 2: him lifting me off the ground and swinging me onto
Speaker 2: his shoulders. He began to run with me. I tried
Speaker 2: to look back at the wooly sweater, but it was
Speaker 2: all I could do to hang onto my dad's head
Speaker 2: as he ran as fast as he could. Like I said,
Speaker 2: I was only about three or four then. I wasn't
Speaker 2: in school yet. I don't remember much beyond that. Clearly
Speaker 2: we escaped our stalker, but my memory fails me beyond
Speaker 2: my dad running with me on his shoulders. Years later,
Speaker 2: when I was in my early teens, I found what
Speaker 2: I thought and still believed to be a den in
Speaker 2: the side of a creek bank. The whole head of
Speaker 2: a cow was sticking out of the hole, half submerged
Speaker 2: in water. As I stood there looking at it, something
Speaker 2: snatched it from the other side of that hole and
Speaker 2: pulled it out of sight. I didn't wait around to
Speaker 2: see what had the ability to do that. I'm thirty
Speaker 2: eight now, and I still have trouble sleeping. Sleeping meanstreaming about,
Speaker 2: wooly sweaters chasing me, and cowheads disappearing into holes and
Speaker 2: creek banks, and means remembering other things as well. I
Speaker 2: once spoke on the phone with my dead aunt. I've
Speaker 2: had two other bigfoot encounters too. I'd rather deal with
Speaker 2: bigfoot than talk to dead people, but both terrify me.
Speaker 2: The things I've told you here are the God's honest truth.
Speaker 2: I'll be writing to you about the other two encounters
Speaker 2: I have to tell someone. Maybe once I tell them
Speaker 2: and get them out of my system, I'll be able
Speaker 2: to sleep.
Speaker 1: Well.
Speaker 2: I thought that was a fantastic story. Can you imagine
Speaker 2: being only three or four years old and your father's
Speaker 2: so frightened he sweeps you up on his shoulders and
Speaker 2: starts to run, and you don't even know what you're
Speaker 2: running from except for something in a big wooly sweater.
Speaker 2: It must have been terrifying. And then later when he
Speaker 2: saw the cow's head and the whole being just pulled in,
Speaker 2: Oh my gosh, no wonder you don't sleep, Wara. I
Speaker 2: wouldn't sleep either. Thank you for sending in the story,
Speaker 2: and thank you Cam for letting me read it.
Speaker 1: When I was a young man growing up in central
Speaker 1: New York, my uncle used to tell the family a
Speaker 1: story of what he called the swamp monsters. This was
Speaker 1: long before you could hear any talk about Bigfoot. He
Speaker 1: would tell a story whenever the cousins would gather. He
Speaker 1: and my aunt were working on a farm back in
Speaker 1: the nineteen thirties. The family farm had big, open fields
Speaker 1: surrounded by rolling forested hills, and he would tell the
Speaker 1: story of two huge creatures covered with dark black hair
Speaker 1: that came from the forest and walked in front of
Speaker 1: he and my aunt across the farm fields. He estimated
Speaker 1: the distance at seventy five yards. When they reached every fence,
Speaker 1: they simply stepped over them, as if they were not there.
Speaker 1: I never made the connection with Bigfoot at the time.
Speaker 1: When I was eight, my dad was reading the newspaper
Speaker 1: and he showed me an article of giant Bigfoot prints
Speaker 1: found in California. The tracks were the first that I
Speaker 1: had heard of Bigfoot. I can remember cutting out the
Speaker 1: article and running down the street to find my friends
Speaker 1: and show them the story. I remember us discussing that
Speaker 1: it was way out in California and that it would
Speaker 1: never come to New York. Well, time went on, and
Speaker 1: when I was fifteen, my friend and I wanted to
Speaker 1: go to a party that was twenty miles from our house.
