www.bfro.net/GDB/show_report.asp?id=15821

apparetly its from a sniper.....

anyone have any cool bigfoot stories??

WHen I was a kid in upstate NY around1985 or86 I woke to the sound of something brushing up against my families trailer home,nearest town was small and 7 miles away,I turned on a light and saw something staring into my bedroom window(about8' off the ground)I was so startled I tried to scream and nothing came out.By the time it did,whatever it was has bugged out,my mom convinced me It was just a bad dream,and that was the end of it.Years later I heard of other people having that happen and figured that if it wasn't a nightmare(and I'm sure I was quite awake) that it must have been a bigfoot.I am an avid outdoorsman,it was definatly not a bear.Was very fierce looking for a 15-16 year old though.After that night my shotgun became my bestest buddy whenever I went in the woods,my .22 just seemed to under powered,go figure!!

ill throw my personal story in here.

my wife and I were bored one night, and on a whim, decided to go to the VERY remote spot in the national forest that is NOT a campground, and have a practice "bug out" ie, we pack up as fast as possible, and take notes.

well, we get there, and it went well. I had a G17, M4, and tacticool 870 with us. not under gunned at all.

we lay down to go to sleep, and then WE HEAR IT. that horrible howl, that I had never heard before. neither of us said anything, because we thought we immagined it and didnt want to scare the other one. this is me--> this is her-->

we also heard wood knocks that night also.

after about 5 mins, I leaned over to my wife, and said, "honey, I dont feel good. lets go home"

lets just say she was "eager"

after a terribley stressful pack up, we got into the car and on the road.

we then BOTH came clean, that we had heard the "ohio howl" and that our hearing it had been separte (neither of us influenced each other)

nowadays, I never go into the woods alone, or unarmed.

its better to be judged by six than carried by, well, bigfoot.

have you ever read "the bauman story?"

Is the link safe for work?

LOCATION DETAILS: trail from Wright's Lake to Enchanted Pools

NEAREST TOWN: Wright's Lake

NEAREST ROAD: Wright's road

OBSERVED: I used to live in Camino, CA and would go up into Desolation Wilderness as often as I could. The trout fishing was really incredible and it left a wonderful lasting memory with me. Since moving from the area, I hadn't been there in several years. I talked to a friend of mine about going up and camp overnight and do some stream fishing. He agreed and also invited another friend along for the ride.

We got up there in the early afternoon and hiked upstream from Wright's lake and then set up camp. A couple hours later a ranger came by and informed us that we hadn't actually made it into Desolation Wilderness yet, and that we needed to keep hiking for a while. We broke camp and then the 2 guys that were with me, suggested that we go into Placerville and get a room. Apparently they weren't up to camping and fishing after all. I said no thanks and that I wanted to come up here, to come up there and fish, not go party somewhere in town. So they left and I went up the hill farther. The ranger had suggested a great camping and fishing location, but because it was starting to get later in the afternoon, there was no way I would make it all the way before dark. He gave me a general location of where it could be found and what trails to take to get there, but when most of the area is large (football field size) sheets of granite, the trails are only marked with stacks of rocks and they are few and far between.

I ended up getting lost a bit, but I could hear the stream flowing over rocks to the north of me. I walked in another half mile or so and located the stream. Below me about 35 feet down a granite cliff was a stream that did have a pool in it, right on the tree line.
I thought what a beautiful place that would be to have a campsite and then picked my way down the steep cliff side. I set up my camp directly next to the pool and also with the treeline and some very dense woods about 6 feet away to the north. The pool was on the east side of me. I started fishing as soon as my tent was back up and had a gorgeous finish to a very nice day. Then after it got dark, I climbed into my sleeping bag looking to the east to the Crystal range, I think it is called, and watched as the glow of a full moon worked it's way up over the top of the granite mountains. Once it was over, my day was complete and I decided to go to sleep. That was at 10:30 pm.

As I started to drift off to sleep, I heard what can only be described as a very low rumbling growl. When I go into a wilderness area, especially a place I know has bears really thick, I always carry a handgun with me. On this occassion it was a .45 compact. When I heard the growl, it really scared the crap out of me, because it was so close. I jumped up, with my .45 in hand and looked out the top of the screen mesh on the tent. I could see a dark mass about 4 1/2 feet tall, right at the edge of the tree line, 6 feet from my head. I yelled some really loud obscenities and started climbing out of my tent. Once I was clear of the door I brought up my pistol and fired into a dead tree a few feet away from what I thought was a big black bear. As soon as the pistol went off, it turned and ran back into the brush, but it didn't seem to go very far and that concerned me. Bears will usually run like heck and for a long time when they get a shot that close. This seemed to go maybe 50 feet or so into very thick brush. I could hear it thrashing about as it moved deeper into the trees, but then it just stopped. It all went quiet for about 15 minutes or so and then I tried going back to bed. Shortly after I started hearing what sounded like somewhat large rocks, hitting in the water, just above the pool I was camped beside. It would happen every couple of minutes or so. It was the sound of not only the splash, but also of the rock hitting other rocks, submerged in shin deep water. That "cracking" sound. This really concerned me, thinking the "bear" may be circling my campsite and trying to get at me from a different angle. I got out out my tent on several occasions, and was trying to see if I could make out any movement on the other side of the stream but nothing. I usually keep a small flashlight in my tackle box, which I had, but it was one of those small "shake it" and it charges up the cell and lights up for a few minutes. Not much of a flashlight really and worse yet, the handle is clear and so when I would turn it on, the handle would light up too, actually making it harder to see. I had a full moon though and the area is surrounded with stark white granite slabs, and so except in the darkest of the woods, I could see pretty clearly. This went on like this until 2:00 am. That was when I got another "visit". I didn't get to see it, this time, but I heard movement really close to my tent again, same place as the first time, and when I yelled at it, I got a return of something that sounded like an "Ooof" "Ooof", but really deep sounding. I jumped out of my tent again thinking I was going to see it again, but didnt. Still, I put another shot into the dead tree and off it went crashing through the brush again. Again it only went about 50 feet back. There was something odd about the way it sounded when it was running too. I didn't catch what it was though until I listened to the footsteps of a bipedal walking from your site here. It was only on two feet!! It concerned me enough to realize that it didn't sound like a 4 legged animal at the time, but I didn't know what was different until I heard your recordings. Anyway, still thinking I was dealing with a rogue bear, I started trying to figure out what it wanted with me. Was I camped on it's trail to the water? Was it used to finding food in tents? Desolation is a very high traffic place. This particular place was a ways off the trail and it didn't appear to have much in the way of hikers. Hikers usually leave some kind of sign, trash, fish hooks, something to say that they were here before, but this place was very clean.

So I decide to take my sleeping bag out of the tent and move over to the middle of this big slab of granite that I am on. There is about a 4 foot tall ledge facing the woods where all the activity was going on. But now the treeline is 50 feet away and not 6. Figuring this would give me some advance warning if I got charged. The rocks kept flying, and I kept trying to sleep with one eye open, hoping the sun would come up soon, and checking my watch all night long. Then "she" showed up. It was 4:40 am and something woke me. I heard movement at the tree line again and I looked to where it all started from. I didn't see anything but then I looked at my tent. Standing right next to my tent was the "creature?". My tent is about 4 feet tall maybe a little less and what I saw was more than twice as tall. At first I couldn't see any features, just the outline. Then it took a couple of steps towards me. I almost pee'd my pants right there. I picked up the .45 and took a shot off to the left of it. It stopped and looked at me. Then it started walking towards me again. It was very fast. I don't mean that it was running, it's just that the steps were so big, the distance was closing very fast. Had it been a bear, I would have shot it immediately, but honestly, I don't think my .45 would have been able to stop it. One shot would definitely not killed it or stopped it in its tracks. Then as it was approaching me, I took another shot, but this one much closer. I could see it very clearly at this point and yes I did pee my pants. The second shot made her stop again, and then she took off running to the northwest through an area of mostly granite slab and dotted with scrub pine. This was the last time I saw her. She ran off out of sight at great speed. I stayed up the rest of the night until it got light enough for me to hike back towards Wrights Lake to the South West. For the remainder of the darkness I pretty much stayed put with the ledge to my back and my gun in my hand, and shaking in my skin. I have not been able to sleep right since then, and for the next couple of months after the incident, I couldn't sleep at all. Everytime I closed my eyes, I would hear the growls and the rocks splashing and then see her coming at me. I would be willing to take someone back up there to show where it happened, but only during daylight hours. I have been a hunter and fisherman most of my life and have seen what I thought, was every animal in the woods at one time or another. Nothing like this has ever shown it's face before, and I hope it never does again.

There was another incident however. On December 13th, 1992 up in Snow Mountain Wilderness area, above Elk Creek California. I would be willing to talk to someone about this also.

ALSO NOTICED: There was so much going on. At first, there was the growl heard right outside my tent, and when I jumped up and looked out the rain fly on top, I could see it, crouched down. This is what made me intially think it was a large bear. It was a large mass about 4 1/2 feet tall tucked in the treeline about 6 feet away. When I jumped out and yelled at "it" and then fired my .45 into a dead tree a few feet away, it ran away into the brush, but only about 50 feet back into the woods. This I thought was unusual, because a bear will usually take off running and not stop until sunrise! After about 15 mintues it got really quiet and I assumed it had left the area. But thats when the rocks started landing in the water just upstream about 20 yards. This went on all night long. Just as I was ready to get back to sleep, another rock or two would hit the shallow stream and make a splash as well as the rock on rock "cracking" noise. That was followed up by another visit at 2:00 am and then the biggy at 4:40am.

