October 6, 2025 • 37 mins
They Found Bigfoot's Nest of Bones - When a 16 year old girl from a hamily of seasoned hunters took her new compound bow into the wilds of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, she stumbled into something far beyond deer or bear.
What began as a routine hunt with her father and brother turned into chilling moments when the trio discovered piles of bones — some animal, some disturbingly human-like — and then came face-to-face with a towering, black-haired creature and its young.
What followed was a tense, heart-pounding standoff that forced them to flee for their lives.
🎧 Listen now for one of the most intense and unsettling encounters ever shared — a story that asks us to reconsider what really lives beyond the tree line.
This story was originally published on Buckeye Bigfoot's YouTube channel on 4/25/2025.
If you have an encountery you'd like to share, email it to: Contact@buckeyebigfoot.com
If you've enjoyed this episode, there are hundreds more on the youTube channel.
Find us on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/@BuckeyeBigfoot
What began as a routine hunt with her father and brother turned into chilling moments when the trio discovered piles of bones — some animal, some disturbingly human-like — and then came face-to-face with a towering, black-haired creature and its young.
What followed was a tense, heart-pounding standoff that forced them to flee for their lives.
🎧 Listen now for one of the most intense and unsettling encounters ever shared — a story that asks us to reconsider what really lives beyond the tree line.
This story was originally published on Buckeye Bigfoot's YouTube channel on 4/25/2025.
If you have an encountery you'd like to share, email it to: Contact@buckeyebigfoot.com
If you've enjoyed this episode, there are hundreds more on the youTube channel.
Find us on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/@BuckeyeBigfoot
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Tonight's encounter comes to you from long ago.
(00:03):
We're pulling this one out of the vault.
[Water sounds]
In the autumn of 2002, I had just turned 16 years old.
For my gift that year, I received a compound bow.
(00:26):
I had been learning the skill of archery since I was around 12.
Now this may surprise some of you because I am female.
I was born into a family of hunters.
I had only older brothers, two of them to be exact, and my father only had brothers
as well.
But only one of those uncles provided me with a female cousin.
(00:49):
She was also ten years older than me.
But we probably wouldn't have been pals even if we'd been closer in age, seeing as she
was a squeamish, pretty kind, who had been an actual homecoming queen.
Now I just tell you that, so you know, I was the lone female most of the time, other than
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my mother and some older aunts, especially when we all went up to Grandpa Bobby's place,
up in the upper peninsula in Michigan.
This place had been in the family for forever, or so everyone said, "I can't give you any
more provenance than that."
I can tell you it was around 40 acres, and it was also situated between Highway 41 and
(01:35):
Silver Lake Basin.
It was surrounded and backed up two state-forced lands.
Now this was fortunate in regards to hunting, because 40 acres is a postage stamp.
I recall a few times that one of us would flush something out on two Grandpa Bobby's actual
property, and more than once hunters from the public lands would drive their game onto
(02:00):
our land, usually unknowingly.
Most times we just made sure our permits were in order, and we could just walk onto the
public hunting lands to get our game.
My birthday is in June, so I practiced all summer with my new precious gift.
Prior to the compound bow, I had been working with a smaller recurve bow, but it had given
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me very good upper strength that came in handy with my new compound bow.
There was a learning curve, no pun intended, and going from the recurve to the compound
bow, but by autumn I felt confident to make it my hunter when we went up to Grandpa Bobby's
that year.
(02:46):
The main group of my father's family all lived in and around Iron Mountain, very near the
Wisconsin and Michigan border, meaning that Grandpa Bobby's place was only about an hour
and a half away, which in turn meant that on almost any given weekend between September
and Christmas, you were just about guaranteed to find at least a few people having a weekend
(03:09):
up there.
Sometimes we didn't know who or how many would be there until we got there.
Sometimes there was almost no one there, and everybody got a bunk that way.
There were three bedrooms there.
Two bedrooms were smaller, and each had two bunk beds in it.
The larger bedroom had three bunk beds in it, so that's 14 bunk beds, plus sometimes
(03:35):
people crashed on the pullout sofa, and if all else failed, we put our sleeping bags
on the floor.
Now, I liked it best when the place was full of family.
I never liked being there when it was just five of us, meaning me, mom, dad and my brothers.
My mom and dad would take one room of bunk beds, my brothers would take the second room,
(03:59):
and that would leave me alone in a room by myself.
I wasn't scared, but it sure was quiet and lonely.
Well, that's all the backstory.
Let's get to the good part, which I know is what you're all waiting for.
Finally, it was October, and there were nine of us up at Grandpa Bobby's.
(04:22):
Six of us were hunting, and the other three were not.
That would be my mother and two of my aunts.
Now sometimes they did hunt, but they chose not to that day.
I suspect because the weather was fairly nasty, cold, misting rain with gloomy grey skies.
I was with my dad and my older brother, while the other group went off in a different direction
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by choice.
We walked into the public lands, and into an area that we knew was roughly only a couple
hundred yards off of our property.
I hadn't been on to those public lands since the year before, but my dad and uncles
I knew had been up to Grandpa Bobby's over the summer for their poker weekends.
(05:08):
But to my eyes, I noticed something was off.
Even when we went further into the land that I hadn't seen before, which we'll cover
in a moment, I knew there were things very wrong.
The first tree break we saw, but we didn't mention to each other.
Yes, it was an odd thing, but I just guessed that it was from wind damage.
(05:32):
We noted it and kept walking.
About thirty yards further down, there was another set, this time two tree breaks.
These were exactly like the first one we saw, broken at about the same height, almost
seven feet from the ground.
These were opposite one another, standing like tall sentinels, or more to the point, maybe
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they were more like warnings along the trail.
There was no mistaking that these were done intentionally.
They were too evenly placed, while nothing around them had been damaged.
We did take note with each other verbally about the tree breaks.
I asked my dad, "How did that happen?"
(06:20):
He looked at them for perhaps two seconds longer before he answered me slowly.
"I'm really not sure," was all he said.
"Now if I had paid more attention, I might have seen the unease on my father's face, and
the guarded caution on my brothers.
But I did not notice those things.
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I was anxious to keep moving.
All I could think about at that moment was making good on my promise to my mother, that
I was going to get the first kill of the season, and I was going to fill the family
freezer.
