Speaker 1: The first encounter took place in the summer of nineteen
Speaker 1: seventy six at Cougar Hot Springs, nine miles outside of
Speaker 1: Blue River, Oregon, in the Willamette National Forest. I was
Speaker 1: living in the woods in Willamette National Forest with my
Speaker 1: boyfriend in a semi log cabin. I say semi because
Speaker 1: it had a roof and walls on only three sides.
Speaker 1: There was no bathroom, kitchen, or bedroom. A fire pit
Speaker 1: stood in front of where the fourth wall should have been.
Speaker 1: The nearest home was nine miles away. Since it was
Speaker 1: a national forest, regular housing was not allowed. We were
Speaker 1: about a mile from the actual hot springs for which
Speaker 1: the place was named, but it was mainly frequented by
Speaker 1: hippies back then, since hiking had not yet become popular.
Speaker 1: The cabin could only be reached by going up a
Speaker 1: small path on a steep old, gross timber covered mountain side.
Speaker 1: There were no roads beyond the highway below, no campers
Speaker 1: or camping, or no dwelling of any kind. No one
Speaker 1: was hanging around the cabin during the day. It was
Speaker 1: only used by us and an occasional friend or to
Speaker 1: at night. We were hiding from the police. I had
Speaker 1: run away from home to escape my alcoholic stepfather. The
Speaker 1: hot Springs was a party place with a lot of
Speaker 1: pot smoking and drinking. It was not a family place
Speaker 1: by any means. One moonless night, as we were climbing
Speaker 1: up to the cabin at about one in the morning,
Speaker 1: sounds erupted all around us. We were only about halfway
Speaker 1: into the woods, and being comfortable with the path, we
Speaker 1: hadn't brought a flashlight. There were multiple voices, all yelling
Speaker 1: at the same time. If you could call it yelling,
Speaker 1: it was more like singing in the sense that the
Speaker 1: sounds were controlled. They started with one octave, held the
Speaker 1: note for about a minute, and then changed to another octave.
Speaker 1: They were voices in unison, almost like a choir. It
Speaker 1: went on for a good ten minutes. They weren't human,
Speaker 1: at least they didn't sound human, but what else could
Speaker 1: they be. It was like a Gregorian chant with all
Speaker 1: the monks chanting just one sound. All that chanting at
Speaker 1: once was terrifying. We found the little cops of tall
Speaker 1: pine trees and cowered down to the ground, hugging ourselves
Speaker 1: to a tree trunk for protection, and frantically whispering to
Speaker 1: each other, what is that? There were no lights of
Speaker 1: any kind, just voices coming from all directions, and they
Speaker 1: surrounded us. They weren't human voices, but they weren't mechanical either.
Speaker 1: They were organic and changed in perfect unison with perfect precision.
Speaker 1: They were close enough that we should have seen something.
Speaker 1: If they'd been a human, we should have seen them.
Speaker 1: Even if they'd been a bunch of aliens, we'd have
Speaker 1: seen something lights or figures moving about. At least if
Speaker 1: it had been a Satanist Wickens, both of which are
Speaker 1: known to use the woods for their various rights, we
Speaker 1: would have seen or heard someone or something because these
Speaker 1: sounds were right on top of us. But we saw nothing.
Speaker 1: There were no shadows, no movement, and no other sounds either.
Speaker 1: It was like we had stepped into a different world.
Speaker 1: It was nothing like we'd ever heard or experienced before.
Speaker 1: In April of twenty nineteen, it was Easter weekend and
Speaker 1: we were camping in our RVs in Tobec Canyon, Colorado.