Speaker 1: The only way that we could get there would be
Speaker 1: to sneak our whole. Doca Road towed one hundred motorcycle
Speaker 1: out of the barn. We would take the back roads
Speaker 1: and ride double since we didn't have driver's licenses and
Speaker 1: the motorcycle was also not licensed. We were cutting through
Speaker 1: a state forest about four miles from the nearest town,
Speaker 1: and as we started up a large hill, the motorcycle
Speaker 1: stalled out and was out of gas. We flipped the
Speaker 1: reserve tank lever and attempted to start the bike, and
Speaker 1: we could not get it to fire up. We began
Speaker 1: pushing the bike up the hill. It was really and
Speaker 1: very quiet, and as we pushed the motorcycle, we began
Speaker 1: to hear something walking in the woods paralleling us. It
Speaker 1: was loud and it sounded by a peetle. Whenever we stopped,
Speaker 1: it would stop, and we could hear sticks breaking and
Speaker 1: clearly something walking like a man. We both said, what
Speaker 1: the hell is that? It started to move directly at us,
Speaker 1: this time not stopping when we did. I started yelling
Speaker 1: at my buddy to get that motorcycle started, and just
Speaker 1: as we thought the creature was about to reach us,
Speaker 1: the bike started and off we went. Every hair on
Speaker 1: our body stood on end. We had no clue why
Speaker 1: we were so afraid, and we did not talk of
Speaker 1: this again. Time went on and I began to take
Speaker 1: remote fishing trips to Quebec, and on these trips I
Speaker 1: would always find topographical maps and try to reach an
Speaker 1: even more remote lake for fishing, always trying to get
Speaker 1: to where no one else had fished before. While fishing
Speaker 1: a lake about one hundred miles from Oh God, here's
Speaker 1: a here's a word, I'm gonna blow senataire s e
Speaker 1: n n e t e r r e Quebec sentiary
Speaker 1: sentataire senatire. That's all I can do help meet Canadians.
Speaker 1: I found a lake that would take work to get to.
Speaker 1: We headed down a small river that connected the two lakes,
Speaker 1: and the path was blocked by many beaver dams. We
Speaker 1: would break a small hole in each dam and then
Speaker 1: turn and make a run at it and jump the dam.
Speaker 1: It was a great adventure and fill with excitement of
Speaker 1: virgin waters full of fish. I would have a chance
Speaker 1: to pursue a trophy northern and incredible walleye fishing. When
Speaker 1: we finally reached the lake, the fishing was awesome walleye northerns.
Speaker 1: Cast after cast, there was a silence that I couldn't explain,
Speaker 1: though everything was deathly quiet. Also, there was a feeling
Speaker 1: of fear that I couldn't explain. I had reached one
Speaker 1: of the fishing spots that I had dreamed about, and
Speaker 1: all I wanted to do was leave. I didn't say
Speaker 1: anything about this to my fishing partner, and I convinced
Speaker 1: him to head back. A year later, I returned to
Speaker 1: the same lake, and one evening we were jigging for
Speaker 1: walleye close to the mouth of the river. Something came
Speaker 1: over me and filled me with a sense of fear.
Speaker 1: All of a sudden, we heard a great roar or
Speaker 1: a scream louder than I can explain. I would estimated
Speaker 1: it came from three hundred yards away, and it shook
Speaker 1: my insides and every hair on my body stood on end.
Speaker 1: My fishing partner said the same thing, it was, what
Speaker 1: the hell moment? We pulled up the anchor and we
Speaker 1: headed back to camp, and one of our guides liked
Speaker 1: to sleep in a tent, and after we informed him
Speaker 1: of what had happened, he moved inside and got out
Speaker 1: of that tent. I returned another year later to the
Speaker 1: same lil and was determined to face my fear and
Speaker 1: head up the river and fish that distant lake. And
Speaker 1: when I looked at the topographical maps. I noticed a lake.