OTHER WITNESSES: No. Unfortunately it was only me.

OTHER STORIES: no not in this area, and I have been going there for many years. When I lived in the area I used to go into Desolation wilderness all the time. Just about every weekend that I wasn't working during the summer months. I've camped there at Wright's Lake as well as with my stepson at Dark Lake. There was one time when we spent the night at Dark Lake, that we had footsteps all around our campsite and it kept us up all night, not knowing for sure what it was, and there was some wood knocking going on then too. But other than that, the only other time where I had an encounter was a hunting trip into the Snow Mountain wilderness area up above Elk Creek, California. That will be a whole different episode!

TIME AND CONDITIONS: from 10:35pm until 4:40am the following morning.

ENVIRONMENT: It is primarily glaciated granite, surrounded by sparse high altitude pine trees. You know how the trees start getting thin and scraggly when you get up above 7,000 feet.


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Follow-up investigation report:

This credible sighting lasted long enough for the witness to make some focused observations. I interviewed the witness by telephone, and asked for some clarifications and other observations not given in the report, based on my notes from the original information submitted. The conversation lasted an hour and a half, discussing a variety of subjects; some not related to the encounter. I undoubtedly did not ask all the questions about the encounter that I could have, and in writing this report from my notes, other questions about movement and morphology have come to mind. I will be in contact with the witness, and may possibly have him take me to the site sometime in the next few weeks. This report may be updated as I learn more about the encounter.

The witness is ex-military, having had training as a sniper; this training involves observation as much or more than it does weapons proficiency. It can be assumed that the witness is excellent at judging distance and size, as well as relative features of the terrain.

In a phone conversation with the witness, the investigator obtained the following information:

Description:

When the figure got within about 15 feet of the witness, the bright full moonlight illuminated the front of it and allowed this witness to see some details of the face shape, among other things. The animal's face was "similar to a human," with the nose being slightly wider, and the lips about the same proportion as human. The nostrils faced downward, not outward like a gorilla. The lower jaw was wider and larger in proportion to the head than a human. There was hair on the face and jaw, similar to a beard, about 1-1.5" in length. The hair on the head, shoulders and arms was considerably longer, ranging from 3-8". The hair was not thick like fur, as the skin could be seen through it in places. The witness said that he could see breasts, and decided that it was a female based on that observation; "Breasts were large and saggy, but everything was for the most part, proportionate. They weren't excessively large. Yes, I saw the nipples, brown in color".

The eyes appeared brown, with no whites showing. Eyes were about the same size in proportion to the head as a human. The level of the mouth was about even with the shoulders. The arm length was longer than human, with the fingertips not quite reaching the knees.

The head was conical in appearance from the side, but the "cone" was not evident when facing the animal. The back of the head appeared mainly flat coming down from the peak of the "cone" toward the shoulders. (The above description is as related by the witness sitting on the ground 15' away from the animal, looking upwards at it)

Movement:
The arms were carried low while walking both at a "normal" pace and when retreating rapidly; they did not bend at the elbow as much as a person moving rapidly. The walking strides were particularly long, covering a lot of distance quickly, but not in a jerky or forced manner. The fast retreat involved more arm motion, and when asked specifically about whether at any time both feet were off the ground (running; vs. one foot in the air at a time being considered walking), the witness thought that they might have been off the ground at the same time, but wasn't certain. The overall motion while moving rapidly was said to be a loping motion. Before the retreat, the animal turned it's head rapidly and looked toward the treeline. This movement was stated to involve only the head, which turned sideways parallel to the shoulders, followed by the body in the same direction, at which time the animal began it's rapid retreat in that direction. It reportedly did not head directly toward the treeline and cover, but headed off over the granite keeping the same general course until it was out of sight.

Sounds:
The initial growl was very loud, and deeper in tamber than the witness could imitate. The witness said that it seemed that the growl was directed at them, and not an ancillary growl in general. The "oof oof" sounds were also very deep, each lasting about a half second, separated by as much time (from witness's imitation).

Other:
Height is estimated at 84"-90" (7'-7'6"), based on the relative height when compared to the tent, which measures 42" tall. Witness said that it was about twice as tall or a little more than the tent when standing next to it.


Rock throwing came from the same strip of trees where the 4.5' tall mass was initially seen. This strip of trees was about 15' wide near the tent, and narrowed to about 6' where it reached the stream. The strip of trees widened as it got further from the stream; pie shaped. The initial sound of the animal running away went into the thicker section of the strip away from the stream.

There was no indication that there was more than one animal involved, or in the area. The audible rock throwing did not occur while the animal was in sight.

No smells were mentioned.

No eye reflection was mentioned.

When asked about whether the animal had any expression (anthropomorphic) on it's face as it approached, the witness said that it had none that they could discern.

Exchanges of topo maps and aerial photographs have pinpointed the location of the incident.

Added Oct. 25:
I returned to the location with the witness, and took pictures and measurements. I reconstructed his campsite with flagging tape to show orientation of the tent, and relative location(s) of the animal. I also videotaped his accounting of what happened. We found the bullet holes in the stump, and they lined up exactly with the spot where he said he was standing outside his tent. We also found a depression in the ground, 8'x6' x 3' deep, in the general location that the rocks were being thrown from. I tossed a couple baseball sized rocks into the stream from there, and the witness said that was similar to the sound that he heard. We did a quick survey of the area, and found a couple foot shaped depressions, but they were old and could have easily been made by a hiker. No tree-breaks, stacking, isolated limb breaks or other suspected sasquatch related behavior was noticed. Any tracks left from the encounter would have been obliterated by the winter snow and runoff. Some of the measurements were off from the witness's estimations; the stump was about 24', not 6' from the tent door. The treeline was about 15' at the closest to the tent. The animal did approach within 15' of his hiding place, though. It should be mentioned that the terrain in this area is three-dimensional. There are ledges and slopes and steps everywhere; the location where the witness was sitting on the granite against a ledge was actually several feet lower in elevation than the water level near his tent 25' away. The spot where the animal was standing next to the tent was almost a foot higher than the ground the tent was on, and the base of the stump was over 2' higher than the ground at the tent. The spot where it stood 15' from the witness was a little over a foot higher than the ground at his location. While the terrain in that area has a lot of open space on the granite, the drainages and cracks and canyons are very thick with trees and brush. There are nearby grassy meadows and swampy areas, as well as mountain lakes and streams. We noticed bear tracks on route to the site, and there was evidence of deer, so this area can support large animals at least in the summer. Clarification on the amount of light available at 04:30 that night: the full moon was at the back of the witness and not diffused by trees. In the clear air of the mountains or desert, a full moon is bright enough to allow you to read a book; this is based on the personal observations of both the witness and the investigator.


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Quoted: Is the link safe for work?

absolutley. its a very good site.

Quoted: have you ever read "the bauman story?"

nope.

got a link?

is it good?

Quoted: LOCATION DETAILS: trail from Wright's Lake to Enchanted Pools ~~snip~~ --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thanks!!

I find it curious that there seems to be a 'resurgence' of Bigfeet stories.
Not to be a 'downer' or party pooper, but didn't one of the most famous Bigfoot reporters who had actually captured it on film many years ago admit it was a hoax???

I heard he had made a 'deathbed' confession of sorts. Either way I've always found the 'idea' of a Bigfoot fascinating to say the least, but I'll have to be 'convinced' of it's existence by seeing one for myself, (unlikely given my health these days) or seeing the well documented and clinically examined remains of one.......


As Fox Mulder would say; "I want to believe".....

Quoted: I find it curious that there seems to be a 'resurgence' of Bigfeet stories. Not to be a 'downer' or party pooper, but didn't one of the most famous Bigfoot reporters who had actually captured it on film many years ago admit it was a hoax??? I heard he had made a 'deathbed' confession of sorts. Either way I've always found the 'idea' of a Bigfoot fascinating to say the least, but I'll have to be 'convinced' of it's existence by seeing one for myself, (unlikely given my health these days) or seeing the well documented and clinically examined remains of one....... As Fox Mulder would say; "I want to believe".....

its all awnsered here

Quoted: Quoted: have you ever read "the bauman story?" nope. got a link? is it good?

yep. just read it.

scary shit it tell you.

anyone else have any stories?

We have threads full.

Oddly, of all the wierd shit I have seen, including one very well hallucinated Pixie, I have never seen a bigfoot.

Other bigfoot thread....some good stuff.

www.ar15.com/forums/topic.html?b=1&f=5&t=504273

I made passionate love to one once, I even made it call me daddy but it sounded more like "duhduh"

Quoted: Quoted: I find it curious that there seems to be a 'resurgence' of Bigfeet stories. Not to be a 'downer' or party pooper, but didn't one of the most famous Bigfoot reporters who had actually captured it on film many years ago admit it was a hoax??? I heard he had made a 'deathbed' confession of sorts. Either way I've always found the 'idea' of a Bigfoot fascinating to say the least, but I'll have to be 'convinced' of it's existence by seeing one for myself, (unlikely given my health these days) or seeing the well documented and clinically examined remains of one....... As Fox Mulder would say; "I want to believe"..... its all awnsered here

a quick break down...a loch ness photo was faked on stated to be faked by the photographer on his death bed when the guy who took the big foot footage died the fake loch ness statement got hooked on to him.....