Speaker 1: We'd planned on boondocking, no electric or sewer hookups, just
Speaker 1: generators in the hilly canyons outside of Tobec Canyon, east
Speaker 1: of Grand Junction, not far from the Colorado River. There
Speaker 1: was a decent sized group of us, and so we
Speaker 1: circled our RVs like a wagon train, leaving a huge
Speaker 1: place in the middle for the campfire. Ours was parked
Speaker 1: next to a ravine that was full of wash from
Speaker 1: the many commonly occurring flash floods in the canyon lands
Speaker 1: and deserts. The ground was a mix of scrub grass
Speaker 1: and red earth. All around us were ridges and slopes
Speaker 1: covered in boulders and dotted with small cave openings. The
Speaker 1: first night, we played music, we cooked dinner, We made
Speaker 1: some'mores and drank wine, and hung out in chairs around
Speaker 1: the fire. The kids, ranging in age from three to thirteen,
Speaker 1: rode their bikes and played around the RVs when they
Speaker 1: weren't at the fire, making more s'mores. My husband went
Speaker 1: to bed early because he'd been up since four thirty
Speaker 1: that morning. He and my son in law had come
Speaker 1: up early to set up camp. My daughter is a
Speaker 1: full time nurse and I had not retired from teaching. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: my husband stuck his head out the door and asked,
Speaker 1: why is someone slamming into the RV? What I exclaimed,
Speaker 1: We're all sitting here by the fire. No one's around
Speaker 1: the RV. Or slamming into it. And then I asked,
Speaker 1: was it many Many was a tiny men pin? No,
Speaker 1: he said, it was too heavy, like a person. Someone
Speaker 1: slammed into the RV. Many's too small. She couldn't have
Speaker 1: done that. I had a creepy feeling in my gut
Speaker 1: at that point, but I didn't say anything. The next day,
Speaker 1: everyone went to explore one of the red earth covered
Speaker 1: ridges while I took a shower. They said they were
Speaker 1: going to wait for me, but the three year old
Speaker 1: twins got antsy, so they all went ahead. I didn't
Speaker 1: know it, but one of the women found a huge
Speaker 1: footprint on top of that ridge. She took a picture
Speaker 1: of it, but it wasn't until later, when she posted
Speaker 1: it to Facebook that I knew anything about it. In
Speaker 1: the early hours of the next morning, around four am,
Speaker 1: my husband jerked me awake and was loudly what was that?
Speaker 1: What was what? I asked, still half asleep. You didn't
Speaker 1: feel that, he said, emphatically, No, what I answered, confused.
Speaker 1: Someone slammed into the RV hard enough to rocket, he said,
Speaker 1: and then he added, I'm not going out there to
Speaker 1: find out what it was. I knew then what was
Speaker 1: going on inside I was freaking out. My husband knew
Speaker 1: I believed in Bigfoot. Later we talked about it, he
Speaker 1: said it was a person big enough to rock the
Speaker 1: entire RV. This RV is thirty five feet long. It
Speaker 1: has a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room in a second
Speaker 1: small room with two bunks. We eventually went outside to
Speaker 1: look for footprints, but we didn't find anything. We searched
Speaker 1: down in the ravine as well, but there were no
Speaker 1: footprints there either. On a warm June day in twenty
Speaker 1: nineteen at Sequoia National Forest, my family and I were
Speaker 1: high one of the seldomly used pathways. As we entered,
Speaker 1: we'd heard woodknocks and sounds like monkeys. There were no
Speaker 1: other sounds at all, no birds or insects, and no wind.
Speaker 1: At one point, we heard something huge slamming to the
Speaker 1: ground not far from us. We thought it was an airplane.
Speaker 1: When we witnessed a commercial airliner crash into some houses
Speaker 1: in San Diego in nineteen seventy seven, there was a
Speaker 1: mushroom cloud of smoke, so we looked up, but we
Speaker 1: didn't see any of that. We knew it wasn't an
Speaker 1: earthquake either. Later, as we headed out, we came across
Speaker 1: some park rangers in the parking area who wanted to
Speaker 1: ask us some questions, and we told them about the sound,
Speaker 1: and they told us it was a tree that had fallen.
Speaker 1: They said nothing like that ever happened before. We thought
Speaker 1: that was odd because trees come down there every year.
Speaker 1: They didn't elaborate, so we assumed they must have been
Speaker 1: referring to the fact that it was a warm, windless day,
Speaker 1: not a snow storm or other inclement weather. On Monday,
Speaker 1: December second, twenty nineteen, in Grand Junction, Colorado, my husband
Speaker 1: had gone to bed early. He's a chef and Tuesdays
Speaker 1: or truck Day, meaning he has to get up early
Speaker 1: and be at the restaurant to check the food delivery.
Speaker 1: He has no trouble sleeping with the television and lights on,
Speaker 1: so as always I was up much later than him.