We continued on only to come upon more tree breaks as we walked.
It was evident these were spaced at almost regular intervals, roughly fifty to seventy-five
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yards apart.
I then noticed how much more thoughtful and quiet my father had become.
He gave us the signal to stay quiet with a frequency nearing being constant.
He was watchful and very on guard.
I did not see that behavior for what it was.
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In my mind he was just on the hunt and was being quiet.
And that was correct.
He was hunting, but not the usual game, and not anything that I believe he would intend
to bring back for the family freezer.
Only later would I learn.
He had a reason for this caution, a reason I was unaware of.
(07:53):
We walked slow and silent, the broken trees marking the trail.
I knew this was the point that we usually left off this trail and headed into the denser
forest that lay near the dead river.
And yes, that is what it's really called, dead river.
But my father continued on, and I didn't question him.
(08:16):
He had been hunting these lands since he was a boy.
We turned, and we headed in a northeasterly direction for a while, came to a dirt road, crossed
that, then we turned south, and we followed the dead river until we could cross it at a shallow
place that I had never seen before.
(08:37):
And it was here that I saw sight I had never seen before.
There were two very large X's of trees bent over the trail, with others pushed into the
ground dotting the sides of the trail, the way some of us line our sidewalks with lights.
These were trees that had looked to have been pulled up completely, broken off, then jammed
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into the ground upside down.
I had never seen such a thing.
I couldn't imagine how someone could manage such a thing.
Of course, only later would I come to understand that someone didn't do that.
Something did.
We had a quick huddle on the trail, and my father told us to make ready with our pistols.
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Yes, we carried them for defense when we hunted.
He told us to stay absolutely quiet.
When he said he was going to scout up maybe a hundred two hundred yards further up the trail,
but he wanted us to remain there.
My brother and I protested loudly.
I was unsure of what was going on, and I wasn't even sure that something really was going
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on.
But my instincts were twisting my gut up at the thought of any of us being separated.
I had had no feelings of alarm until that moment.
My brother felt the same way, and he said so.
Then he made a joke about, "Hey dad, this is how scary movies start, you know?
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People start separating."
No one laughed.
My father looked at me in particular and said, "Okay, I'm going to level with you.
I think there's a very dangerous creature here, but it's usually only out at night and
sleeps during the day.
When I trust that you will stay silent and do what I tell you," he asked, I nodded and said,
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"Yes, of course."
He looked at my brother and asked him the same thing, and my brother too answered, "Yes."
I started to ask, "What kind of creature?"
But my dad gave me a look that said, "Be quiet."
And he looked at me with a death stare like I was already breaking my promise.
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But I felt silent, still not saying a word when my father stopped, and pulled me in front
of my brother, so I would be between them.
I was a little miffed about that, believing that I was almost grown up, and that I could take
care of myself no matter what.
But in reality, I was not.
I was barely five foot four on a tall day, and I weighed 140 pounds.
(11:22):
And before you come at me for being overweight, just know I was mostly muscle at that point,
but I still would have been no match for what I came to find out was out there.
So we walked a little bit down the trail, with the trees standing upright all along, and
I could see little other than my father's back.
(11:45):
He was walking slowly, picking his way carefully you could say.
As we walked, I had a million questions, because by now I knew this was not normal behavior
for my father.
For starters, he was moving in stealth mode, yet here we were, out in the open on a trail.
(12:06):
Later I would understand it was because he wasn't ready to go off trail at that point.
He knew things lurked in the trees.
Things I was not aware of.
At one point my dad stopped, and stepped just to the right of the trail quickly, over by
some brush, and he gave us the signal to get low.
(12:28):
We all moved quickly together, and did the same.
I was truly ignorant of just what we were in the middle of, and I actually found it all
a little exciting.
Being stealthy, being told there was a dangerous creature possibly nearby.
All these unusual movements, all the secrecy, and now we were in an area that I had never
(12:51):
been in before.
But only later, once again, would I come to know why our family avoided this area.
I crouched behind my father, waiting and listening.
Somewhere ahead I heard the crack of wood, like it was splintering.
Then there was an immediate loud popping crack as it gave way.
(13:16):
I felt a chill when I thought, whoever or whatever was breaking these trees, was just up ahead
somewhere.
I tried to lean around my father to look ahead on the trail, but he turned and gave me a silent
death-stair.
He balled his hand into a fist, which was his sign to hold your position.
(13:38):
I settled back in place behind him.
We stayed in that crouched position long enough that my knees began to ache, and parts of my
bent legs were going to sleep.
During that time we heard one more tree crack and pop.
After that it was silent for several minutes.
(13:59):
As we waited, a light rain began to fall steadily.
Finally, after several more minutes of silence, my father stood up slowly.
When I stood up, I had the uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in my legs as the blood
flow returned.
We turned to head back in the direction of the dead river.
(14:21):
When my father stopped on the trail once again, an abruptly changed direction to walk ninety
degrees from our previous position.
That put us walking further south, almost parallel to a run of trees that followed the dead river,
but running more southern in the direction, further from our entry point across the river.
(14:44):
Dad stepped just inside the trees and we followed.
I could make no heads or tails out of what was going on, but something had my dad on edge,
and it was like he was zigzagging back and forth, looking for something.
And it began to feel more and more like a military recon mission than hunting or even
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scouting for hunting.
Another hundred yards may be of walking parallel to the river, and we come to a semi-open
area and a creek.
In that area we had to pick our way carefully through.
There were numerous fingers of water coming from the river and the creek, and there were
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some standing pools of water.
Sometimes you'd start to put your foot down, and you would have to pull back because the
ground felt more like water than ground, and you'd have to test another place to walk.
The entire time my father was looking up, down and around, everywhere carefully, all
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while continually signaling for silence every minute or so.
Then he turned his direction to follow some scrub, maybe fifty yards north, all the while
keeping his eyes on the forest of trees that began again on the other side of the pools
of water.
The stench of rotting meat suddenly hung heavy in the air, made worse by the rain.
(16:13):
I had a vision at my head of the rain, washing the stench down out of the air, and pushing
it into my hair and clothes everywhere that the rain hit me.
Truthfully, I guess I wasn't too far off, I would still smell that rotting meat stench on
my clothes later when we went home.
