July 23, 2025 • 32 mins
In this episode, Bill—a retired forest ranger—shares his full, unedited account of six encounters that changed the course of his 25-year career with the U.S. Forest Service. From 1994 to 2019, Bill worked in wildlife tracking and wilderness patrol, but early on, a senior ranger showed him a footprint and warned him about things they don’t put in reports. That moment marked the beginning of a quiet obsession. He eventually left the job five years before qualifying for full pension. What drove him out was a long trail of unexplained phenomena—patterns he could no longer ignore, and stories the agency refused to acknowledge. His encounters span decades and locations, from Oregon to the Adirondacks, each one revealing signs of intelligence, curiosity, and restraint from something that doesn’t officially exist.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Today, I want to tell you about a journey that
I've been on for most of my life. Ever since
I was a kid, I've heard tales of bigfoot and
wild men while spending time with my friends and family.
As I grew older and read more about the paranormal,
my interest in encryptids and other things strange only deepened.
That's why I'm so excited to share with you what
I've personally become involved with the Untold Radio Network. The
(00:21):
Untold Radio Network is a live streaming podcast network that
airs a new show every day across all podcast platforms, YouTube,
and more. They have eight different shows on all sorts
of exciting topics such as bigfoot, cryptids, UFOs, aliens, and
much more. I even have my own show called Weird Encounters,
where I talk about all things strange. This is more
(00:42):
than just a podcast network. It's a community that allows
me to meet so many amazing people who share their
stories and experiences with strange. If you're interested in hearing
more of these stories and learning more about the paranormal
and encryptids, make sure you check out the Untold Radio
Network for all kinds of exciting shows. It's free to subscribe.
So what are you waiting for visit www dot untold
(01:04):
radionetwork dot com today.
Speaker 2 (01:06):
Now, what are your reporting? I got a screen going
on here. Something just kid with my dog, something to
kill your dog? My dog. We're flying through there over
the tree. I don't know how it did it? Okay, damn,
I'm really confused. All I saw was my dog coming
over the fence and name was dead once you hit
the grill. I didn't see any cars. All I saw
was my dog coming over the fence. Sat, what are
(01:45):
you reporting? We got some wonder or something crawling around
out here? Did you see what it was? It was
enough out here. Look, I'm near the window now and
I don't need anything. I don't want to go outside.
Its hello, hit the boddy out here? What quen? I'm
(02:12):
out there? It's thought of a mention about text nine.
I don't know easy, I'm out there. Yeah, I'm walking right, heady.
Speaker 1 (02:19):
My name's Bill, and I just retired after twenty five
years with the Forest Service. Spent most of that time
in the deep woods of the Pacific Northwest, but also
worked assignments in Montana, Alaska, Colorado, and a few other places.
I've seen a lot of things in those woods that
most people never will Some of them I can explain. Others, well,
(02:40):
let me tell you what happened, and you can decide
for yourself. I'm telling these stories because I'm done worrying
about what people think. I've got my pension, my cabin,
and nothing left to prove. These things happened to me,
all of them. And if you think I'm lying or crazy,
that's your business. But I know what I saw and
I know what I experienced. This was early in my career,
(03:04):
maybe my second year on the job. I was stationed
at a remote outpost on the Olympic Peninsula, one of
those places where you might not see another person for weeks.
The job was mostly firewatch and basic maintenance, but in
late fall of seventy eight, I had an experience that
changed how I looked at the forest. I was working
a night shift, doing routine patrols on some of the
(03:25):
back roads. It was around two a m. When I
decided to check on a small ranger cabin about eight
miles from the main station. The cabin was used by
researchers sometimes, but it had been empty for weeks. When
I got there, something felt wrong. The front door was
standing wide open, which wasn't normal. I parked the truck
(03:46):
and grabbed my flashlight and radio. The cabin looked fine
from the outside, but when I stepped inside, I could
smell something, not like garbage or decay, more like wet animal,
strong and thick, like when you walk past at a
zoo exhibit. I called out, thinking maybe someone had broken in.
No answer. I checked all the rooms with my flashlight.
