Ian writes "The story I’m sitting down to tell, is a true one. One experienced by a faithful friend of mine, Sam, and I. I’m often reluctant to tell this story at length to most people, as the subject matter is unexplainable and rather strange. I don’t want to be viewed as the superstitious nut. But having guided all across the country, and having extensive experience in many environments around the united states, I feel I have the authority to tell this story. Essentially what I’m saying is I’ve been around, in the deep dark hollows all across North America, and never experienced something so strange as I did that night. I don’t fancify my experiences in the woods, nor do I hopefully imagine there’s something more to a twig breaking. As anyone who has spent a good deal of time in the woods knows, there’s no reason to. Eventually you’ll experience something daring or fantastic. I am a hunter first and foremost, and to a hunter there’s always an explanation, a reason to the wilderness and her inhabitants. Its how we identify patterns and exploit an animals rhythm to make a successful hunt. As a hunter you’re a sort of woodsman detective, piecing together clues to set yourself up for success. Lets just say this tale is a cold-case. Let’s get into it. It was early summer and I was itching to go camping. I had recently received a new tent and was eager to use it. I called up my good buddy, Sam, and we planned out our camping adventure. We considered going up to the Grayson highlands, or even south into North Carolina. After debating it, we decided it would be more fun to camp somewhere we wouldn’t run into any other people. Deep in the woods, far from anyone else, where we could bushcraft, hoot and holler, and bring a gun without fear of scaring the yuppies camping next to us. While we both lived in the woods, I definitely had access to the most remote stretch of woods between us. So we loaded up our stuff and began hiking, deep into the valley below my childhood home. The hike was almost completely straight down a steep hillside, deep into a a hollow that held a small patch of flat land, a flood plane area and creek. The small creek that ran gave the area a beautiful ambiance. Early signs of summer were visible all around and the weather was great. We hiked until we felt the need to start gathering firewood before nightfall. Behind us a was a steep hillside that rose into the west for miles. In front of us was the creek, and to the left the start of another ridge and hillside that rose high into the east and north. To our right, the valley we were in, continued to go down cutting a deep valley. and on the other side of the creek another ridge, separated by a small stream from the ridge to the left, rose into the west and to the south. These two ridges in front of us ran for miles and the little valley formed by the small creek split these ridges for a long ways up until it hit the spring head. This is important for later in the story. Off to the right, further down the valley, more splits in the ridges are made by little tributaries. We started building camp by clearing the brush and leaves away and constructing a small firepit. I placed a tarp on the ground to separate my tent from the damp earth. Remember this, the tarp extended out roughly a foot on each side of my tent. Sam had a hammock that he planned to sleep in, I’ve only ever camped in a hammock once, and it didn’t go great. But I didn’t say anything to him, thinking that maybe he would enjoy it. We gathered a hefty load of firewood, consisting of some reasonably dry stuff. It was shaping up to be a really nice camping trip. I’ve spoken about the joy of being “out there” on this blog before, so I won’t beat a dead horse, but it was really nice to be away from people. Sam and I sat around the fire and shot the shit until the sun went down. Now one of the things Sam and I have always bonded on, has been Bigfoot shows. We’re both skeptics, and I would say we hold a similar or the same opinion on the subject. Our interest is less about believing in bigfoot, but rather we just find the subject matter to be nostalgic, silly, and a fun thing to joke about. So, I brought up the idea to Sam, that we begin to “Hunt” Bigfoot. He laughed and thought it was a great idea. So we began doing the antics they do in the “Finding Bigfoot” TV show. We started with the classic, Tree knocks. A “Tree Knock” for those unaware, is when you use a stick to beat on a tree, making a loud knocking sound that echoes through the forest. Supposedly sasquatch communicate this way. We didn’t think anything of it at all, as I said before, we didn’t really believe, we were just joking around. So we began by knocking on the trees and then stopping and listening for a response. After a few times of doing this we paused, and hearing nothing I began to think of a joke to crack and something else to do. Before I could open my mouth...
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Sep 22 20251 h et 14 min