Speaker 1: I'm retired now finally as a teacher. Our house is
Speaker 1: on the edge of town in a semi rural area
Speaker 1: known as Orchard Mesa, next to the Colorado River. To
Speaker 1: the west, it extends into the Colorado National Monument, which
Speaker 1: is similar to a small Grand Canyon. To the south,
Speaker 1: it is the LaSalle Mountain Range, and the Arizona, New
Speaker 1: Mexico and Utah borders. East of US are fields, farms, vineyards, pastures,
Speaker 1: and small hills, all connected to the bottom of the
Speaker 1: ten thousand foot high Grand Mesa, at the top of
Speaker 1: which is a collapse volcano that forms the largest mesa
Speaker 1: platform in the country. It's dotted with alpine meadows and
Speaker 1: hundreds of lakes, past which the Colorado River winds as
Speaker 1: it makes its way to our orchard Mesa. The river
Speaker 1: in this section is heavily wooded on both sides, and
Speaker 1: all sorts of animals frequent the river. We have a
Speaker 1: few crab avel trees in the garden section of our yard,
Speaker 1: as do our neighbors. We also have grape vines and
Speaker 1: mulberry trees, all of which are inviting for various animals.
Speaker 1: And our house sits on half an acre and closed
Speaker 1: by a tall wooden fence, except for one section that
Speaker 1: is blocked off by both a huge shed and a
Speaker 1: small one connected by a gate. This is to keep
Speaker 1: our dogs from escaping through our neighbors short wire fence.
Speaker 1: We used to keep a garden back there, but life
Speaker 1: is sort of gotten in the way and now it's
Speaker 1: abandoned and full of tall. As my husband slept and
Speaker 1: I watched TV, our dog Daisy ran through the dog
Speaker 1: door out into the backyard and immediately started barking like
Speaker 1: someone was out in the road. Walking by my other dog, Timmy,
Speaker 1: who generally ignores Daisy's youthful antics, perked up his ears
Speaker 1: and then jumped off the bed and ran out the
Speaker 1: door to join her. I was a bit surprised and
Speaker 1: frankly a little concerned that they might wake up my husband.
Speaker 1: It was not entirely unusual for them to bark at
Speaker 1: the fence. People walk their dogs down to the river
Speaker 1: all the time, but this time the barking was different.
Speaker 1: Instead of the typical intermittent barking interspersed with running and
Speaker 1: pacing along the fence, they were barking on the move,
Speaker 1: as if they were hysterical. I knew immediately something was
Speaker 1: in the yard. I panicked with the thought that they
Speaker 1: may have cornered a rabbit, skunk, or a coon. I
Speaker 1: didn't want to have the break up any fights, even
Speaker 1: more so I didn't want to get bit. And furthermore,
Speaker 1: we once saw a raccoon in our garbage area, big
Speaker 1: enough to be mistaken for a dog. If that's what
Speaker 1: they were up against, I knew they would be outmatched.
Speaker 1: With all of this running through my mind, I jumped
Speaker 1: out of bed and grabbed a flashlight from the cupboard
Speaker 1: and headed outside. I could see them all in the
Speaker 1: small shed, barking towards the abandoned garden area. I was
Speaker 1: grateful for the fence between them and whatever they were
Speaker 1: barking at, and I yelled for them to stop it
Speaker 1: and come on. In twenty years of teaching, in thirty
Speaker 1: eight years of parenting has given my voice the kind
Speaker 1: of authoritative sound not to be ignored. But the speed
Speaker 1: with which they responded was more than just a little surprising.
Speaker 1: I figured it must have been a raccoon they were
Speaker 1: barking at. Bears were already hibernating. Dogs would have barked
Speaker 1: back or even fought back. The cat would have run
Speaker 1: off right away. After I ushered the dogs back into
Speaker 1: the house, curiosity got the better of me, and I
Speaker 1: turned the powerful flashlight I was using back on the yard.