(04:08):
Everything was where it should be, nothing missing or damaged.
But the smell was getting stronger, and I started hearing
something moving around outside. I went back to the front
door and listened heavy footsteps, but not like boots, more
like bare feet, but way too heavy for a person.
The steps went around the cabin, slow and deliberate, like
(04:30):
whatever it was was checking the place out. I stood
in that doorway for maybe ten minutes, listening to those
footsteps circle the building. Then they stopped right behind the cabin,
and I heard a sound I'll never forget. It was
like someone clearing their throat, but deeper, much deeper, and
loud enough that I felt it in my chest. I
(04:51):
decided to investigate. Stupid, probably, but I was young and
thought I could handle anything. I walked around the back
of the cabin with my flashlight, expecting to find a
bear or maybe some drunk hiker. What I found was
a set of footprints in the dirt behind the cabin.
They were huge, had to be eighteen inches long, maybe more.
(05:12):
They looked human, but the size was impossible. I could
see tow impressions, the heel of the foot, everything, but
they were deeper than any human print would be. Whatever
made these definitely weighed way more than a person. I
followed the trail for maybe twenty yards before it disappeared
on rocky ground. But I'd seen enough. I went back
(05:33):
to my truck and got out of there. Never filed
a report about it, just marked the cabin as secure
and moved on. But I went back the next week,
had to see if those prints were still there. They were,
and there were more of them. It looked like something
had been visiting that cabin regularly, walking around it, maybe
looking in the windows. I never spent another night alone
(05:55):
at that outpost without thinking about those footprints, and I
never went back to that cabin after dark. In nineteen
eighty seven, I got assigned to a research project in Alaska.
I was supposed to spend six weeks at a remote
station helping with a wildlife survey. The station was about
forty miles from the nearest road, supplied by helicopter once
(06:16):
a month. Beautiful country, but isolated in a way that
could get to you if you weren't careful. I was
there alone most of the time, just me and all
the monitoring equipment. Radio contact with the outside world twice
a day, but otherwise complete silence. The work was routine,
checking instruments, recording data, maintaining the equipment. About three weeks
(06:40):
in I started noticing that my equipment was being moved,
not damaged, just repositioned. I'd place a camera in one spot,
come back a week later and find it twenty feet away,
still functioning, still recording, just moved. At first I figured
it was bears. They're curious animals, and I'll investigate anything
(07:01):
new in their territory. But bears don't relocate equipment carefully.
They knock it over, maybe chew on it, but they
don't move it intact. I decided to review the footage
from the cameras see if I could figure out what
was moving them. What I found on those recordings still
gives me chills. There was something out there, something big
(07:21):
and covered in dark fur, walking upright like a person,
but way too large to be human. The footage showed
it approaching my cameras, sniffing them, picking them up, and
examining them like a curious animal might. But what got
to me was how careful it was. Bears will bat
at things, knock them around. This creature handled my equipment
(07:42):
like it understood it was fragile. It would pick up
a camera, turn it over, smell it, then set it
down somewhere else. Over the next two weeks, I captured
more footage. The creature was around the station almost every night.
It would investigate everything, my supply, cash, my equipment, even
my WISTE disposal area, like it was trying to understand
(08:03):
what I was doing there. The thing was massive. Even
on the grainy footage, I could tell it had to
be eight feet tall, maybe more. The shoulders were enormous
and the arms hung down almost to its knees. But
it moved quietly, carefully, like it was being deliberate about
not damaging anything. I never felt directly threatened, but knowing
(08:25):
something that large was watching me every night, studying my routines,
that changed how I felt about being alone in the wilderness.
I started keeping my rifle closer, even though I wasn't
sure bullets would do much good against something that size.
