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Giants appear all over the world in various different folklores. There is the Yeti or the abominable snowman from Nepal, a large apelike creature with frostbitten fur that lives in the mountains. The North American version is of a nine-foot-tall creature, also described as an ape or hairy man called “Bigfoot” or “Sasquatch.” Native Americans have seen this creature and describe it not as an animal, but another type of man. It’s an interesting perspective because many believe that humans are descendants of great apes. Bigfoot is described as being ape-like, but it is much larger than any great ape species we currently know about. A possible explanation for Bigfoot sightings is the medical condition called hypertrichosis, a genetic disorder that leaves people with abnormal hair growth just about everywhere on the body including the face. However, these cases are extremely rare, and perhaps rarer still are people who suffer from it and don’t actively treat the growth. The explanation also fails because while it can cause people to look like hairy creatures, it doesn’t change human proportions. Bigfoot is described as being abnormally tall with ape-like features, and it is unlikely that a human with the condition would be mistaken for it. The condition may be a better explanation for sightings of smaller big feet or hairy creatures that appear to look like Dr. Seuss’s Lorax.
The term Sasquatch comes from various Indian names such as Soss q’atl, Sokqueatl, Sasq’atl, and various more. It was coined by a teacher named J.W. Burns who worked at an Indian reservation in British Columbia in the 1920s. Since then, many apelike creatures started being reported in the states, mostly in the Pacific Northwest.
Another question remains of whether or not the bigfoot phenomenon is a hoax. There have certainly been cases of pranksters dressed as ape-men trying to spook people. The tradition can be traced perhaps even further back to when people first started dressing up for Halloween. It then becomes a chicken-or-egg question. Did the legends of big foot come first, or was it people dressing up as apes that started the legend? Until a live specimen is found, this much will always be conjecture. Evidence of Bigfoot is so far confined to the shuttering of old tapes, photographs, and so-called footprints. Sometimes, tufts of hair have been retrieved, only to later be classified as belonging to a bear or wild hog. Some famous audio recordings of two of these creatures communicating can be found online with ease. In the recordings, you can clearly hear wild howls like the ones coyotes make—along with various grunts, yells, and incoherent blabbering that may be some primitive ape language. However, there is no telling if the sounds are legitimate. Look up the “Sierra Sounds” on your favorite search engine, and decide for yourself.
There are countless tapes (arguably each with very bad quality) of an ape-like creature walking around, but because they lack definition, it is difficult to say for sure what is being depicted. Grainy tapes are much easier to fool than high definition ones because the detail is blurred. A man walking with a cheap ape costume would appear as a very convincing big foot on one of these tapes. That no high definition footage has appeared in recent years is telling—especially now that smartphones equipped with megapixel cameras are so ambitious, it is a little odd that no such evidence has surfaced. However, multiple sightings have been reported well into the 2010s, and the legend remains strong. The following stories are based off first-hand encounters with Bigfoot-like creatures. Whether they are the real thing or not is up for debate.
The Backroad Ape
Sometime around 2009, I was studying at a local college in my hometown of Rhinebeck, NY. It’s a small town with maybe 7,000 people living there. I actually had to drive to the town over to go to my college. At the time, I was traveling down a back road in Rhinebeck on my way to a performing arts center where I was due for rehearsal. It was a heavily wooded area if I remember correctly. Rhinebeck has many backroads that lead into the countryside. Most of them are abandoned unlike the busy streets in cities. In hindsight, this is probably the best place you want to be if you are an elusive creature. Cars rarely pass by, and when they do they are easy to hear. The woods here are quiet as a tomb.
I was the only car on that road when it happened. I didn’t see any cars for a few miles before, so it was unlikely that there would be another witness. But I know what I saw that day. I talked with a few people who live nearby, they all thought I was crazy or trying to prank them. That was until I met an older gentleman, an outdoorsman who frequented hunting grounds nearby. He said he also saw a creature similar to what I described to him. Of course, his wife thought we were both crazy, but it was nice to hear some sort of validation from another person. I do believe there were some species of Big Foot roaming around in that area. Or at the very least, some crazed wilderness man.
Anyways, as I was driving I abruptly came across some bag in the middle of the road and I had to swerve to avoid it. If there was one thing my dad taught me about cars, it's that you have to try your hardest to avoid plastic bags. Those things can stick to the undercarriage of your car, heat up from the exhaust fumes and melt away vital components. I lost control of the car and almost flipped over, so I pulled to the side to inspect for damage. I didn’t find anything obvious, but I did notice that the bag had something in it. I walked up to it and saw, to my amazement, an open box of Captain Crunch and a stick. It was a small log, maybe a few inches thick and about a foot long as I walked away from it a saw something from the corner of my eye. It was obscured from view because my car was there, but I definitely saw something move. A figure, about human the size of a human. I thought It was some wino or a local drunk who left their bag there. At any rate, it was somebody I didn’t want to be hanging out within the middle of nowhere.