At one point passed the pool of water, there was another line of scrubs, and the trees that
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bridged the one we had been skirting against, and the opposite one that my father had been
watching.
In essence, we had made a shallow flanking maneuver.
The closer we got to that other tree line, the stronger the smell of the rotting meat stench,
and very soon we saw why.
(17:00):
Just inside the line of trees that we had worked so hard to silently flank, there were piles
and piles of bones with varying degrees of meat, hide and blood still on them.
Most had been picked clean, but there was enough clinging to some of the bones that they had
begun to decay.
I can't imagine what it would have smelled like in the summer.
(17:25):
I had a moment of clarity, and then it chill of fear when I saw something in the pile of
bones nearest to me.
I saw what I knew was the skull of a bear, probably a black bear.
One of my uncles had gotten a bear a few years back.
It's bleached white skull still hung on the back of the house, along with some deer elk
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and some other animals.
The chill came when I realized whatever made these piles of bones took out a bear, and
I didn't know what that could be up in Michigan.
My father dropped to a low position again and gave the silent signal.
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This time I was on a diagonal behind him, so I could see up ahead.
Up ahead where the sunlight was breaking in through the trees on the edge near the first
pool of water, I saw something moving.
I blinked my eyes again and again, squinted and looked again, unsure of what it was I was
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looking at.
There was a large creature shaped like a person with arms and legs in a head.
It was covered in black hair.
The arms were long, but still came to just below the hip.
Its arms were still much longer than ours because its torso was much longer than ours.
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When it turned and walked a few steps, I realized two things at once.
It was female, and it wasn't alone.
There was a smaller version of it standing near it.
The female held out a hand, and the small one reached out, and in one fluid movement
they both worked together to swing the young one up and around, where it wrapped itself
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around the females back and held on.
If the chill of fear had not already taken hold in my gut, it went off the charts when I
realized she had turned and was now walking directly toward us.
There was nowhere we could go, and even if there was, there was nowhere we could go that
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we wouldn't be seeing getting there.
My eyes flicked over to that bare skull again, and although I wasn't sure what was coming
toward us, I had the feeling it was best if we were not seeing.
I looked at my father, but he stayed perfectly still for a few moments anyway.
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I imagine he was considering the best options as well.
The creature came to within about ten yards of us, and my father suddenly stood up, his
gun drawn.
Me and my brother followed suit, and stood up, guns drawn.
So now we ran a stair down.
I could feel my heart beating out of my chest.
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I didn't know how we'd gotten here, and how it had spiraled so far out of control.
I was terrified, yet I must confess also a little exhilarated.
When it saw us, it stopped immediately.
At this distance I saw more of this creature.
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To me it had an ugly, fearsome face.
Though it made no sound, I am sure I could see its jaw working, sort of like it was chewing
gum.
Later, when comparing notes, my father said he thought it was grinding its teeth.
If I was unable to appreciate its full size before, I certainly could now.
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I wasn't good at guessing height, but it was much taller than either my dad or my brother,
and my brother was bigger, taller, and more muscular than my dad, coming in at six feet
one inches, and he ranged anywhere from two-ten to two-twenty pounds.
But he was a nat compared to the heft and muscle of this female before us.
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All three of us could have jumped her, and I believe she could have flung us off of her
quite easily.
And she would have sent us flying from her like little bitty kids getting flung off the
merry-go-round when some mean teenager starts whipping it up to high speed.
I believe it's called centrifugal force.
Yes, we would have went flying like kids from a merry-go-round.
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Although I had my nine-millimeter pistol that my grandfather had given me years before,
I would have preferred the compound bow that was slung on my back.
I was more comfortable with a bow, and I was strangely more accurate, and I also felt
that the bow would have been deadlier.
Fling at this massive mound of fur, flesh, and muscle, that was only twenty-five or thirty
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feet away from me, I felt like I might as well have been holding a nerf gun.
The big female sort of put her head down, and she let out a low, rattling exhale that sounded
like a cross between a perr and a growl.
I saw all the sides of her mouth lift up and down like a chitter, and then I saw a little
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ivory of her teeth here and there.
That perr was taking on the form of a snarl.
My father very quietly told me and my brother to back up, and walk quickly back the way we
came.
He stressed, "Don't run."
But there was nothing more I wanted to do than run.
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I felt my brother grab my arm, turn me around, and then he shoved me forward in front of him.
"Go!" I heard him hiss in my ear.
So I went.
I looked back, and my father had only taken a few steps backwards.
That my brother kept pushing me forward, so hard that at one point I fell forward and had
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to quickly pick myself up.
When I got back up, I saw that we were to the bridge of trees where we had came in to
flank that creature.
I looked back, but I could not see my father.
I thought he was following us.
Once we got into the bridge of trees, my brother told me to run.
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I started to argue, but he started yelling at me.
So I ran.
I ran, honestly, faster than I think I have ever ran in my life.
I don't think I ran that fast when I ran track in high school.
We ran through the bridge of trees, and into the connecting forest of trees on the other
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side passed the pool of water.
I kept looking for my father again and again, and panic rose when I did not see him.
My heart sank, thinking that we had left him behind, and that he was now being eaten alive
by the big female, and that by nightfall you would be his bones on one of those heaps.
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I wanted to cry, but I was running too hard, and I didn't dare start crying.
Just as we were almost to the creek that intersected the dead river, I heard a shot fire, then
another.
We stopped and looked back to see my father come running out of the tree's opposite of
us.
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He went straight through the pools of water.
One was rather shallow, about mid-caff deep, and he could run right through it with no trouble.
But the next pool, that was more like mid-thigh deep, and he plunged down into it just as
the big female came out in the open.
She was gaining on him fast.
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My father turned, and he fired once again.
But he hit her that time.
She let out a scream unlike anything I had heard before or since, and I have searched the
internet high and low, and I have found nothing like it.
She let out that scream, and began to veer in a wide arc to turn around, and she headed
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right back into the safety of the trees.
We met my father as he came out of the water.
Before we could say anything, he was telling us to keep going to run.
Go back like we came, he said.
Right after the female let out her scream, we heard a roar echo out through the trees.
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One look at my dad's face, I thought he was going to crap himself.
And let me tell you what is the most scary thing ever.
When the person that you've looked up to your whole life, the one you thought could fight
a lion bear handed and win.