When my assignment ended, I packed up everything and never
looked back. I kept copies of the footage, but I
(08:45):
never showed them to anyone. The quality wasn't great, and
most of it just showed a large, dark shape moving
around in the darkness. I requested transfer back to the
Lower forty eight after that assignment. Told my supervisors I
didn't like the isolation, which was true, but not for
the reasons they thought. In nineteen ninety five, I was
(09:06):
working in the bitter Root National Forest in Montana, beautiful country,
but remote and wild. I was doing a routine patrol
in late October when I came across a hunting camp
that had been abandoned in a hurry. The camp was
set up properly, good location, well organized, all the right equipment,
but everything was just left there, tents still standing, gear
(09:29):
scattered around, food left out like the hunters had dropped
everything and ran. I found the hunters about a mile away,
holed up in their truck on a forest road. Three
guys from back East experienced hunters, but new to the
Western Mountains. They were pretty shaken up. Said they'd had
to abandon their camp because of dangerous wildlife. It took
(09:50):
some talking to get the full story out of them.
They'd been camped in that spot for two days, having
good luck with elk, but on their second night they
started he hearing things that didn't belong, trees being broken,
loud crashes echoing through the forest. The oldest hunter, a
guy named Frank, said it sounded like someone was clearing
land with heavy machinery, but they were eight miles from
(10:13):
the nearest road, no way to get equipment into that area.
When they investigated in the morning, they found trees that
had been broken off about eight feet from the ground.
Not cut down, broken snapped like twigs. These were mature furs,
six and eight inches across. Whatever broke them had to
be incredibly strong. Frank had been logging before he retired,
(10:35):
and he said it would take a machine to break
trees that size, but there were no tire tracks, no
signs of machinery. The second night, they heard something moving
around their camp. Heavy footsteps, but careful and deliberate, like
something large was walking around their tents, checking them out.
They stayed inside and waited for morning. When they emerged,
(10:58):
they found footprints all around their camp. Frank showed me
photos he'd taken with the disposable camera. The prints were enormous,
clearly showing tow impressions and the shape of a human foot,
but way too big for any person. But what really
spooked them was what they found at their truck. They'd
parked it about a quarter mile from camp, thinking it
would be safer there. When they checked on it the
(11:20):
next morning, something had been examining it. There were large
handprints on the windows and body panels, like something had
been pressing against the glass trying to see inside. Frank
said the handprints were huge, much larger than human hands,
but they showed finger impressions, thumbs, everything you'd expect from
a hand, just impossibly large. The third night, they didn't
(11:44):
wait around to see what would happen. They packed up
their essential gear and hiked out to their truck in
the dark, leaving most of their equipment behind. I went
back to their campsite after talking to them. Everything was
just as they described. Broken trees, footprints, gear left scattered around,
and stay tuned for more Sasquatch ott to see We'll
(12:05):
be right back. After these messages, the footprints were deep
and clear, showing details that convinced me these weren't fake.
I took some photos and measurements, but I never filed
an official report. What was I going to say that
some unknown creature had harassed hunters and left impossible footprints.
(12:27):
I kept the documentation, but it stayed in my personal files.
The hunters never came back to Montana. Frank sent me
a letter a few months later saying they decided to
stick to hunting closer to home. Can't say I blame them.
I was doing a training assignment in Colorado in two
thousand and three, working with rangers in the Roosevelt National Forest.
(12:48):
That's where I met a family who'd had an experience
that still bothers me when I think about it. They
were from Denver, mother, father, teenage daughter, experienced campers who'd
been visiting the now National Forests for years. They came
to our office after a backcountry camping trip, asking if
we'd had any reports of unusual wildlife activity in the
(13:09):
area they'd been visiting. The father was an engineer, very
methodical guy. He laid out their story like he was
giving a technical presentation. They'd been camping near a remote
lake three days and two nights in an area where
they didn't see another person the whole time. First two
days were perfect, good weather, nice fishing, saw the usual wildlife.
(13:31):
The daughter was into photography and had been taking pictures constantly,
documenting everything from wildflowers to wildlife. On their last night,
they were sitting around the campfire when they heard something
moving in the forest across the lake. Heavy sounds, like
something large was walking through the trees, but not random
like an animal foraging, more purposeful, like it was patrolling
(13:54):
or searching for something. The father scanned the tree line
with a flashlight but couldn't see anything. The sounds continued
for maybe an hour, something moving through the forest, stopping occasionally,
then moving again. Sometimes they could hear branches breaking, like
whatever it was didn't care about moving quietly. Then they
smelled it. The mother described it as like a zoo
(14:17):
on a hot day, thick and musky. The smell got
stronger as whatever was out there got closer to their camp.