Speaker 1: I stepped as close to the little shed as fear
Speaker 1: and caution would allow, and I raised the light a
Speaker 1: little higher, and I caught movement behind and a little
Speaker 1: above it. The problem was I shouldn't have been able
Speaker 1: to see anything above the shed. The only thing back
Speaker 1: there to stand on was the neighbor's flimsy four foot
Speaker 1: high wire fence. However, I could see a bulky shape
Speaker 1: moving around back there, like someone hunched over in an
Speaker 1: orange and tan coat. My mind started racing with thoughts
Speaker 1: and questions. Is that the neighbor's teens going up to
Speaker 1: no good again? Those kids had proven themselves to be
Speaker 1: trouble in the past, so anything was possible. And then
Speaker 1: I realized the person in question was coming into my yard.
Speaker 1: I couldn't believe they weren't reacting to the light. It
Speaker 1: was all happening so quickly, though, that I didn't have
Speaker 1: time to do anything but watch while this person moved closer.
Speaker 1: He or she or it was moving in a weird
Speaker 1: gliding way. There was no head bobbing, just a smooth glide.
Speaker 1: I thought, is that a cat on top of the roof?
Speaker 1: But it was too big? Why was it so big?
Speaker 1: Was it a raccoon? How did it get up the
Speaker 1: side of the metal shed? And then the moment hit,
Speaker 1: the exact second when my eyes revealed the truth and
Speaker 1: my mind accepted it. It had stopped gliding and turned
Speaker 1: towards me, creating a silhouette made up of an apex
Speaker 1: center and sloping shoulders. This wasn't something on top of
Speaker 1: the roof. It was something behind the shed, and if
Speaker 1: I could see it, this something had to be taller
Speaker 1: than eight feet. I knew what it was. I couldn't
Speaker 1: breathe as I stared at that classic Patty style bigfoot silhouet.
Speaker 1: I could see long tan hair streaked with brown covering
Speaker 1: its head. I don't remember its eyes. Maybe I didn't
Speaker 1: want to make eye contact. That would have made it
Speaker 1: more real and more dangerous. It froze, and my mind
Speaker 1: began to tell me I was only seeing stone where
Speaker 1: it was standing. I couldn't be seeing anything. I thought,
Speaker 1: this is my fault, and it's here they know me.
Speaker 1: This is my fault. I kept staring at the stone
Speaker 1: image in front of me, burning the picture into my mind,
Speaker 1: proving to myself I was seeing it, and telling myself
Speaker 1: I wasn't crazy. I could feel it looking at me.
Speaker 1: Fright dissolved into flight. Run, I mentally screamed at myself.
Speaker 1: Instantly I turned and ran back inside, slamming the locked
Speaker 1: door behind me. More questions came. Should I wake my husband?
Speaker 1: What should I do? Oh? My god, I don't know
Speaker 1: what to do. He won't believe me anyway. I know
Speaker 1: he knows now that these things exist, but he won't
Speaker 1: believe that there's one in our backyard. It's just too
Speaker 1: much of a coincidence. Not knowing what else to do,
Speaker 1: I turned to the group chat on messenger, where I
Speaker 1: had shared my other experiences. Fortunately someone was online and
Speaker 1: I was able to relate the entire event. He told
Speaker 1: me to go back out there. What heck, no, I said,
Speaker 1: there's no way, try, he said, somewhere down inside. Maybe Foolishly,
Speaker 1: I found the courage to take his advice. At his request,
Speaker 1: I put him on live feed, and carrying my phone
Speaker 1: in the flashlight, I went back outside. I was grateful
Speaker 1: for the light behind that shed that revealed no silhouette.
Speaker 1: This time, my adrenaline was so high, so much so
Speaker 1: that I barely noticed the icy cement under my stocking feet.
Speaker 1: But standing out there and facing my fear was quickly
Speaker 1: erasing the terror that had gripped me earlier. The next day,
Speaker 1: as instructed by my friend, I went back out and
Speaker 1: took pictures, and when my husband got home, I told
Speaker 1: him the entire ordeal, and we walked out together to
Speaker 1: look at the grass that was tamped down. There was
Speaker 1: a path leading to the neighbor's wire fence. There were
Speaker 1: spots that could be giant footprints, but all too grassy
Speaker 1: to be sure. But it was evidence enough for me,
Speaker 1: so I examined the shit and confirmed that there was
Speaker 1: no place for a raccoon to climb on top of it.