When you look at that person, and you see fear on his face, I promise you, that's a fear
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in a class of its own.
We ran all the way back to where we crossed the dead river, only stopping to catch our
breath on the other side for just a moment.
Then continuing in a brisk pace, checking behind us frequently as we went.
Now everything up to that point had been both a blur, and had happened in slow motion
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with perfect clarity.
I had a thousand questions, but dad didn't have to tell me to still be quiet.
I stayed quiet until we made it back to Grandpa Bobby's.
Somewhere along the way we discovered that each of us had lost or dropped some very important
gear.
Me?
(27:09):
I have no recollection of having tossed my precious compound bow down, but I did.
My brother told me that when dad told us to run, I was already in motion of putting my
gun back in the thigh case and had reached for my bow off my back.
But when my dad yelled at us, and my brother grabbed me, he said I threw it down in panic
(27:32):
as I turned to run.
I have absolutely no memory of that at all, none.
It's been over twenty-two years of thinking on it, and I still can't find one shred of
a memory of it.
But I had done just that.
I had thrown down my precious and prized bow right there in a pile of bones.
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It was pure pandemonium when we made it back to Grandpa Bobby's.
I don't think I could speak coherently for half an hour or more.
I had a strong desire to be inside, to be behind the locked steel door.
I wanted more defenses between me and the outside world that I now knew harbored, frightening
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things such as that, that, that what was it?
I had to ask myself that question, but deep down I did know what it was.
But again I prided myself on being reasonable, logical, and in a reasonable and logical world,
things like Sasquatches do not exist, except they do, and I had just seen a female one, and
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I suppose a young one.
There is so much more backstory to all of this, that I hardly knew where to begin this
email.
Even now I'm not sure how to fit it all in.
See, when my dad was growing up, him and one of his brothers had ventured that far over
the dead river into that exact area when they were just teenagers.
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They had ran into a large nest of those very Sasquatches.
At the time, dad said there were several adults, and at least as many young ones, they had walked
right into their nest, not knowing they were there.
Now most of the males were down, sleeping.
The females, however, were up and tending to the young ones on the other side of the nesting
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area.
This was a scenario not so different from ours, in that when they spotted each other, everyone
froze, human, and Sasquatches.
Now the difference for my dad and his brother was that there were two very large males awake,
alert, and on the defense.
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One of the males, my father said, he thought, was much older, probably elderly.
He had gray in his fur, and he was more stooped, and he moved a little slower, much the way
an old human moves.
Now, my dad and his brother had rifles with them at the time.
It was late spring, but they took them for protection against bears, which were far more
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numerous back then, and they did have to make use of those rifles to make their getaway.
They swore they would never go back across the dead river to the south again, and they
hadn't.
But they found out that a few of their older relatives did after that.
You see, those relatives had heard the boy's story, and it brought up other stories and other
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experiences that they personally had had.
And together, they banded together and decided they were going to wipe the nest of Sasquatches
out.
I don't know the full story, and truthfully neither does dad.
All he knows is that summer and autumn, there was a serious battle going on.
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By winter, they each kept to their side of the dead river, and it had mostly stayed that
way all these years, and after several years, everyone seemed to believe that they had
either been wiped out, or the Sasquatches had moved on from that area.
But over the recent summer, when dad had been up there on those poker weekends, they heard
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some things.
In the night, they heard strange yells echoing through the forests.
Dad woke up and he knew what he was hearing.
But they didn't go seek them out, not then.
They didn't have any hunting things with them.
Then when the autumn hunting started, there were more sounds that everyone was hearing, people
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in the family who didn't even believe in Sasquatches.
Then one of my male cousins, a younger one, swore that he ran into a bigfoot up near
the river.
Someone had a good laugh at him, except my dad and his brothers.
The tree breaks.
Those were something my father said he hadn't seen since he was a teenager.
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The very same year that they found that nest Sasquatches across the dead river, and they
saw them all the way leading up to the nest.
Now earlier in the summer, one of my cousins, not the one that saw the bigfoot, well he
had mentioned in passing about trees being broken, and that he saw some trees cross like
(32:32):
X's.
A alarm did hearing that.
My father asked him where.
But my cousin's description had been vague.
He had walked all over that day.
After a lot of consideration, my father said that he knew he needed to know if the Sasquatches
were back.
His plan had been to go out on his own, to scout around and have a look back where they
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used to be, to see if they were really back.
But something changed the day that we all went out together.
I don't think that dad planned it to happen the way it did.
We did want to explore some areas that we hadn't hunted, and he really didn't realize how
close we were to them.
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A lot of the terrain had changed in the time since he was a teenager, and he hadn't been
there since then.
In his mind, their nest was much further to the south than where we were.
And for all we know, maybe it had been at one time.
Maybe they had moved their nest closer and adjusted because of the creek, river, and other
(33:39):
terrain changes.
Now when we heard those tree cracks on the main trail, dad changed course believing we were
about to run into one, and we might very well have.
I think the male or a couple males doing those tree breaks up ahead are who roared back when
the female screamed when she was shot.
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Of course, diverting our course away from what we think were the males only put us unknowingly
much closer to the actual nest.
You know, my dad has beat himself up a lot over this.
When we came out where the creek met the river, and we ran into the pools of water, he said
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that he had a strong sense of both recognition and deja vu altogether.
He says he should have known, and he should have turned back right then.
But he didn't for some reason.
He said he felt compelled to go forward.
Instead we ended up walking into a Sasquatch nest, and in particular, into their piles
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of cast-off bones at the edge of the nest.
You know, I think about those bones that I saw in those piles.
I only had a few glances, but it was enough.
Yes, there were some smaller bones from smaller animals, but I saw larger bones as well.
Dear elk and bear.
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Both my father and my brother also saw the bear skull, and it wasn't a small one.
But what I really think about is the other bones that I saw.
Bones that make me chill up when I think about them late at night.
I saw them femurs, tibias, humerus, large rib cages.
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These looked very human.
Only much larger.
So I think they do eat their dead.
Another thing is that almost all of the bones I saw had been cracked open and the marrow sucked
out.
These creatures really frightened me.
(35:49):
I still haven't told you all that happened when dad stared down the female after we ran.
I literally have forgotten trying to fit it in with everything else.
But the quick version is, she pulled the small one off her back and said it down.