Speaker 1: Beyond the lake that had previously filled me with fear,
Speaker 1: there was a river that connected the two, and I
Speaker 1: decided that I would push it a step further and
Speaker 1: travel to that lake. We started before sunrising headed down
Speaker 1: that river. Just as the sun came up again. We
Speaker 1: broke beaver dams and turned and made runs and jumped
Speaker 1: the boat over each one. We crossed five or six
Speaker 1: dams in this manner. We reached the lake and followed
Speaker 1: them up to the small river or stream and started
Speaker 1: pushing forward. We finally hit a shallow spot where the
Speaker 1: boat was dragging on the bottom and I would need
Speaker 1: to get out and pull it. My partner would stay
Speaker 1: in the boat with the motor tipped up. I knew
Speaker 1: why I was there to face my fear. As I
Speaker 1: pulled the boat forward, I noticed a set of tracks
Speaker 1: ahead in the water, mud lifted from the tracks. These
Speaker 1: tracks were fresh, maybe a few minutes old. I reluctantly
Speaker 1: pulled the boat forward to inspect the tracks, holding my
Speaker 1: breath filled with fear. I reached the tracks and breathed
Speaker 1: a sigh of relief, and I yelled back to my
Speaker 1: fishing partner that it was only a bear. Imagine that
Speaker 1: it was just a bear. I should still have been afraid,
Speaker 1: but I was relieved. We finally got to the second
Speaker 1: lake to find very good fishing. We turned back and
Speaker 1: spent the remainder of the day fishing that lake that
Speaker 1: originally filled me with fear. The fishing was great. I
Speaker 1: had no feelings of fear, just caught a bunch of fish.
Speaker 1: I made four more trips to these lakes and never
Speaker 1: had another feeling of fear or dead silence. I was
Speaker 1: talking to my cousin's husband, and he proceeded to tell
Speaker 1: me a story that spun out of control and caused
Speaker 1: him to hurt his father in law. My uncle that
Speaker 1: had seen the swamp monsters today, he recognized them for
Speaker 1: what they were. They were bigfoots or sasquatches. My cousin's
Speaker 1: husband made a set of bigfoot prints and strapped them
Speaker 1: on to his feet and ran through the woods in
Speaker 1: the snow to my uncle's property. My uncle found the
Speaker 1: prince and ran inside and began to call all the neighbors.
Speaker 1: He told them to keep their children and pets inside
Speaker 1: because he had found bigfoot prints and there was one
Speaker 1: in the area. After he called all the neighbors, he
Speaker 1: called my cousin and told her what he had found.
Speaker 1: He explained that he had called all the neighbors and
Speaker 1: warned them. My cousin's husband heard the news and didn't
Speaker 1: know what to do. He said. My uncle never came
Speaker 1: over to their house for an unannounced visit. My cousin's
Speaker 1: husband was in the garage and still had the bigfoot
Speaker 1: tracks hanging on the wall. My uncle walked in and
Speaker 1: looked at the wooden feet with boots attached hanging on
Speaker 1: the wall, and looked at his son in law and
Speaker 1: didn't say a word. He simply turned around and walked
Speaker 1: away with a sad, broken lad on his face. Since
Speaker 1: my experiences, I have known there is something that I
Speaker 1: don't understand that is out there. In my younger days,
Speaker 1: I would travel deep into the woods to deer hunt,
Speaker 1: and I would stay well after dark. Sometimes I would
Speaker 1: make a kill at sunset and track and retrieve my
Speaker 1: kills after dark, with no fear, no feeling of uneasiness.
Speaker 1: But now I don't feel that way. I'm always uneasy
Speaker 1: after dark. I'm always looking over my shoulder if I
Speaker 1: make a kill at the end of the day. It
Speaker 1: is not pleasant to track and retrieve the kill after dark.
Speaker 1: I'm always looking over my shoulder, and, come to think
Speaker 1: of it, I rarely hunt alone. One day, I was
Speaker 1: hunting on my brother in law's property and I found
Speaker 1: some stones up in the woods stacked in a formation.
Speaker 1: I had heard stories of bigfoot and rock formations. I
Speaker 1: decided I would change the formation and spread them out.
Speaker 1: And I didn't think much of it, and I moved
Speaker 1: on hunted the property again and I walked by that
Speaker 1: spot and the rocks were stacked again. I thought, Wow,
Speaker 1: that's strange. Who would return the rocks to that formation?
Speaker 1: And I began to think if this could be a Sosquatch.
Speaker 1: I changed the formation, and I continued to hunt the
Speaker 1: property and change the formation every time I passed it,
Speaker 1: each time wondering what it could be. One night, after
Speaker 1: hunting with my daughter, we decided to stop and have
Speaker 1: a beer with my brother in law, and after a
Speaker 1: couple of beers, I told my brother in law, I'm
Speaker 1: starting to get a little freaked out about a rock
Speaker 1: formation that I'm finding on this property. I changed the
Speaker 1: formation every time I passed, and it always returns to
Speaker 1: the same formation. When I come back, he broke out
Speaker 1: laughing and he said, damn, that was you doing that.