Speaker 1: I took pictures of everything. It's been five years since
Speaker 1: this happened. Although I didn't actually see anything, I can't
Speaker 1: just explain away what happened either. I guess that's why
Speaker 1: it stays with me to this day. I bought a
Speaker 1: fifth wheel located in Henderson, Texas. It was parked in
Speaker 1: an RV camp just outside of town. The park was
Speaker 1: surrounded by a large, fairly dense forest, and there were
Speaker 1: about fifteen other RVs park there as well, with the
Speaker 1: woods behind us. I had never stayed in an RV
Speaker 1: before I bought it to get out of the city
Speaker 1: and rest. I'm a retired nurse. I was glad to
Speaker 1: get out of the city and travel for a while.
Speaker 1: I had my dog with me, my buddy and traveling
Speaker 1: companion of thirteen years, Roscoe. Roscoe and I enjoyed going
Speaker 1: for long walks. Sometimes we'd venture into the forest behind
Speaker 1: the fifth wheel. It was quiet back there and peaceful.
Speaker 1: It had a calming effect on me at times, though
Speaker 1: it could be a little spooky. It was almost like
Speaker 1: I could feel eyes watching me. There was one event
Speaker 1: during my stay in that area that I will never forget.
Speaker 1: Roscoe and I were off on one of our walks.
Speaker 1: We decided to take the trail leading into the forest.
Speaker 1: We took our usual walk around and then started back
Speaker 1: up the trail. Suddenly, Roscoe whined softly. He stood alert,
Speaker 1: sniffing something beyond my senses. The hair stood up on
Speaker 1: his back as he stared deeper into the forest. I
Speaker 1: couldn't tell what he was seeing, or smelling or sensing.
Speaker 1: Not knowing what he knew only served to make me
Speaker 1: even more nervous. Then his tail went down, the hair
Speaker 1: on his back stood more rigid, and his neck rough
Speaker 1: fluffed up. He had a look that I've only seen
Speaker 1: when he doesn't like whatever he's seeing. It was a
Speaker 1: warning look of danger. I softly said his name, and
Speaker 1: in response, He whined again and looked straightforward, as if
Speaker 1: to say, Mom, there's something out there. Roscoe will chase cats,
Speaker 1: and he's been known to be slightly protective of me
Speaker 1: around strangers, but this was more than usual. It was
Speaker 1: something different. He was truly spooked and he stood there
Speaker 1: for a few more minutes, but I couldn't see or
Speaker 1: hear anything. Eventually we moved up on the road to
Speaker 1: my trailer. That night was a little weird as well.
Speaker 1: I like to go out on my porch and sit.
Speaker 1: There's something truly magical about the sounds of the crickets
Speaker 1: and nightbirds, and course with the tree frogs and the
Speaker 1: katie DIDs. It was a nice way to end each day.
Speaker 1: But that night there were no sounds. It was deathly quiet.
Speaker 1: There were no crickets, no birds or anything. Rather than
Speaker 1: being relaxing, it was a bit nerve racking. The next day,
Speaker 1: when Roscoe and I took our walk, we started down
Speaker 1: the trail into the woods again. This time there was
Speaker 1: a small tree branch leaned over the trail. It wasn't
Speaker 1: like it had broken and fallen it was damaged. It
Speaker 1: was just leaned over to block the trail. I thought
Speaker 1: it was rather peculiar, and Roscoe was acting funny again.
Speaker 1: He was looking down the trail and acting like he
Speaker 1: didn't want to go into the forest, and I decided
Speaker 1: we take a different raph for the next few days
Speaker 1: and check out the camp instead. That evening, I took
Speaker 1: my usual seat outside of my trailer. This time I
Speaker 1: heard some weird breaking noises in the forest behind me,
Speaker 1: but I didn't get up to investigate. The hair was
Speaker 1: standing up on the back of my neck and I
Speaker 1: got this really creepy feeling that I couldn't shape. I
Speaker 1: left there a week later for better camping spots. While
Speaker 1: we were there, I never actually saw anything or even
Speaker 1: really heard anything other than some breaking sounds, but that
Speaker 1: was one that stayed with me and probably always will.
Speaker 1: Thank you for reading this. It was nice to share
Speaker 1: it with someone.