Dad knew then she was preparing to fight.
That's when he ran, and fired a couple shots in her direction blindly.
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But his aim was off while he was running.
But he did get her on the third shot.
We all agree on that.
That's when we saw him come out from the trees, and her come out in the open too.
There's even more with a lot more finer details that are all interwoven.
But truthfully, I am tired of typing.
(36:33):
This has been about two days worth, and I keep going over it and putting more and more in.
This is so long, I did not think it would be this long.
I now live in Duluth, Minnesota, and I do still hunt.
I'm just much more cautious.
I have never seen another tree break again.
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I've never seen an X of trees either, or any upside down trees.
But if I did, I would turn around immediately.
And I would advise you to do the same as well.
Those tree breaks and those upside down trees, they're markers and warnings, territory
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markers in particular.
They mean stay away.
I'm sorry, there is more, but I just can't type anymore.
Signed Pamela H. Duluth, Minnesota.
[BLANK_AUDIO]
Tonight's encounter comes to you from long ago.
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We're pulling this one out of the vault.
[Water sounds]
In the autumn of 2002, I had just turned 16 years old.
For my gift that year, I received a compound bow.
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I had been learning the skill of archery since I was around 12.
Now this may surprise some of you because I am female.
I was born into a family of hunters.
I had only older brothers, two of them to be exact, and my father only had brothers
as well.
But only one of those uncles provided me with a female cousin.
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She was also ten years older than me.
But we probably wouldn't have been pals even if we'd been closer in age, seeing as she
was a squeamish, pretty kind, who had been an actual homecoming queen.
Now I just tell you that, so you know, I was the lone female most of the time, other than
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my mother and some older aunts, especially when we all went up to Grandpa Bobby's place,
up in the upper peninsula in Michigan.
This place had been in the family for forever, or so everyone said, "I can't give you any
more provenance than that."
I can tell you it was around 40 acres, and it was also situated between Highway 41 and
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Silver Lake Basin.
It was surrounded and backed up two state-forced lands.
Now this was fortunate in regards to hunting, because 40 acres is a postage stamp.
I recall a few times that one of us would flush something out on two Grandpa Bobby's actual
property, and more than once hunters from the public lands would drive their game onto
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our land, usually unknowingly.
Most times we just made sure our permits were in order, and we could just walk onto the
public hunting lands to get our game.
My birthday is in June, so I practiced all summer with my new precious gift.
Prior to the compound bow, I had been working with a smaller recurve bow, but it had given
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me very good upper strength that came in handy with my new compound bow.
There was a learning curve, no pun intended, and going from the recurve to the compound
bow, but by autumn I felt confident to make it my hunter when we went up to Grandpa Bobby's
that year.
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The main group of my father's family all lived in and around Iron Mountain, very near the
Wisconsin and Michigan border, meaning that Grandpa Bobby's place was only about an hour
and a half away, which in turn meant that on almost any given weekend between September
and Christmas, you were just about guaranteed to find at least a few people having a weekend
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up there.
Sometimes we didn't know who or how many would be there until we got there.
Sometimes there was almost no one there, and everybody got a bunk that way.
There were three bedrooms there.
Two bedrooms were smaller, and each had two bunk beds in it.
The larger bedroom had three bunk beds in it, so that's 14 bunk beds, plus sometimes
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people crashed on the pullout sofa, and if all else failed, we put our sleeping bags
on the floor.
Now, I liked it best when the place was full of family.
I never liked being there when it was just five of us, meaning me, mom, dad and my brothers.
My mom and dad would take one room of bunk beds, my brothers would take the second room,
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and that would leave me alone in a room by myself.
I wasn't scared, but it sure was quiet and lonely.
Well, that's all the backstory.
Let's get to the good part, which I know is what you're all waiting for.
Finally, it was October, and there were nine of us up at Grandpa Bobby's.
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Six of us were hunting, and the other three were not.
That would be my mother and two of my aunts.
Now sometimes they did hunt, but they chose not to that day.
I suspect because the weather was fairly nasty, cold, misting rain with gloomy grey skies.
I was with my dad and my older brother, while the other group went off in a different direction
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by choice.
We walked into the public lands, and into an area that we knew was roughly only a couple
hundred yards off of our property.
I hadn't been on to those public lands since the year before, but my dad and uncles
I knew had been up to Grandpa Bobby's over the summer for their poker weekends.
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But to my eyes, I noticed something was off.
Even when we went further into the land that I hadn't seen before, which we'll cover
in a moment, I knew there were things very wrong.
The first tree break we saw, but we didn't mention to each other.
Yes, it was an odd thing, but I just guessed that it was from wind damage.
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We noted it and kept walking.
About thirty yards further down, there was another set, this time two tree breaks.
These were exactly like the first one we saw, broken at about the same height, almost
seven feet from the ground.
These were opposite one another, standing like tall sentinels, or more to the point, maybe
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they were more like warnings along the trail.
There was no mistaking that these were done intentionally.
They were too evenly placed, while nothing around them had been damaged.
We did take note with each other verbally about the tree breaks.
I asked my dad, "How did that happen?"
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He looked at them for perhaps two seconds longer before he answered me slowly.
"I'm really not sure," was all he said.
"Now if I had paid more attention, I might have seen the unease on my father's face, and
the guarded caution on my brothers.
But I did not notice those things.
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I was anxious to keep moving.
All I could think about at that moment was making good on my promise to my mother, that
I was going to get the first kill of the season, and I was going to fill the family
freezer.
We continued on only to come upon more tree breaks as we walked.
It was evident these were spaced at almost regular intervals, roughly fifty to seventy-five
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yards apart.
I then noticed how much more thoughtful and quiet my father had become.
He gave us the signal to stay quiet with a frequency nearing being constant.
He was watchful and very on guard.
I did not see that behavior for what it was.
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In my mind he was just on the hunt and was being quiet.
And that was correct.
He was hunting, but not the usual game, and not anything that I believe he would intend
to bring back for the family freezer.
Only later would I learn.
He had a reason for this caution, a reason I was unaware of.
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We walked slow and silent, the broken trees marking the trail.
I knew this was the point that we usually left off this trail and headed into the denser
forest that lay near the dead river.
And yes, that is what it's really called, dead river.
But my father continued on, and I didn't question him.
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He had been hunting these lands since he was a boy.