.. thats where my dog was that night. lay off the moonshine pal

"The witness said that he could see breasts, and decided that it was a female based on that observation; "Breasts were large and saggy, but everything was for the most part, proportionate. They weren't excessively large. Yes, I saw the nipples, brown in color"."

oh, sorry about the hikkies

In before muddydog.

Pretty interesting fire discipline for a sniper, I thought...

How many shots at trees did he describe?

It sounds like Ms. Bigfoot was out looking to get lucky that night. For the sake of argument, let's just assume that BF is real. I'll bet that if he had not fired, he would have been curled up in the fetal position at sunrise after being forced to fornicate with Ms. Bigfoot. A story that would go with me to my grave had I been in that position.

Quoted: I made passionate love to one once, I even made it call me daddy but it sounded more like "duhduh"

is your name Bill Brasky?

Quoted: have you ever read "the bauman story?"

just read it...almost scary enough to make one sell all his guns and give up thoughts of hunting again - for sure by ones self.

meh....if you gotta die, sasquatch attack is about as cool as it comes.

How was her ass, but more importantly, did she have a bass boat?

So he fires off a warning shot with his .45 thinking it's a bear and then goes back to bed?

When it comes back AGAIN he fires another warning shot, then decides to move 50' away and tries to go back to sleep?

When it comes back AGAIN, he fires two more warning shots at it and it runs off.

How many warning shots this guy going to give before running a mozambique drill?

EPOCH

Quoted: Quoted: have you ever read "the bauman story?" just read it...almost scary enough to make one sell all his guns and give up thoughts of hunting again - for sure by ones self. meh....if you gotta die, sasquatch attack is about as cool as it comes.

that's a sacry story indeed. 1 of my favs.
I believe in sasquatch in the west in small numbers, but not in the east, so being in the east I don't have concerns of any wildlife. But it was spooky hiking at times by myself when I was in colorado in the late '90s and the night me and my dog bear spent the night high up in the holy cross wilderness by ourselves in the back of my truck. I guess if I really thought there was danger I wouldn't have been in those places, and it's not as if I was really scared, but you know how you can spook yourself sometimes.

this is a good camping story

bfro.net/GDB/show_report.asp?id=470

there's another story that's sort of spooky, the cowman of something, overall believable except for 1 thing, I'll look that up.

easy enough, long but fun and spooooooookkkkkkkkkkayyyyyyyy

“The Cowman of Copalis Beach!”  

My Dad worked in the timber industry his whole life. His Father was a logger, and he grew up in and around the woods. My Dad started his own logging company when he was eighteen, and has owned and operated shake and shingle mills from Oregon clear up to Thorn Bay, Alaska. He is an intelligent man and holds over a dozen patents for various pieces of equipment he has designed and built over the years. He has employed dozens of people over the years, all of them spending extensive time in the wilderness. When I was a boy, I remember hearing bits and pieces of conversations among some of the men at the mill. Although nobody would tell me directly, I understood that something had gone on before I was born, and it involved one of the foremen, ‘Jon’. They weren’t joking around, they were genuinely afraid, and wouldn’t talk about it with a kid.

When I was young, my Dad wouldn’t tell me about it because I would often go out into the woods cutting blocks with him on the weekends, and he didn’t want me to be afraid of the woods. While I was speaking with him last weekend, I told him of a couple of strange events that happened to me later in the wilderness, and that reminded me of the hints at a story I heard when I was a boy. After some prodding he told me the following story.

In the mid 1960’s, my Dad owned a large roofing product mill in Aberdeen, WA. He had teams of men that would cut the fallen old growth cedar salvage left after a logging operation. He had permits to salvage a large amount of wood in the coastal areas of Grays Harbor County, primarily in the area around Copalis Beach. Several of the men on his cutting crews lived in and around Copalis Beach. His foreman, a man I will call Jon for the story, was a bright, down to earth hard worker. My Dad trusted him with thousands of dollars of vehicles and equipment, as well as the safety of his crews. He was not the kind of man to make up stories.

On a Monday morning sometime in July, Jon was several hours late for work. This was highly unusual as he was always there early, getting the saws and trucks ready for the day. My dad said he was visibly shaken up, and when he asked him what was wrong, he asked my Dad to go in the office so the others wouldn’t hear them. They went in and sat down, and Jon simply said “Something destroyed our house this weekend.” My Dad thought he said “someone” broke into the house, and asked Jon if it was someone he knew. Jon said, “You don’t understand, this wasn’t a person. It was a… I don’t know what it was, but it completely trashed the house. The family is going to stay with my brother in Elma for a while.”

My dad asked him to explain what had happened. Jon said that when he got home from work Friday evening, his youngest son Tim, who was around four at the time, told him he saw a big “Cowman” walking at the edge of their field that afternoon. He thought the boy meant “Cowboy”, because some of his neighbors wore cowboy hats when they were out in the sun. He asked him if the man was wearing a cowboy hat, and the boy said, “No Daddy, he was a Cowman, furry and stinky like the cows.” He asked his wife if she knew what he was talking about, and she said Tim was playing on the porch that afternoon, when he came running in and said the cow man was stuck on the fence. He was very excited, so she went out to see what he was talking about. She said as she opened the door, she was hit by a horrible smell, like wet dogs and garbage. Tim was pointing across to the field opposite their house and said “He got loose!” She looked where he was gesturing and could see the top strand of barb wire bouncing up and down, as if somebody had just pulled on it really hard and let it go. She didn’t see the “Cowman”, and noticed nothing out of the ordinary except for the smell.

She told Tim to come inside to play for rest of the day, she felt uneasy and a little scared. Their older son, Jon Jr. who was twelve at the time, was at a friend’s house and walked home a short while after Tim saw his “Cowman”. He told her somebody had followed him home, walking in the woods off the right side of the road. He never seen who it was, they never left the woods, but he said it had to be a really big man. He would hear large sticks cracking, and the footsteps were very heavy. Once he got to the driveway of their house where the woods stopped at the field where his brother had his sighting, the footsteps stopped and Jon Jr. never saw anything. He was pretty shaken up by the event, and wanted his Dad to go out to the woods and check it out with him.

Later that evening, Jon strapped on his .357 and took his older son out into the field to have a look. They first walked to the area where the “Cowman” was supposedly stuck on the fence, and walked down the fence line looking for anything. They came upon a large clump of long, reddish brown hair tangled in the top strand of barbed wire. He tried to pull it off but it was really tangled up, so he pulled out his buck knife and sawed it off. He said the hair was over a foot long, real coarse and stringy. There appeared to be a bit of flesh matted in the clump, and the top wire was pulled loose from one of the posts. Whatever was hung up on the fence was very big. He handed the hair to his son to hold, and they climbed through the fence and walked toward the woods. He said he was looking for any sign of tracks on the ground; the hair kind of looked like it was from a horse’s mane or tail. The ground was a solid grassy field, and there were no hoof prints or any other tracks he could see.

The edge of the woods began about ten feet from the fence line, and they entered on a small game trail that deer frequented. It was around eight at night, and in the woods it was getting to be fairly dark. They walked for a ways, and soon began to smell the rotting garbage/wet dog odor his wife reported earlier. Jon said he got the feeling they were being watched, the hair on the back of his neck was standing up. He told his son they should head back before it got dark, and the boy didn’t argue. As they began walking back out, they could hear heavy footsteps off to their left. They stopped, and the footsteps stopped. They walked on nearly to the clearing, and Jon whispered to his son to run like Hell to the house on the count of three. Jon Jr. nodded, and Jon whispered, “One, two…Three!” and gave his son a push in the back to get him started, then spun around and raced off the trail in the opposite direction, toward the footsteps with his gun drawn.

Off the trail, the underbrush was dense with ferns and bushes; he had a hard time making headway. But as he got closer, he could hear it moving away from him, deeper into the woods. At this time, he told my Dad that he thought it was a vagrant camping out in the woods and possibly scoping houses out to rob at night. Jon was a big man and capable of taking care of himself in most any situation and he had a large caliber handgun so he wasn’t too worried about confronting a vagrant in the woods. He was a few yards off the trail in deep brush when he heard the movement stop just ahead of him. He stopped to look and listen, and thought he saw movement by a large tree, like someone was trying to hide there. He leveled his gun and said “Come out nice and slow, or I swear to God I’ll come back there and shoot you!”

It was silent for a moment, and then he caught movement out the corner of his eye and spun around to his right for a better look. He said it looked like a huge bear moving through the brush, he could only see bits of it through the dense ferns, but it was moving quietly away from the tree on four legs. It was about fifteen feet away from him. At first he thought it was a bear, and then suddenly he saw a huge hairy arm with a human like hand reach out of the brush and grab a small alder tree. The tree was about four inches in diameter, and it grabbed hold about five feet up. He said it happened so fast it was a blur, but the thing pulled itself upright out of the brush by holding the tree. It stood on two legs and turned its upper body to glare at Jon. It was enormous; he couldn’t believe how bulky it was. He said it was well over seven feet tall, and at least half that big through the chest. It was too dark to make out many features, but its eyes seemed to glow a deep red, and he thought he could see teeth, like it was curling its lips back.