It was so strong it made them gag. The daughter
had been experimenting with the night vision setting on her
camera and she managed to get one shot of something
standing at the tree line. The image showed a massive
figure covered in dark hair, standing upright between two pine trees,
(14:40):
maybe sixty yards from their camp. The thing was huge,
had to be at least seven feet tall, with shoulders
that looked impossibly broad. It was just standing there, and
in the night vision image you could see it was
looking toward their camp, not moving, just watching them. They
hiked out that night five mi aisles of rough trail
(15:01):
by flashlight. Said they'd rather risk getting lost than spend
another hour in that place with something that size watching
them from the darkness. The father brought the camera to
our office and showed me the image. The night vision
made everything look greenish, but you could clearly see it
wasn't any normal animal. The proportions were all wrong, too tall,
(15:22):
too broad, arms that hung down too far. What got
to me was thinking about how long it might have
been watching them before they noticed the way it was
positioned in the trees, perfectly still just observing their camp
like a predator studying prey, but without any apparent intention
to attack. The family stopped backcountry camping after that experience.
(15:45):
They still visit the National forests, but only in developed
campgrounds where there are other people around. Can't say I
blame them. I kept a copy of that photo. I
look at it sometimes, trying to make sense of what
I'm seeing. The quality isn't grey, but there's definitely something there,
something that shouldn't exist. By twenty ten, I was working
(16:06):
special assignments, and that summer I got sent to investigate
complaints about aggressive wildlife in the North Cascades. A research
station had been having problems with equipment being destroyed and
researchers being intimidated by what they described as unusually large
and bold bears. The station was only accessible by helicopter,
(16:27):
about fifteen miles from the nearest trail. When I arrived,
I could see why the researchers were concerned. Equipment had
been damaged all around the facility, not randomly destroyed, but
systematically dismantled. Solar panels had been ripped off their mounts,
weather instruments had been pulled apart, and supply containers had
been opened and their contents scattered. But this wasn't bear damage.
(16:50):
Bears tear things apart looking for food, and they leave
claw marks and bite marks. This looked more like something
had been taking equipment apart, piece by piece, exam how
it was constructed. I spent two weeks at the station
documenting the damage and trying to establish patterns. The destruction
always happened at night, and it was getting more aggressive.
(17:11):
Whatever was doing this seemed to be escalating its behavior.
On my third night, I found out why. Around two am,
I heard something moving around outside the station. Heavy footsteps
but too deliberate for a bear. I watched from the
window as a massive figure approached the facility. It was enormous,
(17:32):
easily eight feet tall, with a frame that looked like
it could weigh five hundred pounds, covered in thick, dark hair,
and moving with surprising agility for something so large, and
it was clearly agitated about something. The creature went straight
to the equipment I'd set up earlier that day, motion
sensors and recording devices. It didn't just destroy them randomly.
(17:53):
It systematically dismantled each piece, examining it briefly, then throwing
the parts away with obvie frustration. I watched for over
an hour as it methodically destroyed everything I'd brought to
the station. But what scared me was the intelligence behind
its actions. This wasn't random vandalism. It was targeted destruction
of specific equipment, like it understood what each device was
(18:17):
for and didn't want to be monitored. When it finished
with my equipment, it turned its attention to the station itself.
It began testing the structural supports, pushing against the walls,
examining the roof attachments, like it was deciding whether to
demolish the entire facility. That's when I realized what was happening.
The research station had been built in this creature's territory,
(18:40):
and it was trying to drive away the human intruders.
The systematic equipment destruction wasn't random, it was a message.