We turned, and we headed in a northeasterly direction for a while, came to a dirt road, crossed
that, then we turned south, and we followed the dead river until we could cross it at a shallow
place that I had never seen before.
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And it was here that I saw sight I had never seen before.
There were two very large X's of trees bent over the trail, with others pushed into the
ground dotting the sides of the trail, the way some of us line our sidewalks with lights.
These were trees that had looked to have been pulled up completely, broken off, then jammed
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into the ground upside down.
I had never seen such a thing.
I couldn't imagine how someone could manage such a thing.
Of course, only later would I come to understand that someone didn't do that.
Something did.
We had a quick huddle on the trail, and my father told us to make ready with our pistols.
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Yes, we carried them for defense when we hunted.
He told us to stay absolutely quiet.
When he said he was going to scout up maybe a hundred two hundred yards further up the trail,
but he wanted us to remain there.
My brother and I protested loudly.
I was unsure of what was going on, and I wasn't even sure that something really was going
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on.
But my instincts were twisting my gut up at the thought of any of us being separated.
I had had no feelings of alarm until that moment.
My brother felt the same way, and he said so.
Then he made a joke about, "Hey dad, this is how scary movies start, you know?
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People start separating."
No one laughed.
My father looked at me in particular and said, "Okay, I'm going to level with you.
I think there's a very dangerous creature here, but it's usually only out at night and
sleeps during the day.
When I trust that you will stay silent and do what I tell you," he asked, I nodded and said,
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"Yes, of course."
He looked at my brother and asked him the same thing, and my brother too answered, "Yes."
I started to ask, "What kind of creature?"
But my dad gave me a look that said, "Be quiet."
And he looked at me with a death stare like I was already breaking my promise.
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But I felt silent, still not saying a word when my father stopped, and pulled me in front
of my brother, so I would be between them.
I was a little miffed about that, believing that I was almost grown up, and that I could take
care of myself no matter what.
But in reality, I was not.
I was barely five foot four on a tall day, and I weighed 140 pounds.
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And before you come at me for being overweight, just know I was mostly muscle at that point,
but I still would have been no match for what I came to find out was out there.
So we walked a little bit down the trail, with the trees standing upright all along, and
I could see little other than my father's back.
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He was walking slowly, picking his way carefully you could say.
As we walked, I had a million questions, because by now I knew this was not normal behavior
for my father.
For starters, he was moving in stealth mode, yet here we were, out in the open on a trail.
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Later I would understand it was because he wasn't ready to go off trail at that point.
He knew things lurked in the trees.
Things I was not aware of.
At one point my dad stopped, and stepped just to the right of the trail quickly, over by
some brush, and he gave us the signal to get low.
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We all moved quickly together, and did the same.
I was truly ignorant of just what we were in the middle of, and I actually found it all
a little exciting.
Being stealthy, being told there was a dangerous creature possibly nearby.
All these unusual movements, all the secrecy, and now we were in an area that I had never
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been in before.
But only later, once again, would I come to know why our family avoided this area.
I crouched behind my father, waiting and listening.
Somewhere ahead I heard the crack of wood, like it was splintering.
Then there was an immediate loud popping crack as it gave way.
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I felt a chill when I thought, whoever or whatever was breaking these trees, was just up ahead
somewhere.
I tried to lean around my father to look ahead on the trail, but he turned and gave me a silent
death-stair.
He balled his hand into a fist, which was his sign to hold your position.
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I settled back in place behind him.
We stayed in that crouched position long enough that my knees began to ache, and parts of my
bent legs were going to sleep.
During that time we heard one more tree crack and pop.
After that it was silent for several minutes.
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As we waited, a light rain began to fall steadily.
Finally, after several more minutes of silence, my father stood up slowly.
When I stood up, I had the uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in my legs as the blood
flow returned.
We turned to head back in the direction of the dead river.
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When my father stopped on the trail once again, an abruptly changed direction to walk ninety
degrees from our previous position.
That put us walking further south, almost parallel to a run of trees that followed the dead river,
but running more southern in the direction, further from our entry point across the river.
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Dad stepped just inside the trees and we followed.
I could make no heads or tails out of what was going on, but something had my dad on edge,
and it was like he was zigzagging back and forth, looking for something.
And it began to feel more and more like a military recon mission than hunting or even
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scouting for hunting.
Another hundred yards may be of walking parallel to the river, and we come to a semi-open
area and a creek.
In that area we had to pick our way carefully through.
There were numerous fingers of water coming from the river and the creek, and there were
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some standing pools of water.
Sometimes you'd start to put your foot down, and you would have to pull back because the
ground felt more like water than ground, and you'd have to test another place to walk.
The entire time my father was looking up, down and around, everywhere carefully, all
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while continually signaling for silence every minute or so.
Then he turned his direction to follow some scrub, maybe fifty yards north, all the while
keeping his eyes on the forest of trees that began again on the other side of the pools
of water.
The stench of rotting meat suddenly hung heavy in the air, made worse by the rain.
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I had a vision at my head of the rain, washing the stench down out of the air, and pushing
it into my hair and clothes everywhere that the rain hit me.
Truthfully, I guess I wasn't too far off, I would still smell that rotting meat stench on
my clothes later when we went home.
At one point passed the pool of water, there was another line of scrubs, and the trees that
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bridged the one we had been skirting against, and the opposite one that my father had been
watching.
In essence, we had made a shallow flanking maneuver.
The closer we got to that other tree line, the stronger the smell of the rotting meat stench,
and very soon we saw why.
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Just inside the line of trees that we had worked so hard to silently flank, there were piles
and piles of bones with varying degrees of meat, hide and blood still on them.
Most had been picked clean, but there was enough clinging to some of the bones that they had
begun to decay.
I can't imagine what it would have smelled like in the summer.
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I had a moment of clarity, and then it chill of fear when I saw something in the pile of
bones nearest to me.
I saw what I knew was the skull of a bear, probably a black bear.
One of my uncles had gotten a bear a few years back.
It's bleached white skull still hung on the back of the house, along with some deer elk
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and some other animals.
The chill came when I realized whatever made these piles of bones took out a bear, and
I didn't know what that could be up in Michigan.
My father dropped to a low position again and gave the silent signal.
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This time I was on a diagonal behind him, so I could see up ahead.