It stood for just a brief moment, and then lunged ahead, pushing back on the tree with tremendous force. The tree snapped loudly and crashed into the trees around it, getting hung up in the branches and not falling to the ground. It then disappeared into the deep brush with frightening speed, sounding like a bulldozer with no engine sounds. Jon stood there in shock, his gun temporally forgotten, then he realized it was heading toward the house, the way his son had went. He turned and ran to the trail, hoping to gain ground on it and cut it off before it reached the clearing. He hit the trail and ran as fast as he could toward the clearing, all the while hearing the creature thrash through the brush on his side.

He burst into the clearing and looked franticly about for his son. Jon Jr. was standing just inside of the fenced field, waiting for his Dad. Jon screamed at him to run to the house, then he saw the thing crash out of the woods about fifty feet to his left. It crossed the ten foot clearing and stepped over the fence in two strides, and was running through the field parallel to his son in a matter of seconds. Jon screamed at his son to run faster, and took aim at the creature. He didn’t fire because he was afraid to hit his son or his house, so he vaulted over the fence and ran in pursuit of them. He could see it angling toward his son, and knew there was no way his boy would make it to the gate before it cut him off. In desperation, he pointed the gun to the ground at his side and fired as he ran, hoping to scare it. It veered more sharply toward his son, and put on an enormous burst of speed. He heard his boy scream as they seemed to collide, he saw the creature dip its shoulder down a little bit and suddenly Jon Jr. was airborne, he flew about ten feet then hit the ground rolling.

The creature never paused; it continued to run at an amazing speed in a loop back towards the woods. Once the line of fire was clear, Jon stopped and squeezed off the remaining five rounds at the retreating creature. He was pretty sure all the shots went wild; the creature never made a sound or slowed down, and was soon over the fence and back in the woods. He reached his son, who was shaken up but not physically hurt. He asked his Dad if it was a bear. Apparently, little Jon was so busy running for the house that he didn’t see the creature running after him, he said something big and black suddenly ran into him, and he felt a huge paw hit his bottom and he said he felt like he was falling.

Jon pulled his son to his feet and they ran through the gate and into the house locking the door behind him. They were both out of breath and white as ghosts, his wife was screaming at him, demanding to know what the gunshots were for and if they were all right. When he could catch his breath, he told her to make sure the back door was locked, he was going to call the Sheriff. He went to the phone and began to dial the number; this was before 911, then stopped and wondered what exactly he was going to say. He hung up the phone, realizing what an idiot he would look like if he told the Sheriff the boogie man just chased them out of the woods.

He told his wife that it was a large animal, possibly a bear. He didn’t know how to begin to tell her their four year old was right, his Cowman was real and it was more frightening than anything he could imagine. He told them all to keep the doors locked, and stay away from the windows. Around ten o’clock that night, both boys were in bed and Jon and his wife sat down to watch the news. They soon heard a loud moaning cry, kind of like the siren on the volunteer fire department. It would stretch out for a long time, and then end with a “whoop whoop” sound. It was coming from the woods opposite the house. His wife asked “What the Hell is that?” Jon answered truthfully; “That is Tim’s Cowman.”

He then described to her the full details of what had happened, and she immediately wanted to call the Sheriff. He persuaded her that they would sound crazy, and that he would handle it himself. She reluctantly agreed, and told him she didn’t want either of the kids to go outside until this thing was gone. The howling went on until around midnight, when it got quiet again. Jon wanted to stay up through the night and watch over the house, but he had a long day at work and the excitement earlier had worn him out. They went to bed around one in the morning, and had no further problems that night.

They slept in that morning, and the boys were already up and watching cartoons when they got out of bed. The first thing little Jon said was that he had heard the bear rubbing against the house last night. He said he was too scared to get up and tell his parents, and fell back asleep soon after. Then Tim said “The Cowman talks funny.” This stopped Jon cold. He asked his son “When did you talk to the Cowman?” Tim replied “Last night, in my room.” Jon asked: “The Cowman was in your room?”
“No Daddy, he’s too big for my room, he talked to my window.” Tim said, and turned back to the cartoons. “What did the Cowman say, Tim?” Jon asked. “He talks funny; I don’t know what he said. He talks like this…OOH AHH AHH OOH!” Tim said, and started making strange monkey like noises. “Did the Cowman try to get in your window?” Jon asked, breaking out in a cold sweat. “He’s too big for that. He made funny faces, he has Lincoln Log teeth!” Tim said with a smile.

Jon later learned Tim meant it had square teeth that looked the same size as the small blocks in a Lincoln log set. It apparently spent quite a while “talking” and making faces outside the boy’s window. Tim said it lay down and went to sleep outside, and he could hear it snoring. Jon walked to his younger son’s room, and cautiously peered out the window. No sleeping Cowman. Jon told the boys to get dressed; they were going to go visit their uncle in Elma for the day.

After his wife and kids left, he called one of the men from his crew, and asked him to come over. I’ll call him Patrick, he was an ex-State patrolman and my Dad said he was kicked off the force because of his drinking problem. He was a good worker and never got drunk before dark, so Jon figured they would have most of the day to look for this thing. When Patrick arrived, Jon greeted him at the door and said, “Are you up for some hunting?” Seeing how it was not hunting season, Patrick told him he doesn’t poach, and doesn’t even want to know about it if Jon did. Jon told him it wasn’t deer he was after, and went on to explain the previous night’s events. Patrick didn’t really believe him, but could see he was sincere and still shook up. Jon had his pistol and a bolt action 30.06, Patrick had a .38 in his car and Jon loaned him a 12 gauge. They first circled the house looking for any signs of a nocturnal visitor.

At the back of the house, there was a spigot for the garden hose, and it always leaked. There was a patch of ground worn bare of grass under it, and it had turned to mud. In the center of the mud, there was a huge, clear imprint of what looked like a bare human foot. Jon said it was at least 18 inches long, and very wide. It was so clear that he got the feeling it was left there on purpose. They found no other prints around the house, and in places in the field and woods where a track could be made, the creature seemed to avoid them. Off to the side of the track in the mud were four straight lines about eight inches long. He said it looked like someone had raked their fingers through the mud. When they circled around the side of the house and got to Tim’s window, they saw what it was for.

Above the top of the window, a good seven feet up, were four muddy streaks. And on the window itself were dozens of large, muddy fingerprints. The glass wasn’t cracked or broken, just smeared with mud. By this time Patrick was fast becoming convinced something strange had indeed happened the night before.

Before going out into the woods, Jon wanted to feed the families pigs. They had two of them apparently fairly young weighing around 40 pounds each. The pig pen was about a hundred yards away from the house, behind an old barn. As they got closer Jon became concerned because they couldn’t hear them making any noise. Usually they squealed like crazy when they knew food was near at hand, but this morning it was completely silent. They rounded the corner and the pen was empty. No sign of damage or struggle, the pigs were just gone. They searched the barn but found nothing out of place, so they decided to hit the woods and try to kill this thing.

They entered on the same trail Jon and Jon had used the day before, Jon showed Patrick the broken fence wire and told him again about the hair. It was a bright summer morning, and Jon was surprised at the difference from the previous evening. The night before had been still and silent, now the woods were alive with birds and small animals. He showed Patrick the broken tree, and they followed the creatures’ trial and found several more trees and large branches twisted and broken. They could see large, faint impressions of footprints where the ground was soft. They followed the deer trail further into the woods, and encountered nothing unusual. By noon they were both getting hungry, so they hiked back to the house for lunch. They spent the rest of the day poking around, but saw nothing more out of the ordinary.

Just before dark that night, his wife and kids drove up. He and Patrick were sitting on the porch with the guns, watching the woods. His wife asked if they had seen anything, Jon told her about the footprint and mud on the window. Patrick had retrieved a pint of booze from his car and was well on his way to getting smashed. Jon decided he didn’t want a frightened drunk with a gun around his family, so he suggested that Patrick could go home, nothing was going to happen anyway. Patrick agreed and drove off, and Jon continued to watch the woods. His wife brought out a plate of food and a Coleman lantern and a flashlight. He told her would stay out here and watch the house through the night. Before they went to bed, he went into their bedroom, and with help from his wife, pushed the king sized bed as far from the windows as they could. They agreed that his wife and kids would all sleep in that bed for the night, and he would keep watch around the house. She had grown up hunting and knew how to handle a gun as good as him, so she insisted on keeping the shotgun in the room with them. He agreed after making her promise to ask for a name before shooting anything. If it replied “Jon”, please don’t shoot it.

There was a full moon that night, and Jon could see across the field and into the inky dark of the woods. The night air was filled with the sound of thousands of crickets, and the pond behind the house was full of croaking frogs. As the moon rose higher, clumps of weeds in the field began casting sinister shadows, and before long Jon was seeing big hairy creatures sneaking up on him in each of them. He stood up and lit a cigarette, trying to shake the fear and concentrate on the task at hand. As he smoked, he wandered to the end of the porch, and stood looking at the darkened barn. Something was different, but he couldn’t quite place it. The front of the barn facing the house was open, and the moonlight was hitting it from the side, casting the interior in deep shadows. He stood watching the black opening as he finished his smoke, thinking about the missing pigs. He then realized what was wrong. All the crickets and frogs had gone silent. It was as quiet as the inside of a mausoleum at night; he could hear the minute shrill buzz of his own nervous system. As he turned to walk back to his chair, he thought he saw movement in the barn. He looked intently at the opening and could make out nothing, then turned his head a bit to the side and saw what looked like two red eyes hovering about eight feet off the ground. He couldn’t see them if he looked straight at them, but when he averted his eyes a little, they became clearer. They were a deep burning coal red, almost invisible in the dark. Every few seconds they would disappear when the creature blinked.