I packed up and left the next morning, recommending that
the station be relocated. In my report, I cited unstable
geological conditions as the reason for the recommendation. The real
reas and would have gotten me laughed out of the
(19:01):
Forest Service. The station was eventually abandoned after researchers continued
to report equipment problems in what they described as intimidation
behavior from local wildlife. Last I heard, the area had
been designated as sensitive habitat and was off limits to
research activities. Sometimes territorial animals will defend their space against
(19:22):
human intrusion. Usually that means bears or mountain lions. But
what I observed that night was something much larger and
more intelligent, defending its territory the only way it knew how,
by making human presence impossible to maintain. I was working
a temporary assignment in Kentucky in twenty fifteen, helping with
(19:42):
fire management planning in the Daniel Boone National Forest. That's
where I met Tom, a state police officer who'd been
patrolling the rural areas around the forest for over fifteen years.
Tom came to our office one morning, looking like he
hadn't slept. Said he needed to talk to someone about
an incident from the night before, but he wasn't sure
how to classify it. When I asked what kind of incident,
(20:05):
he said I needed to hear the whole story before
I'd believe it. He'd been patrolling State Route eighty, one
of those winding mountain roads that cuts through some of
the most remote areas of eastern Kentucky. It was around
three a m. When his headlights caught something standing in
the middle of the road about fifty yards ahead. At first,
he thought it was a person, maybe someone whose car
(20:26):
had broken down, but as he got closer he realized
whatever it was was much too large to be human.
It was standing upright on two legs, but it had
to be at least eight feet tall, with shoulders that
looked impossibly broad. Tom stopped his patrol car and turned
on his spotlight. What he saw made him reach for
his radio, but they were in a dead zone where
(20:48):
the mountains blocked the signal. He was on his own.
The thing in the road was covered in thick, dark
hair and built like nothing he'd ever seen. The arms
hung down almost to its knees, and the head was assive,
much larger than a human head. But it was looking
directly at his patrol car, studying it like it was
trying to decide what to do. Tom said, the most
(21:09):
unsettling thing was how intelligent it looked. This wasn't some
mindless animal. It was clearly thinking, evaluating the situation, and
it didn't seem afraid of the patrol car or the spotlight.
For maybe five minutes, they just looked at each other,
Tom sitting in his car, this massive creature standing in
the road. Then it did something that convinced Tom he
(21:32):
was dealing with something beyond his experience. It stepped to
the side of the road and gestured for him to pass,
not like a person would gesture, but a clear indication
that it was moving out of the way. Tom drove
passed slowly, and the creature watched him the entire time.
In his rear view mirror, he could see it step
back into the road after he'd passed. Tom drove to
(21:54):
the nearest area with radio coverage and called for backup,
but by the time another unit arrived, there was There's
nothing there, no footprints on the asphalt, no evidence that
anything had happened. But Tom knew what he'd seen. He'd
been a police officer for fifteen years, trained to observe
and evaluate threats. What he'd encountered wasn't a bear standing
(22:15):
on its hind legs or a person in a costume.
It was something that belonged in those mountains, something that
understood human behavior well enough to recognize a police car
and respond appropriately. The thing that bothered Tom most was
how the creature had handled the encounter. No aggression, no fear,
just calm evaluation and accommodation like it was used to
(22:38):
dealing with humans and knew how to avoid conflict. Tom
never patrolled that stretch of road alone again. He requested
reassignment to areas closer to town, saying he preferred community
policing to rural patrol work. But he told me the
real reason he didn't want another encounter with something that
was clearly more intelligent than any animal had a right
(22:59):
to be. I kept in touch with Tom for a
few years after that assignment. He eventually transferred to a
different department, taking a job in urban law enforcement, where
the biggest wildlife concern was stray dogs. Said he'd had
enough of the mountains and whatever lived in them. During
a training program in Michigan in twenty seventeen, I met
a fishing guide named Mike who'd been working the remote
(23:22):
lakes and rivers of the Upper Peninsula for over twenty years.
Mike was the kind of guy who knew every creek
in Beaver Pond within one hundred miles, someone who'd spent
more nights alone in the wilderness than most people spend indoors.