Up ahead where the sunlight was breaking in through the trees on the edge near the first
pool of water, I saw something moving.
I blinked my eyes again and again, squinted and looked again, unsure of what it was I was
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looking at.
There was a large creature shaped like a person with arms and legs in a head.
It was covered in black hair.
The arms were long, but still came to just below the hip.
Its arms were still much longer than ours because its torso was much longer than ours.
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When it turned and walked a few steps, I realized two things at once.
It was female, and it wasn't alone.
There was a smaller version of it standing near it.
The female held out a hand, and the small one reached out, and in one fluid movement
they both worked together to swing the young one up and around, where it wrapped itself
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around the females back and held on.
If the chill of fear had not already taken hold in my gut, it went off the charts when I
realized she had turned and was now walking directly toward us.
There was nowhere we could go, and even if there was, there was nowhere we could go that
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we wouldn't be seeing getting there.
My eyes flicked over to that bare skull again, and although I wasn't sure what was coming
toward us, I had the feeling it was best if we were not seeing.
I looked at my father, but he stayed perfectly still for a few moments anyway.
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I imagine he was considering the best options as well.
The creature came to within about ten yards of us, and my father suddenly stood up, his
gun drawn.
Me and my brother followed suit, and stood up, guns drawn.
So now we ran a stair down.
I could feel my heart beating out of my chest.
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I didn't know how we'd gotten here, and how it had spiraled so far out of control.
I was terrified, yet I must confess also a little exhilarated.
When it saw us, it stopped immediately.
At this distance I saw more of this creature.
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To me it had an ugly, fearsome face.
Though it made no sound, I am sure I could see its jaw working, sort of like it was chewing
gum.
Later, when comparing notes, my father said he thought it was grinding its teeth.
If I was unable to appreciate its full size before, I certainly could now.
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I wasn't good at guessing height, but it was much taller than either my dad or my brother,
and my brother was bigger, taller, and more muscular than my dad, coming in at six feet
one inches, and he ranged anywhere from two-ten to two-twenty pounds.
But he was a nat compared to the heft and muscle of this female before us.
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All three of us could have jumped her, and I believe she could have flung us off of her
quite easily.
And she would have sent us flying from her like little bitty kids getting flung off the
merry-go-round when some mean teenager starts whipping it up to high speed.
I believe it's called centrifugal force.
Yes, we would have went flying like kids from a merry-go-round.
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Although I had my nine-millimeter pistol that my grandfather had given me years before,
I would have preferred the compound bow that was slung on my back.
I was more comfortable with a bow, and I was strangely more accurate, and I also felt
that the bow would have been deadlier.
Fling at this massive mound of fur, flesh, and muscle, that was only twenty-five or thirty
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feet away from me, I felt like I might as well have been holding a nerf gun.
The big female sort of put her head down, and she let out a low, rattling exhale that sounded
like a cross between a perr and a growl.
I saw all the sides of her mouth lift up and down like a chitter, and then I saw a little
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ivory of her teeth here and there.
That perr was taking on the form of a snarl.
My father very quietly told me and my brother to back up, and walk quickly back the way we
came.
He stressed, "Don't run."
But there was nothing more I wanted to do than run.
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I felt my brother grab my arm, turn me around, and then he shoved me forward in front of him.
"Go!" I heard him hiss in my ear.
So I went.
I looked back, and my father had only taken a few steps backwards.
That my brother kept pushing me forward, so hard that at one point I fell forward and had
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to quickly pick myself up.
When I got back up, I saw that we were to the bridge of trees where we had came in to
flank that creature.
I looked back, but I could not see my father.
I thought he was following us.
Once we got into the bridge of trees, my brother told me to run.
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I started to argue, but he started yelling at me.
So I ran.
I ran, honestly, faster than I think I have ever ran in my life.
I don't think I ran that fast when I ran track in high school.
We ran through the bridge of trees, and into the connecting forest of trees on the other
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side passed the pool of water.
I kept looking for my father again and again, and panic rose when I did not see him.
My heart sank, thinking that we had left him behind, and that he was now being eaten alive
by the big female, and that by nightfall you would be his bones on one of those heaps.
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I wanted to cry, but I was running too hard, and I didn't dare start crying.
Just as we were almost to the creek that intersected the dead river, I heard a shot fire, then
another.
We stopped and looked back to see my father come running out of the tree's opposite of
us.
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He went straight through the pools of water.
One was rather shallow, about mid-caff deep, and he could run right through it with no trouble.
But the next pool, that was more like mid-thigh deep, and he plunged down into it just as
the big female came out in the open.
She was gaining on him fast.
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My father turned, and he fired once again.
But he hit her that time.
She let out a scream unlike anything I had heard before or since, and I have searched the
internet high and low, and I have found nothing like it.
She let out that scream, and began to veer in a wide arc to turn around, and she headed
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right back into the safety of the trees.
We met my father as he came out of the water.
Before we could say anything, he was telling us to keep going to run.
Go back like we came, he said.
Right after the female let out her scream, we heard a roar echo out through the trees.
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One look at my dad's face, I thought he was going to crap himself.
And let me tell you what is the most scary thing ever.
When the person that you've looked up to your whole life, the one you thought could fight
a lion bear handed and win.
When you look at that person, and you see fear on his face, I promise you, that's a fear
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in a class of its own.
We ran all the way back to where we crossed the dead river, only stopping to catch our
breath on the other side for just a moment.
Then continuing in a brisk pace, checking behind us frequently as we went.
Now everything up to that point had been both a blur, and had happened in slow motion
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with perfect clarity.
I had a thousand questions, but dad didn't have to tell me to still be quiet.
I stayed quiet until we made it back to Grandpa Bobby's.
Somewhere along the way we discovered that each of us had lost or dropped some very important
gear.
Me?
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I have no recollection of having tossed my precious compound bow down, but I did.
My brother told me that when dad told us to run, I was already in motion of putting my
gun back in the thigh case and had reached for my bow off my back.
But when my dad yelled at us, and my brother grabbed me, he said I threw it down in panic
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as I turned to run.
I have absolutely no memory of that at all, none.
It's been over twenty-two years of thinking on it, and I still can't find one shred of
a memory of it.
But I had done just that.
I had thrown down my precious and prized bow right there in a pile of bones.