His heart began thudding in his chest, and he waited for it to leave the barn and approach the house. He slowly backed up to his chair, never looking away, and picked up his 30.06. He walked back to the end of the porch and watched and waited. He stood looking at the blinking red eyes for what seemed like hours, and then the eyes blinked out and never came back. He watched intently but could see no movement. He thought for a moment, then grabbed the flashlight and shined it at the barn. The flashlight was too small to penetrate the darkness of the barn from this distance, he had to get closer. He was none too keen about leaving the relative safety of the porch and confronting a glowing eyed monster in his barn, but he was damned if he was going to live in fear in his own house.

He left the porch and began slowly working his way toward the barn, taking his time, building his courage up. He got closer and could still see no movement; it had gone further into the dark. He got within 20 feet of the opening, and his flashlight would now penetrate the gloom in the barn. He moved the feeble beam of light over the contents of the barn, an old tractor, and old pickup, boxes and buckets. Too many places for something to hide, even something big. He cautiously walked closer, now shining the flashlight down the barrel of his rifle. He stopped at the entrance and shined the light all over, searching the corners and under the vehicles. He stepped into the barn, every sense straining for sound or movement. He walked around the pickup, tensing for a huge, hairy arm to reach out and grab him at any second. He made his way clear to the rear of the barn without seeing anything, and slowly turned around to leave. He felt both relieved not to have encountered it in the dark barn, and frightened and somewhat confused about where it could have gone.

As he was walking out he glanced at the wide stairs leading up into the hayloft and froze. He knew with complete certainty that it had climbed those stairs and was waiting for him to walk out under the hayloft and jump down upon him. He couldn’t move, he was literally frozen in fear. He swore he could here the floorboards softly creak above him as an enormous weight edged stealthily closer to the edge. He stood with his heart pounding in his ears, unable to move or act. Suddenly there was the booming explosion of a shotgun from the house, followed by his wife screaming. His paralysis broke and he bolted out of the barn toward the house, completely forgetting what may have been in the hayloft.

As he ran toward the house, he heard an inhuman roar coming from the woods behind the house. It sounded pissed off and in pain. It screamed again and he heard branches breaking as it plowed through the forest, thankfully away from the house. He got to the house and almost knocked down the front door in his hurry to get inside.

He ran down the hall to their room and found his family huddled together on the bed, sobbing. One of the widows was blown out, and his wife was still pointing the shotgun at it. When he burst into the room she swung the gun in his direction and screamed, and he hit the floor. He waited for the blast but it didn’t come. He slowly stood up and she had put the gun down and he went to the bed. He asked her what had happened, but she was too shook up to answer just then. Tim started crying: “Why did you shoot the Cowman Mommy, why?” Jon Jr. Had his face buried against her shoulder crying. After they calmed down a bit, he told them to get up and follow him. He led them to the living room, then went out the open front door and looked carefully around. He could see no sign of it, all was quiet again. He told them to come out and get in the car. They ran out in their pajamas and piled in the car; he got in and drove them to his brother’s house in Elma.

On the way there, they had calmed down enough to tell him what happened. She said a couple hours after they went to bed, she finally dozed off. She was awakened by Tim talking to someone, and this bizarre clicking chirping sound. Tim wasn’t in the bed; he was standing in front of one of the windows. The moonlight was shining through both windows illuminating the room pretty good, but there was a large shadow, like a tree obscuring the window in front of Tim. She knew there were no trees close enough to cast a shadow, she told to get away from the window. “Mommy, listen! The Cowman can sound like a bird!” Tim said pointing excitedly at the dark figure in the window. “Timmy, get away from the window.” She said, trying to keep her voice quiet. Right after she spoke, the noises from outside changed, it went from a soft chirping, to a strange gibbering, almost like human speech with an occasional pig-like snort thrown in.

At this time, little Jon woke up and said “What is that?” rather loudly. This seemed to incite the creature and it hit the side of the house with its fists hard enough for the walls to tremble. At this, Little Jon screamed and Tim yelled “Quiet, you’re going to scare him away!” She yelled at Tim to get away from the window again, and reached up on the headboard and grabbed the shotgun. She got out of the bed and started toward Tim; the creature leaned down and looked straight in the window at her. She screamed and raised the shotgun, afraid to shoot because her son was so close to it. She started foreword to grab Tim, and there was an explosion of breaking glass, and a gigantic hairy arm reached through the window toward her son. She screamed again and fired over Tim’s head, blowing out the rest of the window and hitting the creature with .00 buckshot. It jerked backwards out of the window and disappeared into the dark. A few seconds later she heard it screaming in the woods. “It was trying to get Tim, it was trying to grab my baby!” she started crying again and he comforted her as best he could while driving.

They stayed the rest of that night and the following night with his brother’s family. He told his brother about it, but could see he didn’t really believe him. He agreed to ride back to Jon’s house with him early Monday morning before work. They had left the front door open in their haste to leave, and he was afraid animals or vandals would have got into the house. When they arrived, the house looked like a tornado had gone through it. The couch was upside down. They had a large, heavy console TV and it was apparently thrown across the room, lying in a spray of broken glass. The kitchen was trashed, the refrigerator knocked over and food everywhere. The doors to both of the boy’s rooms were left closed, and the rooms were untouched, same as the bathroom. The master bedroom was torn apart, the pillows ripped up and feathers everywhere. The chest of drawers was knocked over and the large mirror smashed. Jon’s brother looked around in awe, and said “You better call the police!” Jon looked at him and said “And tell them what? Bigfoot destroyed my house?”

They left and closed the front door this time, and drove to my Dad’s mill in Aberdeen. Jon’s brother waited in the car while Jon went in and told this to my Dad. After he was done, my Dad said, “Well, let’s go have a look at it then.” They drove back out to the house, and Jon showed my Dad the damage. He pulled the clump of hair from his shirt pocket and let my Dad look at it. As they were walking through the house surveying the damage, my Dad pointed out cracks in the ceiling where it had apparently stood up and hit its head. Jon told my Dad that they couldn’t live there anymore, even if the creature was gone, they would always be afraid. Their homeowners insurance wouldn’t cover the damage; the adjuster claimed Jon must have done it in a drunken rage. My Dad helped them find a place in Aberdeen, and gave him a loan for new furniture and stuff. The house was eventually fixed up and sold, and my Dad never heard about another problem there.

A few observations about this story; My Dad lost contact with “Jon” and his family in the mid eighties. They moved out of state and my Dad hasn’t heard from them since. His brother died around the same time. Why didn’t they call the cops? Jon had a lot of pride as well as a lot of common sense. He knew he couldn’t logically explain what had happened to the authorities, and he didn’t want the story to get out and have him branded a nutcase. I asked my Dad if they saved the hair, he said Jon never mentioned it again and my Dad never asked him about it. I asked my Dad if he saw the footprint and muddy fingerprints, he said he did. He said it looked like a giant barefoot man had stepped very carefully in the center of the mud. He’s not a tracker, but he said it was the clearest print of any kind he had ever seen. I asked my Dad if the neighbors had heard any of this. He said if they did, none of them ever mentioned it again. I also asked him if he thought it was possible Jon had made it all up. That he HAD trashed his house in a drunken rage, and made up this elaborate cover story. My Dad said Jon and his family were terrified of that place; they didn’t even want to go back and get their clothes. If was just an elaborate story, what did he stand to gain? To profit from a story in any way, you have to share it with people. My Dad and the other folks mentioned in the story are the only ones who ever heard it. Until now, of course. He also said that whatever trashed that house was no man. The TV had to have weighed close to 200 pounds, and it was obviously thrown across the room with great force. He said that even after two days, there was still a wild animal smell in the house.

I asked him if thought there may have been two creatures involved, considering the incident in the barn. He said he asked Jon that same question, and was told that Jon felt there was only one, that it lured him into the barn then snuck out the side door to the house. The thing he thought he heard in the hayloft was either his imagination, or some common animal like a raccoon.

For whatever reason, this critter seemed focused on their four year old son. Their son was the only one who never showed any fear of it.

scariest mother fuckin shit ive ever read.

1 more, though  not really proof of sasquatch related, I don't really believe a lot of this, maybe 4 people really were killed there though by an animal, but it's a good scary story

The Beast of LBL    

There is a  national recreation area  in Western Kentucky (that also runs down to Tennessee) called 'Land Between the Lakes', or LBL for short.  It is situated between the Kentucky and Barklay  Lakes, consisting of more then 300 miles of shoreline, 170,000 acres of forest and over 200 miles of walking trails. It is currently a focal point for over $600 million in the tourism industry.  Prior to 1959, before the Kentucky and Lake Barklay Dams were constructed, and before it was officially called LBL (in 1963 by President John F. Kennedy), and before TVA (Tennessee Valley Authority, the federal government used it's powers of eminent domain to buy and tear down all the houses, businesses and community buildings thru out the entire area, forcing over 700 families to give up their homes.) took over the land,  the area was called 'Between the Rivers'.  