But Mike came to our office that summer with a
story that had clearly shaken him. He'd been guiding clients
on a multi day fishing trip in one of the
(23:43):
most remote areas of the Ottawa National Forest when they'd
encountered something that made him question everything he thought he
knew about the local wildlife. The trip was supposed to
be five days of fishing on a series of connected
lakes that required a two day hike just to reach
and stay tuned for more sasquatch ott to see we'll
be right back after these messages. Mike had been using
(24:10):
the area for years without incident. It was perfect for
clients who wanted to fish waters that hadn't seen much
pressure from other anglers. On their third night, they were
camped on a small island in the middle of the
largest lake. Mike had chosen the spot because it offered
good fishing and natural protection from bears and other wildlife.
What he didn't expect was something that could swim around. Midnight,
(24:34):
Mike was awakened by the sound of something moving through
the water around their island. At first, he thought it
might be a moose. They're strong swimmers and not uncommon
in that area, but the swimming pattern was too regular,
too purposeful. Mike looked out from his tent and saw
something in the water. A massive figure was swimming toward
their island with powerful, steady strokes, too large to be human,
(24:57):
but moving through the water with more skill than any
animal he'd ever seen. The creature reached the shallow water
around the island and stood up. Even in the poor light,
Mike could see it was enormous, at least eight feet tall,
with a frame that looked powerful enough to break trees.
It was covered in thick, dark hair that seemed to
shed water like an animal's coat. For the next hour,
(25:19):
Mike watched as the creature explored their island. It moved
around the perimeter, examining their equipment, checking their canoes. It
was clearly curious about their presence, but it moved carefully, quietly,
like it was trying not to wake them. The most
unsettling moment came when the creature approached Mike's tent. He
could see its shadow on the tent wall as it
(25:41):
crouched down next to where he was lying. For several minutes,
it stayed there so close that Mike could hear its breathing,
deep steady breaths that were definitely not human. Then it
made a sound, a low rumbling vocalization that Mike felt
in his chest. Not aggressive, more like a question, like
it was trying to communicate something but didn't know how.
(26:05):
Mike's client was awake by then, and they both lay
perfectly still until the creature moved away. They could hear
it walking around the island for another hour, then the
sound of it entering the water again. When Mike looked out,
he could see it swimming back toward the main shore
with the same powerful strokes. In the morning, they found
evidence of the creature's visit everywhere, large footprints in the sand,
(26:29):
impressions that showed clear toe structure and measured over eighteen
inches in length. The creature had examined all their equipment,
but nothing was damaged or moved. Mike and his client
cut their trip short, packing up and hiking out that morning.
The client was excited about what they'd witnessed, but Mike
was deeply unsettled. In twenty years of guiding in that area,
(26:51):
he'd never encountered anything that made him feel so completely
outmatched in his own environment. The thing that bothered Mike
most was how easily the creature had moved through the water,
swimming between islands, approaching their camp from an angle he'd
never considered. It suggested a level of adaptation to the
wilderness that went far beyond anything he'd encountered. Mike sold
(27:13):
Is guiding business two years later, saying he wanted to
try something different, but he told me the real reason.
The wilderness didn't feel empty anymore. It felt occupied by
something that was watching, learning, and adapting to human presence
in ways that made him uncomfortable. I spent twenty five
years in the deep woods, and I saw things that
don't fit into our normal understanding of what is supposed
(27:36):
to live in North American forests. I'm not talking about
mystical creatures or ancient legends. I'm talking about something real,
something that's adapted to living in the wilderness better than
we ever could. These creatures, whatever they are, aren't the
gentle giants some people want to believe in their territorial
intelligent and powerful enough to be dangerous when they want
(27:59):
to be, but they also seem to understand that avoiding
humans is usually the best strategy for survival. The encounters
I've described happened to me and people I trusted over
the course of my career. I documented what I could
kept photos and measurements, but I never made it official.
How do you file a report about something that officially
(28:19):
doesn't exist. What connects all these stories is the behavior
I observed. These aren't mindless animals acting on instinct. They're
intelligent enough to evaluate situations, make decisions, and adapt their
behavior based on circumstances. They understand human activity well enough
to avoid detection most of the time, but they're also
(28:41):
territorial enough to defend their space when they feel threatened.