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It was pure pandemonium when we made it back to Grandpa Bobby's.
I don't think I could speak coherently for half an hour or more.
I had a strong desire to be inside, to be behind the locked steel door.
I wanted more defenses between me and the outside world that I now knew harbored, frightening
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things such as that, that, that what was it?
I had to ask myself that question, but deep down I did know what it was.
But again I prided myself on being reasonable, logical, and in a reasonable and logical world,
things like Sasquatches do not exist, except they do, and I had just seen a female one, and
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I suppose a young one.
There is so much more backstory to all of this, that I hardly knew where to begin this
email.
Even now I'm not sure how to fit it all in.
See, when my dad was growing up, him and one of his brothers had ventured that far over
the dead river into that exact area when they were just teenagers.
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They had ran into a large nest of those very Sasquatches.
At the time, dad said there were several adults, and at least as many young ones, they had walked
right into their nest, not knowing they were there.
Now most of the males were down, sleeping.
The females, however, were up and tending to the young ones on the other side of the nesting
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area.
This was a scenario not so different from ours, in that when they spotted each other, everyone
froze, human, and Sasquatches.
Now the difference for my dad and his brother was that there were two very large males awake,
alert, and on the defense.
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One of the males, my father said, he thought, was much older, probably elderly.
He had gray in his fur, and he was more stooped, and he moved a little slower, much the way
an old human moves.
Now, my dad and his brother had rifles with them at the time.
It was late spring, but they took them for protection against bears, which were far more
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numerous back then, and they did have to make use of those rifles to make their getaway.
They swore they would never go back across the dead river to the south again, and they
hadn't.
But they found out that a few of their older relatives did after that.
You see, those relatives had heard the boy's story, and it brought up other stories and other
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experiences that they personally had had.
And together, they banded together and decided they were going to wipe the nest of Sasquatches
out.
I don't know the full story, and truthfully neither does dad.
All he knows is that summer and autumn, there was a serious battle going on.
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By winter, they each kept to their side of the dead river, and it had mostly stayed that
way all these years, and after several years, everyone seemed to believe that they had
either been wiped out, or the Sasquatches had moved on from that area.
But over the recent summer, when dad had been up there on those poker weekends, they heard
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some things.
In the night, they heard strange yells echoing through the forests.
Dad woke up and he knew what he was hearing.
But they didn't go seek them out, not then.
They didn't have any hunting things with them.
Then when the autumn hunting started, there were more sounds that everyone was hearing, people
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in the family who didn't even believe in Sasquatches.
Then one of my male cousins, a younger one, swore that he ran into a bigfoot up near
the river.
Someone had a good laugh at him, except my dad and his brothers.
The tree breaks.
Those were something my father said he hadn't seen since he was a teenager.
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The very same year that they found that nest Sasquatches across the dead river, and they
saw them all the way leading up to the nest.
Now earlier in the summer, one of my cousins, not the one that saw the bigfoot, well he
had mentioned in passing about trees being broken, and that he saw some trees cross like
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X's.
A alarm did hearing that.
My father asked him where.
But my cousin's description had been vague.
He had walked all over that day.
After a lot of consideration, my father said that he knew he needed to know if the Sasquatches
were back.
His plan had been to go out on his own, to scout around and have a look back where they
(32:55):
used to be, to see if they were really back.
But something changed the day that we all went out together.
I don't think that dad planned it to happen the way it did.
We did want to explore some areas that we hadn't hunted, and he really didn't realize how
close we were to them.
(33:15):
A lot of the terrain had changed in the time since he was a teenager, and he hadn't been
there since then.
In his mind, their nest was much further to the south than where we were.
And for all we know, maybe it had been at one time.
Maybe they had moved their nest closer and adjusted because of the creek, river, and other
(33:39):
terrain changes.
Now when we heard those tree cracks on the main trail, dad changed course believing we were
about to run into one, and we might very well have.
I think the male or a couple males doing those tree breaks up ahead are who roared back when
the female screamed when she was shot.
(34:01):
Of course, diverting our course away from what we think were the males only put us unknowingly
much closer to the actual nest.
You know, my dad has beat himself up a lot over this.
When we came out where the creek met the river, and we ran into the pools of water, he said
(34:22):
that he had a strong sense of both recognition and deja vu altogether.
He says he should have known, and he should have turned back right then.
But he didn't for some reason.
He said he felt compelled to go forward.
Instead we ended up walking into a Sasquatch nest, and in particular, into their piles
(34:45):
of cast-off bones at the edge of the nest.
You know, I think about those bones that I saw in those piles.
I only had a few glances, but it was enough.
Yes, there were some smaller bones from smaller animals, but I saw larger bones as well.
Dear elk and bear.
(35:07):
Both my father and my brother also saw the bear skull, and it wasn't a small one.
But what I really think about is the other bones that I saw.
Bones that make me chill up when I think about them late at night.
I saw them femurs, tibias, humerus, large rib cages.
(35:29):
These looked very human.
Only much larger.
So I think they do eat their dead.
Another thing is that almost all of the bones I saw had been cracked open and the marrow sucked
out.
These creatures really frightened me.
(35:49):
I still haven't told you all that happened when dad stared down the female after we ran.
I literally have forgotten trying to fit it in with everything else.
But the quick version is, she pulled the small one off her back and said it down.
Dad knew then she was preparing to fight.
That's when he ran, and fired a couple shots in her direction blindly.
(36:12):
But his aim was off while he was running.
But he did get her on the third shot.
We all agree on that.
That's when we saw him come out from the trees, and her come out in the open too.
There's even more with a lot more finer details that are all interwoven.
But truthfully, I am tired of typing.
(36:33):
This has been about two days worth, and I keep going over it and putting more and more in.
This is so long, I did not think it would be this long.
I now live in Duluth, Minnesota, and I do still hunt.
I'm just much more cautious.
I have never seen another tree break again.
(36:54):
I've never seen an X of trees either, or any upside down trees.
But if I did, I would turn around immediately.
And I would advise you to do the same as well.
Those tree breaks and those upside down trees, they're markers and warnings, territory
(37:14):
markers in particular.
They mean stay away.
I'm sorry, there is more, but I just can't type anymore.
Signed Pamela H. Duluth, Minnesota.
[BLANK_AUDIO]
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