I still had to turn the car around because I sort of spun out. As I was driving away, I got about 50 feet away from the bag when I noticed the figure creep out of the brush. I only got a few second glimpses at it but my god was it large. If I had to estimate, I would say 7 feet at least. It was walking on two feet like a man, covered what looked like black hair. I only got to see it from a side and rear view, but it didn’t appear to be wearing any clothes or anything like that. It must have been the fur that covered it. It was large and muscular. The damned thing probably weighed 400 pounds.
The encounter made me feel strange. I was both scared and yet attracted to it. I wanted to learn more. It made me feel a strange excitement knowing that I just saw something absolutely out of the ordinary. But, I didn’t want to be late for my rehearsal. It is possible that the mirror made the figure look bigger than what it really was. It could have been a homeless man, but my mind was unconvinced. I’ve since driven to that place multiple times trying to get another glimpse of the thing, but it’s never appeared again.
It Came From the Sandpits
I’ve lived in the Seattle, Washington area all of my life. It’s a great city with plenty of wilderness areas surrounding it. So if you ever get tired of the hustle and the bustle, fresh air and scenic routes are only some 30 minutes’ drive away. Back in the 70s and early 80s, I would make frequent trips to Sultan for hunting and target practice. Sometimes I would stay for weeks on end, hanging out a friend’s place or renting a cheap motel. If you were a gun aficionado anywhere in Sultan during this time, then you knew all about the gravel pits. Everyone went to shoot there back in the day. This was before the residential areas started popping up near the pits and before the city decided to shut us down. I had made a lot of friends shooting out there, very close friendships I still maintain today. I guess people don’t like the sound of guns going off in their backyard. After they closed the pits, we had nowhere else to go for target practice. It was a sad, sad day.
I was down there in the summer of 82’ shooting up some targets with my scoped 30-06 Springfield. The pits are a wide and mostly flat clearing in the middle of the wilderness. It’s the perfect place for shooting. You can climb on top of a pit and see for a good distance, as I usually day. That day I must have brought at least 100 rounds with me. I had just bought a new clip and I was ready to put it to the test. After taking a few shots at the various targets around the pits, I noticed some movement from the corner of my eye. I shoot with both eyes open. Had one been closed I’m sure I would have missed it. I turned my sights slightly to where the movement came from thinking it may have been a bird, but what I saw instead was a large, brown, woolly thing. I’ve heard of stories coming out of Siberia of woolly mammoths being spotted in the present day, but this thing was too small to be a mammoth. It was about the size of a man and seemed to be standing upright.
My first inclination was to zoom in with my scope to get a better look. I actually thought it was someone setting up a cardboard target downrange in the middle of my firing. Boy if that were the case I was about to go off on the guy for doing something so stupid. But instead of a cardboard cutout, I saw two glazy eyes that blinked back at me. The thing was standing on top of a pit a little to the left of where I was shooting, so it was about the same elevation as I was. It must have been 75 to 150 feet away from me. As soon as I saw it blink, I knew this thing was alive. That’s when I thought, “Bigfoot.” One of the most elusive creatures (supposedly) in the world).
I remember someone told me a while back that there are million-dollar bounties on any such creature. I decided then and there to take a shot at it. What other avid hunters wouldn’t take it? It was a perfect shot, my rifle still loaded and my sights directly on the things scruffy forehead. Just as I was about to pull the trigger, I hesitated. I would have just as easily mistaken this thing for a guy setting up a target, and I here I was preparing to pull the trigger. I got tunnel vision and lost my situational awareness to the point I felt I had to put the rifle down. I was clearly nervous about shooting it, one because it was so mysterious, and two because I wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t a person. I just stood there looking at it for another 20 seconds or so before, at last, it turned away slowly and walked away. I immediately ran after it to the spot where it was standing. There was nothing. I spent another 20 to 30 minutes scrounging the area for any evidence of what I saw. Again nothing. No tufts of hair on the branches, no large footprints. I had to estimate the height of the creature with a nearby tree. I marked the area where the top of its head was, and it was some eight feet up the tree. I used my rifle to measure it, holding it up from the butt. I did go back and get an actual tape measure before I left. Eight feet tall.
After almost having shot that thing, I immediately returned to Seattle. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the pits. What if it had been a person I saw, and I pulled the trigger? What if it was an actual Big Foot and I shot it? Would the bullet have been enough to even stop it? The implications of catching this thing dead or alive where huge. There would be media coverage surely, and I would be at the center of it all. I don’t think I would be the right man for the job. I mean, discovering the existence of a beast from the legend that had gone untouched for hundreds of years? No way man, I’m no Davy Crockett. Just a man with a hobby. I was watching Harry and the Hendersons not too long ago, and the memories came back to haunt me. The thing I saw looked just like that, except maybe not so pretty.
You have to be a special kind of stupid to dress up in an ape costume and appear before a guy shooting rounds from a hunting rifle. So much can go wrong. And if that was indeed a costumed person that I saw, I can only say they did a damn good job at it. There was no smudging of makeup or any obvious sign the thing was a fake. It looked as natural as can be, and that was the scary part. To this day I don’t know quite what I saw, but I know that I saw it out there. And no, it wasn’t a bear. I’ve encountered many a bear, even hunted some. This thing was no bear. In retrospect, I’m glad they closed the pits. I’ve no inclination to go back there anytime soon. I only hope that those who moved into the residential areas don’t run into this thing I saw.