There are over 228 small family cemeteries, many forgotten about and lost, dotted thru out the acres of forests as it was once used as homes to early Kentucky settlers.  Some of the earliest graves date back to the early 1700's, which include graves of white settlers, veterans from nearly every war, including the Revolutionary War, and also those of black slaves and Chinese immigrants who worked in the iron furnaces that were in the area.  There was also a very high infant mortality rate and many of these children were buried right outside the cabins from where they were born so that their mother could peer out the window and see the grave.  There are also numerous Native American graves scattered thru out the acres, much older then even the earliest of settler graves, some discovered, others lay in secret beneath the layers of leaves and forest ferns.  

Back before the 1950's it always had been a very rural area to live in, with farmsteads far and few between, and with no real town to speak of except up at the north end in Grand Rivers.  It was in this town, back in the mid 70's that I first heard of 'The Beast Between the Rivers' or known now as 'The Beast of LBL'. Some old timers would sit on this long wooden bench outside the old IGA store, that use to be the old 'country store' for decades before the grocery conglomerate came to town.  I used to hang around there on the weekends during the day and listen to the stories they each would tell.  These old men, most of whom used to live in LBL before they were forced to move, had some very interesting stories to tell about that part of the country.  

There was talk of hauntings, Indian curses, mysterious lights over gravestones at night, old hag witches that lived deep in the woods, and more importantly, several tales of a wolf like creature that stood on two legs that would come out of the thickets and attack their cattle and live stock.  Day or night.  A creature that was taller then an average man by well over a foot, nearly 7 foot tall, with thick long hair covering it's body, and a stench that matched that of some of the freshly open graves that were discovered now and then.  This 'wolf man' left tracks like a barefoot man but where the toes should have been, instead  were paw prints.  The head was huge and wolf like in appearance, with an extra long snout, and uncanny long sharp incisors that glistened from the moon light with saliva, along with eyes that, "Radiated red,  like one of the hottest fires in Hell', they'd say.  It had long arms that ended with huge hands and long spindly fingers with long, pointed, dirt caked claws. At night they would hear it howl; un-natural guttural sounds of painful hungry agony, and at that warning, all would go out and tie up their livestock and even bring their most prized selections inside their homes with them.  

The legend of the beast went back at least a hundred years, and was passed along through time from family to family and updated as new sightings occurred.  One old man said that his great great grand pappy told him that the creature use to be a man, a Native American that had the ability to shape shift, a powerful shaman that had been outcast from his tribe because he used his magic for evil.  The Shaman had been tracked and killed while in his wolf state by a few warriors and a couple of settlers in the area.  In his dying breath he cursed them and vowed to return from the dead to haunt the forests and seek revenge on their families and all who lived there.  Another man on the bench with a leathery, weathered face,  said he heard from his grandma that the beast was once a settler that came over from Europe back in the early 1800's, with a disease that made him turn into a mad man at night.  The disease was eventually passed along to his children, which never went to school, but stayed hidden away from the population.  Many thought the family had died off because for years they never seen or heard from them and after investigations by some brave men they discovered the homestead vacant and abandoned in the early 1900's.  

The sightings of the monster where still frequent thru out the beginning of the twentieth century, and the elderly group on the bench each told some unsettling encounters they or members of their own families had had with it.  Each one told stories of finding livestock slaughtered, ripped to pieces and ate upon.  Cows and pigs with their legs dismembered from the sockets.  Even a few horses had met their end with savage attacks upon their bodies.  A few of them described what they saw at different times when they caught glimpses of  the figure by  peeking out of the curtains of the windows into the night.  One man said it jumped out of one of the horse stalls one evening while he was putting up some animals. It stopped in front of him, arms spread out like it was getting ready to grab him, let out a howl and then sprang past him and into the dusky shadows of  the  sunset.  This particular man said he 'wet his overalls' during the episode.  Another man said he never seen it, but would always hear it's baleful wails frequently at night, not like a regular wolf or a coyote, "No," he said, "It was more deeper, longer, stronger sounding then what would come out of any animal I ever heard."  Another old timer said his wife had seen it trying to get into the chicken coup but gave up after getting tangled in the chicken wire.  They all had tales of 'someone's hound dog' getting killed, ripped apart limb from limb, 'someone's pig or cow or chicken' getting eaten, the mysterious footprints left in the mud, and the stench it left behind where ever it appeared.  And more then one had the same story of listening to it walk across their front porches at night and scratching on the doors and walls which would leave deep gouges in the wood they would find in the morning.  All of them agreed that this was not a Bigfoot or Sasquatch.  It would be only another year or two after hearing about this mysterious beast that I myself would encounter it at the home of a family member that lived in the same area.

But this isn't the story I was wanting to tell you.  This was just a brief introduction to the unwritten accounts of the darker side of LBL.  A prelude actually to the real story I will begin to unfold.  I just wanted to lay some ground work so you could get the big picture, and form some of your own opinions and theories.  Walk with me now as I take you back about twenty two years, back to the early 1980's.  Where I use to work midnights at a gas station a few miles from the Kentucky Dam, which was a few miles from the beginning of LBL in Grand Rivers.   And it was on one of these midnight shifts I had two visitors that would change my outlook on the subject of 'werewolves'. (... and make me believe in what I had seen myself a few years back in the same area but had kept it between myself and  two other family members that were with me at the time....but that's another story to be written.)  This story was never in the paper, on the news, or had any media  attention at all.  It was kept hush hush, and a sacred silence was demanded on all those involved.  It couldn't get out, ever.  It was a few weeks before the beginning of tourist season, and tourists were what the locals survived on, they were the 'bread and butter'.   A story like this would be like screaming 'Sharks!' at Daytona Beach, or 'Child Molester!' at Disneyland.   The people would stop coming out of fear.  

I wasn't a witness to the fact, just a third person, making observations and having conversations with two individuals who were a part of the incident, who were involved in the whole ordeal.  They had just came from the crime scene down in the middle of LBL after being there for over 8 hours.  It was around three in the morning and they were taking a much needed reality break.

Two officers of the law.  Two grown men who both appeared shaken beyond description.  A mixture of fear and confusion, shock and disbelief emanated from them both.  One was paler then the other, a deathly pallor over his skin, and it was this one (I'll name him officer Adam, to protect their identities) that had to sit on the curb of the gas pumps, head between his legs and expel the last bit of his stomach contents.  The other officer (I'll name him officer Bill) came in for some coffee for himself and a cup of water for his partner, then rejoined Adam outside.  There were no other customers so I went outside with them to see if I could offer some assistance with the ill man.  He gladly took the few Rolaids I had extended in my hand, with his own shaky fingers he struggled to get them into his mouth.  

For quite a long while the only thing that was heard were the crickets in the near by fields, the sounds of bugs hitting the fluorescent lights above us hanging from the gas station canopy, and the  distant sound of highway traffic that was far and few between as it was in the wee hours of the morning.  My mind was buzzing with various scenarios of the cause of their distress....a tragic car accident....possibly a motorcycle wreck...a boating mishap with drown victims....a murder.....a dead body discovered. ('Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back...that's why the cat has nine lives.')  

I don't remember sitting down but after about 15 minutes of this hushed stillness I found myself beside them both on the curb staring out at the darkness of the nearby corn pastures, letting my mind paint pictures of imaginary traumas.  Adam spoke first, breaking the silence of obscurity, "I can't believe it...it's not possible...I just can't believe it...".  In a hushed agreement, that was almost inaudible, Bill replied, "I know...it was....is....it is so unbelievable...I've never seen anything like this before...", a long pause, a deep breath, and he continued, "... or even  heard of anything like this before."   I looked at Bill and then at Adam, they were both gazing, open eyed, unblinking, out into the inky color of the night.  Adam's bottom lip was trembling slightly, and it wasn't from the slight chill in the late spring air.  Something, or some thing had filled them each with a congested fear.  

After a few more moments of silent reserve, my patience was rewarded with some slow,  fragmented descriptions of their past 8 hours.  Bill turned his wide azure blue eyes towards me, they were glazed and blood shot, tired, frightened eyes.  With a weary, shaken voice he began to unfold a tale that would forever be embedded within my spirit, like a nasty shadow that lingers around a corner waiting to pounce, to awaken your inner fears once again.  Why he decided to tell me of all people was beyond my comprehension, maybe it was an avenue he felt safe to travel upon, to get it off his chest, off his mind.  They were both frequent customers and we knew each other on first name basis, but to divulge such a torrid account of great magnitude, well, I can only say that the fear inside them both at that moment in time had to be released, eased, and extracted from their souls, or else they may have gone mad with unbalanced thoughts.  Without interrupting, I sat entranced, listening to every word, absorbing them like an opiate, a spellbinding narcotic that hypnotized me into forgetting the world even existed for the next half hour or so.    

They had gotten a call to help with an investigation at one of the many rural camp grounds down in LBL.  The tourist season was about to start in a few weeks, so as usual there were some early arrivals that had come to claim prime camping spots before the areas were over run with tents, campers and travel trailers  The sun was setting low in the sky when they arrived at the scene.  Several other official vehicles were already there and there were many more to come as they would soon find out.  Many coming from other counties, and a few coming all the way from another state.  Several of these to come were coroners  from different counties.  One coroner vehicle was already present as well as an ambulance, which would prove useless, as there was no one to save.  The victims were all dead.  Quite dead.  Completely, totally and thoroughly deceased.  A young married couple that had come down to take it easy for a few days, were the first to discover the ghastly scene.  Neither one of them wanted to stay behind while the other went for help, so they both nervously traveled to the nearest town, Grand Rivers, and called the authorities.  They did not return to LBL, they merely gave the arriving officer directions to the area of discovery and rented a local hotel room.  