Speaker 1: We marked our dog's grave with those rocks, and we
Speaker 1: were starting to get a little freaked out ourselves because
Speaker 1: something kept unstacking the rocks. Boy, did I feel stupid.
Speaker 1: This year, I was camping in the Adirondez and my
Speaker 1: son drove up to camp with us. He had made
Speaker 1: a plan to wake up about ten thirty pm and
Speaker 1: drive to White Face Mountain in the middle of the night.
Speaker 1: He planned to meet a couple of friends there and
Speaker 1: hike the mountain in the dark. The goal was to
Speaker 1: be at the top for sunrise. I thought this was
Speaker 1: a crazy idea. There was no cell phone reception there
Speaker 1: and no idea how to find the trailhead. Well, it
Speaker 1: took my GPS and I marked a route that I
Speaker 1: thought would take him to the trailhead, and off he
Speaker 1: went in the middle of the night. He returned the
Speaker 1: next day at three pm to my campsite, and he
Speaker 1: proceeded to talk about his height. It was amazing to
Speaker 1: watch the sunrise from the tip of White Face Mountain,
Speaker 1: he said, and that about halfway up the mountain they
Speaker 1: ran into an intense smell. He said, it smell like
Speaker 1: garbage and mixed with body odor. Oh, my gosh, these
Speaker 1: oh never mind, it's the descriptions of these odors. They
Speaker 1: catch me off guard and I start laughing. He writes,
Speaker 1: it was so strong that they imagine garbage and body odor. Oh,
Speaker 1: it's like some old bomb laying in a big pile
Speaker 1: of garbage. I don't know, laying in a garbage truck
Speaker 1: or something. Okay, I gotta get that out of my mind.
Speaker 1: It was so strong that they had to cover their
Speaker 1: face with a claw. The smell stayed with them the
Speaker 1: rest of the night, and when the sun rose, the
Speaker 1: smell went away. He said that on the return hike
Speaker 1: down the mountain, they found no trace of the smell.
Speaker 1: He asked me what I thought. I told him that
Speaker 1: I thought they were followed by a sisquatch. That was
Speaker 1: his thought too, and he just wanted to hear someone
Speaker 1: else confirm his thoughts. Later that night, I sat by
Speaker 1: my campfire, thinking I was possibly changing the rock pattern
Speaker 1: again by telling him it was sisquatch. I know there
Speaker 1: is something out there, but it is not behind every tree.
Speaker 1: And he signs the regards Charles Charles I'm sorry I
Speaker 1: laughed at your story, but I think you got a minute.
Speaker 1: I think you were probably laughing at the whole thing too. Now,
Speaker 1: this is a story I didn't edit. Normally, I get
Speaker 1: these stories in and I read through them and some
Speaker 1: lily hush, she's barking at a chicken. Sometimes it's like
Speaker 1: the order of things is a little out and I'll
Speaker 1: rearrange paragraphs. No, all you bigfoot purists, I don't change
Speaker 1: the stories. I don't write every story. I do make
Speaker 1: them where they sound good. I try to make them
Speaker 1: where they're easy to follow and good. But anyway, all
Speaker 1: that said, I didn't do that on this one. And
Speaker 1: in the middle there's some and I couldn't quite understand
Speaker 1: what was going on with the guy with the wooden
Speaker 1: bigfoot feet walking around. I couldn't quite tell what was
Speaker 1: going on in that part. Maybe you guys want to
Speaker 1: go back and listen to it, but I just read
Speaker 1: his letters straight off. I thought this was a good story,
Speaker 1: and I thought it would include. It was a good story.
Speaker 1: It was a really good story. So I hope you
Speaker 1: guys enjoyed it, and maybe all can figure out how
Speaker 1: his cousin or his cousin's husband. How that story went.
Speaker 1: Somebody saw bigfoot tracks, they went and warned all their neighbors.
Speaker 1: They found out that they were hoaxed, and they just
Speaker 1: hung their head and walked off. But I couldn't quite
Speaker 1: figure out how that fit in this whole story. But
Speaker 1: that doesn't matter. It's a real good story.