Birdshot Man
I never really believed in things like Big Foot growing up. The stories just seemed too fantastical to be any more than stories. My skepticism was only strengthened when I went off to the Uni and every course offered in logic and argumentation. If you are going to be a lawyer, you better be good at defending and attacking arguments. Whenever I hear those types of stories, I have a plethora of logical defenses I can use. Ockham’s razor, the burden of proof, several other logical fallacies. I don’t preoccupy myself with these things though. In fact, I hadn’t really thought about Big Foot since my childhood. That was until I went back home for summer.
This happened in our small town of Blackstone, Virginia back in 2011. My parents owned a respectable house, one that my father practically built from the ground up. They took great pride in owning property and they should have. It was a beautiful house on the outskirts of town. Anyways, I had been there for maybe a few weeks. Everything was as it was before I had left, except my dad had torn down the deck and was working on a new one. He’s always working on something despite being retired for a few years now. He told me that they had been hearing strange sounds at night, sort of like a low banging noise against the house. It was most likely a bear that had found some scraps on the side of the house. We also have a cat that my mom loves to death, so a bear was bad news. I knew my way around guns fairly well, even kept a shotgun in my room. Every night I would listen for a little while before falling asleep, but I never heard anything.
But one morning, I was awoken by a loud banging outside. This sounded louder than what my dad had described. I heard him yell at me to get up from upstairs and I immediately grabbed the shotgun and a handful of birdshot shells that I keep in a drawer. Yeah, don’t ask. My dad grabbed his revolver I think. We were expecting to see either a large bear or a burglar trying to break in. Either way, I was prepared to shoot at something. Maybe a little too trigger happy. Racing down the stairs I heard a wail, and let me tell you, there’s no way a human could have made that noise. It stopped me dead center as I held on to the railing for support. If it was a bear, it was a big one. But I’ve never heard bears make that sort of high-pitched noise. It sounded like something that belonged in a jungle, rather than in the Virginia woods. I should have realized then and there that something was wrong. Not in the sense that an error was made, but that what we were about to encounter was out of this world.
It was still a little dark outside, but light enough to see. It was that blueish hue you see before the sun breaks through the clouds. At first, I didn’t see anything unusual, nor did I hear any more wailing. I searched around the house and especially the deck area for signs of a break in. It was then that my father yelled my name, sounding completely horrified. I turned to his direction where he had been looking out at the woods and I saw it. It was sort of hiding behind tree cover, but there it was. Some seven feet tall, hairy like the Chewbacca character from Star Wars. Teeth blaring and breathing heavily. I could see a cloud of condensation blow with each monstrous heave. It sounded like my Grandpa’s old Saint Bernard panting right in front of me. I don’t know if it was hungry or what, but the thing looked mean. My dad kept his arm in front of me, but we both had our weapons raised at this point.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot son,” my dad told me in the same petrified, stuttering voice from before. “What the hell is that?” For a few moments, we just stood there in the morning dew, staring at each other. The more I looked the more I felt like I would lose my mind. Have you ever stared at a shadow in your room at night that looks like something menacing? Bike handlebars become the horns of the devil, a chair with a towel thrown over it becomes a phantom. It was like that, just staring intently, trying to figure out what constituent parts made up the illusion. Only, this wasn’t a shadow in the dark made up of ordinary objects. It was real, breathing, and coming straight towards us.
It took a few timid steps, then it picked up speed. When It was a full sprint, my dad yelled again, “Warning shots!” as if he were giving instructions to a bad guy not to come any closer. It all happened so fast. I heard my dad’s pistol go off, and I immediately shot in the air. But I’ll be lying If I said I wasn’t aiming the bullet spread to slightly hit the charging creature in the face. At the distance we were shooting from, the birdshot surely would have hit the thing. Everything went downhill from there. It let out a scream, probably the most terrible thing I have ever heard. The sound was bad enough, but actually hearing it come out of this things mouth was even worse. Imagine a bear, walking on two legs and yelling “Hey!” at you. You’d be startled too; I don’t care how brave you are. It kept charging despite our shots. I knew we landed some, otherwise, it wouldn’t have hollered like that.
Instinctually and without saying a word, I and my dad turned our backs on it and ran straight into the house, not once looking back. We immediately looked out the window, and the creature was lost behind a hill. It was nowhere to be seen. We tried other windows but didn’t see him. Eventually, we stepped back outside, and it was gone. It left huge footprints, about 18 inches long. But as we followed the trail back to the woods, the footprints stopped. Either this thing climbed into the trees or it disappeared into nothingness. We told mom it was a bear and that we scared it off. The rest of the summer was peaceful. I helped my dad finish the deck and we spent many afternoons barbecuing with family and friends. I and my dad don’t speak about it, sometimes when we look out into the woods we give each other this look that says, “Did that really happen to us?” I will never forget the sounds the creature made, nor will I forget the putrid odor that followed it.