With the sun going down, it got dark pretty fast, so there was a flurry of flood lights from the cruisers being pointed in all directions, along with the excited movements of fifty dollar flash lights being held by nervous, restless hands, searching the trees, the ground, the leaves, the shadows.  There was a parked motor home at the site, it's frame being lit by a campfire close by, a fire that had almost went out on it's own, but had been rekindled by the new crowd of men in uniforms so that they could have more light.  The front and back doors to the home were open, one of the doors hanging by one hinge in a crooked slant.  Through the windows they could see zig zagged movements of luminosity as the beams from flashlights searched the interior.  Bloody hand prints slid down the thin metal walls close to the front door and more bloody hand paintings could be seen along the length towards the back door. Their images dancing eerily in the fire light like some ancient tribal symbols .  

Adam and Bill did not even want to imagine what was inside the motor home, but then again, they would soon find out, that it wasn't what was 'inside' but what was 'outside' that would change their lives forever.  There was already crime scene tape placed in numerous, scattered parts of the area, and little white flags on metal stakes stuck into the ground marking evidence.  Evidence of ripped clothing, bodies and body parts, separated limbs, a pile of bowels, pieces of loose flesh clinging to muscle tissue.  What use to be three bodies, that just hours before had been a happy family, on a happy vacation, to create happy memories for years to come; a father, a mother and a young son.  

The happiness was gone.  Destroyed by a psychotic mad man, or was it 'men'?  A murderous rage had taken place, one so abhorrently appalling that there were few witnesses to the scene that had kept their composure or held their recently eaten dinners down.  At first sight, the victims appeared  to be butchered by some un-nameable weapon, possibly an axe, or a chainsaw.  Upon further inspection, by the first arriving coroner, the wounds on the bodies were determined not to have been caused by a sharp instrument, but rather by some piercing, well-defined claws, and other wounds by some keen, mordantly long incisors.  

Wildcat, bear, wolves?  The coroner shook his head in a baffled disagreement with each guess from the officers.  The claw marks, for instance, on the back of the fathers corpse were distinctively made by 4 long claws with a smaller digit, like a thumb, on the side, it's span was wider then a man's print, wider and different  then a bears mark, with deep deliberate gouges in the flesh.  Rake marks from an angry unknown source trying to grab it's prey that was no doubt trying to escape.  The wildcat and wolves theory was dismissed as the open wound marks were apparently made by a more grandiose animal source.  The bite marks were much larger then any mountain lion, wolf or coyote.  Whatever did it had a longer snout, and more sizable teeth.  There was also indications in the larger areas of the cadavers, of bite marks where the flesh, meat and bone had been yanked away from the body.  Like a human who bites into an apple and leaves the impressions of his bite and teeth marks, so were the open wounds on these individuals.  Bears, well, they aren't native to the area, but who knows, maybe a grizzly did sneak in some way, but that was far fetched, he would have had to travel several states and cross several rivers to even get close to that part of Kentucky.  Every one present was betting on the 'bear' hypothesis anyway, and no one even thought of anything else to be the cause of such a savage attack.  A bear, it had to be a bear.

From the back door of the motor home, an officer stepped down slowly, holding in his hands some type of garment.  A dress.  A small dress, that would have fit a small girl of around five years old.  He informed the on lookers that there were more 'little girls' clothing packed inside the coach.  This meant there was a missing person, or an absent body;a member of the family.  They all prayed she was still alive somehow, hiding somewhere.  A new search began.

As time went by, additional law enforcement employees arrived, as well as a few volunteer rescue squad members.  Groups were spread out and assigned areas to examine and explore.  Another coroner arrived to assist in the identification and causes of death, and much later a third one showed up, this one from a near by state.  All types of samples were placed in plastic bags, marked as evidence, and carefully stowed away.  As they were packaging up what appeared to be one of the fathers arms, one of the doctors noticed  something wrapped between the dead fingers.  Some tweezers slowly untangled a clump of long, grey and brown hairs.  This too was placed in a bag, marked and put away to be analyzed at a lab later.    

From somewhere in the nearby woods, about 50 yards from the campfire, a scream was heard.  A mans shriek that turned into a long wail and then to whimpering.  As others arrived they could see by the gleam of several flashlights that the cop was holding his hat in one hand and his light in the other.  There was blood on his face,  the front of his shirt and on the brim of his hat.  More blood could be seen dripping on him.  It was coming from above.  High in the trees the flash lights swung, searching for the source of the mysterious bleeding.  A very small hand could be seen dangling down from a tree limb way up high, as well as a slender lifeless leg that still had a white sock still on the foot.  The missing child had been located.  It had been Adam that the blood had trickled upon, hitting his hat first, making him look up, and then feeling the thick cold fluid sprinkling his face then sliding down to his neatly buttoned shirt.  It had been Adam that had screamed. The little girl had apparently been carried up the tree and leisurely eaten upon while carefully laid across a large tree branch.  More of the same long gray and brown hair was found sticking in the bark of the tree near her body.

 After about 7 hours most of the officers were sent away as a new team of investigators arrived.  They were told not to talk to anyone of the incident, especially not the media.  I am sure that besides Adam and Bill, there were others who had to confess what they saw that night, if in fact this whole event ever really happened.  Witness's that had to divulge the awful secret of that atrocious discovery at one of the campgrounds at LBL.  About a month after sitting outside with Adam and Bill that night, they stopped in again during one of my midnight shifts.  They were both rather quite, more serious in nature, not like before the incident where they would kid around while drinking their sodas and eating a snack or two.  They had both aged in some odd way.  Streaks of gray, that had not been there before, highlighted both of their heads of hair.  Their faces had lines of worry and showed signs of stress.  I would see them again many times after wards, but on this particular evening, they informed me that they got word about some of the lab tests that were taken that dreadful night.  The tests, on the saliva taken from the bite marks, and from the hair found on the mans fingers and in the tree bark, came back with an unknown species origin.  The closest animal that they could be compared to was that of a Canis Lupis, a wolf.

Whether Adam and Bill had played an elaborate hoax on me I'll never really know for sure but their sincerity and fear painted a picture of truth in their eyes and actions. There are several more stories that I have heard about this 'Werewolf' over in LBL that have been told to me over the years after this particular incident.  There were several groups of boy scouts that had seen it.  Several more campers, fishermen and boaters that had seen it from the safety of of their boats, floating in some of the many bays that touched upon the shoreline. Hikers and  bikers have heard its howling and have seen 'something' stalking them while they were on rural trails, hiding amongst the trees and foliage. Hunters have run across deer carcasses that had been brutally torn apart.  

There was even a pair of curious grave stone rubbers, (those that go out in search of century or more old tombstones then make rubbings by placing paper against the coarse stones and using a piece of charcoal to rub across it thus capturing the images and dates from the stones unto the paper....similar to when as a child you use to take a pencil and rub across a piece of paper on a penny or other coin to see the image of Lincoln or Jefferson.) that had a fearful encounter with it at one of the old cemeteries.  It had actually came up to the car as they were leaving and shook the back end of the vehicle up and down and left terrible scratch marks in the trunk lid as it tried to hold on to the little Toyota while the tires were spinning in the wet grass  to get away.  These two individuals didn't stop driving until they were about 40 miles away, only then did they dare stop to investigate the damage done.  I myself have seen those scratches.  Much too wide for any man to have made them.  They looked like a heavy metal garden rakes tracks.  

But you will never read about it in the papers, or hear about it on the news, or get a confession from any law enforcement official or man of office.  The media will say it's a bunch of 'Whoo Haa', or just pranks, silly stories, urban legends, lies, tall tales and such.  This is tourism country and that means millions of dollars to the area, so you can't scare off business, can you?

But, as San says on her website, 'You can't tell me there's no such thing!', because I have my own tale to tell about this creature.  That story will come soon, I promise, but this one had to be told first for it is far more scarier and full of detail than my own.  And that bench, the long, sturdy, heavy oak bench, that sat in front of the old country store for decades?  It is still in existence.  In fact, I had the grand opportunity of acquiring it several years ago when an even newer version of an IGA store was being built upon the same grounds.  The previous owners remembered my fondness for sitting with the old timers and having undying patience with their many stories and got a hold of one of my family members to ask if we would like to have it to keep in the family.   The bench now sits in my front yard, by the driveway, where I sit to wave goodbye to all those who had come to visit for the day.  I've learned to always wave goodbye, because you never know if you'll see them again.  You never know what lies in store for you or them.  What lies in the shadows.  Waiting.  Watching.  With hungry eyes and a drooling snout.

If you guys studied ALL of your folk lore, you would see MANY similarities between Bigfoot "encounters" and other strange occurrances throughout history.

Note the "red eyes" yet again.  How many of us have "lit" up animals at night with headlights, flashlights, NODs or spotlights.  I, personallym have never seen any other colors than green, yellow or light orange.  Note that "Bigfoot" and other strange things have a RED glow and it is often NOT caused by eyes picking up ambient light.  Guys from this forum have lit up those red glwoing eyes with NODs and flashlights and in every case.....THEY DISAPPEAR.  Do cougars disappear when you light them up?  Cats? Dogs? Owls?  No.  The may fly instead of fight, but they don't just vanish into thin air.

Note also, in MANY cases how, when "angered" such creatures tend to steal livestock, thorw rocks, bang on houses or trees, mess around in barns or sheds.  It's almost Halloween, you know, where do you think the whole "trick or treat" custom came from?  In many places, house spirits, or boggarts ( bogies, bogie-men, boogeymen, etc ) were thought to be hairy and smelly with GLOWING RED EYES.  They also tend to be fond of drunks, fools or children, tending to often actually protect them or watch over them, despite their fearsome nature to adults.  Too, they have been known to take them.  It was custom, during the most active times of these creatures, to leave gifts of milk, butter and fresh baked bread to appease these "spirits" as they moved through the night.  To leave them gifts was often to "pay them off" and they would leave to other places, usually.  I have heard of slightly different variations of the theme.  All in all, gifts, politeness and respect are well thought of, regardless of the outcome.

Another thing to bring up.....when I was about five years old, I ran across a cougar in northern Minnesota.  It had been treed by some ten year old boys with sticks and rocks. It was NOT A HAPPY CAT!  It was EXTREMELY disconcerting to run into a cat larger than me that wasn't in a cage and I took off for my life!  Yet, as scared as I was...it was a "normal" sort of fear.....like the last time I ran into bear cubs.  Okay, bad situation.....off I go from whence I came.  Not that big of deal....scary.....but not WET YOUR PANTS SCARY.  In many cases of paranormal contact, people are scared BEYOND what we usually think of as the normal limits of fear.  I have been terrified to this point more than once and in each case the agency of that terror was anything by normal.  When the Prophet Daniel was confronted by an Angel he was left "sick for many days" , they fear and power of the experience was so strong.  Note that the people in these stories often report an AMAZINGLY PROFOUND SENSE OF TERROR.


Yet again, I must try to convince some of you.....whatever Bigfoot is, it is NOT a physical agency as WE think of it.  Yes, it can leave tracks, and signs.....but they are AMBIGUOUS AT BEST.  They always will be.

Quoted: Yet again, I must try to convince some of you.....whatever Bigfoot is, it is NOT a physical agency as WE think of it.  Yes, it can leave tracks, and signs.....but they are AMBIGUOUS AT BEST.  They always will be.

Just read 'The Mothman Prophecies'?

Quoted: Quoted: Yet again, I must try to convince some of you.....whatever Bigfoot is, it is NOT a physical agency as WE think of it.  Yes, it can leave tracks, and signs.....but they are AMBIGUOUS AT BEST.  They always will be. Just read 'The Mothman Prophecies'?

LOL....I remember when that book was REALLLY hard to find.  The original stories are really strange.  Which reminds me of another point.....there is always something EXTRA strange about such stories...beyond the immediate wierdness.  Oten stories are edited to leave out some things that occur that are completely nonsensical....yet happened nonetheless.

anyone have a link to the vid of bigfoot?

nevermind my google fu isn't as bad as i thought.

Quoted: anyone have a link to the vid of bigfoot? nevermind my google fu isn't as bad as i thought.

lol



patterson-gimlin footage, frame by frame

ETA: I STILL think it's a hoax.....

Quoted: Quoted: anyone have a link to the vid of bigfoot? nevermind my google fu isn't as bad as i thought. lol patterson-gimlin footage, frame by frame ETA: I STILL think it's a hoax.....

"enhanced frame by frame"

Quoted: Quoted: anyone have a link to the vid of bigfoot? nevermind my google fu isn't as bad as i thought. lol patterson-gimlin footage, frame by frame ETA: I STILL think it's a hoax.....

sweet, the version that makes the bigfoot steady and the frames move up and down
I saw that on tv once and could never find it online

Quoted: It sounds like Ms. Bigfoot was out looking to get lucky that night. For the sake of argument, let's just assume that BF is real. I'll bet that if he had not fired, he would have been curled up in the fetal position at sunrise after being forced to fornicate with Ms. Bigfoot. A story that would go with me to my grave had I been in that position.

Unless your nickname was ronmann

bigfoot, schmigfoot.

UFOs, BuFos.

Listen , the "coverage" of the world by video and still picture-taking equipment has increased by a factor of 10,000 to 1,000,000 in the last 25 years.  Do you even know anyone without a digital camera, or a cell phone that takes pictures?  Do you know of ANY teeanagers who don't have camera phones, or even video camera phones?

And yet WHERE is the FLOOD of bigfoot pictures?  Where is the flood of UFO videos, not just cheesy frisbees on strings?  Where is the flood of Loch Ness Monster pictures?

This was always crap, and the fact that there still is not good footage despite the explosion of casual recording devices indicates its crap now too.

Quoted: Quoted: Quoted: anyone have a link to the vid of bigfoot? nevermind my google fu isn't as bad as i thought. lol patterson-gimlin footage, frame by frame ETA: I STILL think it's a hoax..... "enhanced frame by frame"

great enhancement!   I think I can see the tag on the suit.

C'mon guys, I already got a thread for this sort of stuff and it can't be allowed to die since it's achieved legendary status.

Quoted: LOL....I remember when that book was REALLLY hard to find...

Pre-Amazon.com?

Fun book, but it's out there...

Quoted: Yet again, I must try to convince some of you.....whatever Bigfoot is, it is NOT a physical agency as WE think of it. Yes, it can leave tracks, and signs.....but they are AMBIGUOUS AT BEST. They always will be.

I'm not so sure about this one. You're putting them up there with demons, and I don't think that's right because a demon wouldn't protect anything, especially the drunk or weak. And why run around as a furry beast? Doesn't make sense. I think they're just animals, and that they can be killed. Just no one has been armed properly or had the right mindset when they were around.

Also, opossums have red eye shine.

Quoted: bigfoot, schmigfoot. UFOs, BuFos. Listen , the "coverage" of the world by video and still picture-taking equipment has increased by a factor of 10,000 to 1,000,000 in the last 25 years.  Do you even know anyone without a digital camera, or a cell phone that takes pictures?  Do you know of ANY teeanagers who don't have camera phones, or even video camera phones? And yet WHERE is the FLOOD of bigfoot pictures?  Where is the flood of UFO videos, not just cheesy frisbees on strings?  Where is the flood of Loch Ness Monster pictures? This was always crap, and the fact that there still is not good footage despite the explosion of casual recording devices indicates its crap now too.

I can count the number of times I took a camera with me on hunting trips on one hand. And every time, I left the camera in the cabin/tent unless I was specifically going to photograph something.

Everytime I hear a bigfoot story I think of Honest John on the Beverly Hillbillies.


IOW.....

Just spent the last 15 mins trying to find (remember) this guy's name by searching a bunch of Bigfoot links: John Mionczynski

I saw part of a show yesterday - he's involved with an organization backed with funds from some scientific folks to find Bigfoot.

Can't remember the name of his group or who is backing him. And I'm too tired to search further - maybe tomorrow...

But his story (BF encounter) sure sounded interesting - plus he's well respected.

Quoted: Quoted: Yet again, I must try to convince some of you.....whatever Bigfoot is, it is NOT a physical agency as WE think of it. Yes, it can leave tracks, and signs.....but they are AMBIGUOUS AT BEST. They always will be. I'm not so sure about this one. You're putting them up there with demons, and I don't think that's right because a demon wouldn't protect anything, especially the drunk or weak. And why run around as a furry beast? Doesn't make sense. I think they're just animals, and that they can be killed. Just no one has been armed properly or had the right mindset when they were around. Also, opossums have red eye shine.

Well, they ARE opossums....evil little critters no matter how you look at it.


Yes, I do equate Bigfoot with the same agency as demons.  In fact, I believe Bigfoot ARE demons.  HOWEVER, I am looking past the modern Judeo Christian use of the term and harkening back the Greek version.  Demons are "spiritual" agencies which can affect things within' this realm.  They can take on physical form, render at least a modicum of cause and effect and they can leave traces.  Not all "spiritual" things are as strong as others and they can take on various forms and guises.  Why they pick the ones that they do...is totally beyond me.

Quoted: Just spent the last 15 mins trying to find (remember) this guy's name by searching a bunch of Bigfoot links: John Mionczynski I saw part of a show yesterday - he's involved with an organization backed with funds from some scientific folks to find Bigfoot. Can't remember the name of his group or who is backing him. And I'm too tired to search further - maybe tomorrow... But his story (BF encounter) sure sounded interesting - plus he's well respected.

I think he was on a special on the Travel Channel about bigfoot. Why the Travel Channel was doing a special on bigfoot, I don't know. They followed it up with a special on mothman.

Anyway, they had some guys go out into the woods at night and play some loud recordings of gorillas to see if anything answered back. Lo and behold, something that sounded similar answered, once. They kept playing the recordings, but never got another response and never saw anything with IR.

They also had what they thought might be a bigfoot handprint on a car window, positioned where it would have placed its hand if it were leaning down to look inside. Most of them said it was probably just two or more of their own handprints smudged together and when their fingerprint expert examined it, they were right.

All in all, fairly tame and realistic. They'd gone to a place that was known for bigfoot sightings and not seen any evidence... except for whatever hollered back at them the first time they played their gorilla calls.

Unlike most, I have *personally* had an encounter. Not only did I and two friends have a sighting, we have video and biological samples as proof that the encounter was not a hoax.

Warning, graphic content: Bigfoot evidence

-k

And yet WHERE is the FLOOD of bigfoot pictures?

did you ever consider that there might only be a very few of them present day, that they might be on the verge of being extinct?

will the 30 30 do the job?