The systematic equipment destruction I witnessed in Washington wasn't random vandalism.
It was targeted behavior designed to drive away human intrusion.
I think there's a population of these creatures living in
the most remote areas of North American foreststs. They've learned
(29:01):
to avoid human contact, but they're also curious enough to
study our behavior when they think they can do it safely.
The intelligence I observed suggests they're much more than simple animals.
They understand technology well enough to examine and manipulate it.
They recognize vehicles and equipment. They can evaluate threats and
respond appropriately. Now that I'm retired, I figure it's time
(29:24):
to share what I experienced. Maybe it'll help other people
understand that the wilderness isn't empty. It's occupied by something
we don't fully understand, something that's been there longer than
we have. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything.
I'm just telling you what happened to me during twenty
five years of walking forest trails and spending nights alone
in places where most people never go. You can believe
(29:47):
it or not, that's up to you. But if you
spend time in the deep woods, pay attention to things
that don't quite fit, equipment that gets moved without explanation,
signs of intelligence, and places where you don't expect to
find it, and remember that you're not alone out there.
The wilderness has rules, and the most important one is respect.
(30:08):
Respect for the environment, respect for the wildlife, and respect
for the things you might encounter that you don't understand.
Because there are things in those forests that are bigger, stronger,
and smarter than you are, and they've been watching us
a lot longer than we may care to admit. They say,
you don't gotta go home, but you can't stay.
Speaker 3 (30:38):
Out. The joy this job, that time, everything came right
(31:06):
by poking back joy from me.
Speaker 4 (31:10):
Joy staying right you come in right away. Steps still
(31:33):
step step step steps.
Speaker 1 (32:00):
Do not do
Speaker 4 (32:12):
Ussas state passing states BASS used these ps
Today, I want to tell you about a journey that
I've been on for most of my life. Ever since
I was a kid, I've heard tales of bigfoot and
wild men while spending time with my friends and family.
As I grew older and read more about the paranormal,
my interest in encryptids and other things strange only deepened.
That's why I'm so excited to share with you what
I've personally become involved with the Untold Radio Network. The
(00:21):
Untold Radio Network is a live streaming podcast network that
airs a new show every day across all podcast platforms, YouTube,
and more. They have eight different shows on all sorts
of exciting topics such as bigfoot, cryptids, UFOs, aliens, and
much more. I even have my own show called Weird Encounters,
where I talk about all things strange. This is more
(00:42):
than just a podcast network. It's a community that allows
me to meet so many amazing people who share their
stories and experiences with strange. If you're interested in hearing
more of these stories and learning more about the paranormal
and encryptids, make sure you check out the Untold Radio
Network for all kinds of exciting shows. It's free to subscribe.
So what are you waiting for visit www dot untold
(01:04):
radionetwork dot com today.
Speaker 2 (01:06):
Now, what are your reporting? I got a screen going
on here. Something just kid with my dog, something to
kill your dog? My dog. We're flying through there over
the tree. I don't know how it did it? Okay, damn,
I'm really confused. All I saw was my dog coming
over the fence and name was dead once you hit
the grill. I didn't see any cars. All I saw
was my dog coming over the fence. Sat, what are
(01:45):
you reporting? We got some wonder or something crawling around
out here? Did you see what it was? It was
enough out here. Look, I'm near the window now and
I don't need anything. I don't want to go outside.
Its hello, hit the boddy out here? What quen? I'm
(02:12):
out there? It's thought of a mention about text nine.
I don't know easy, I'm out there. Yeah, I'm walking right, heady.
Speaker 1 (02:19):
My name's Bill, and I just retired after twenty five
years with the Forest Service. Spent most of that time
in the deep woods of the Pacific Northwest, but also
worked assignments in Montana, Alaska, Colorado, and a few other places.
I've seen a lot of things in those woods that
most people never will Some of them I can explain. Others, well,
(02:40):
let me tell you what happened, and you can decide
for yourself. I'm telling these stories because I'm done worrying
about what people think. I've got my pension, my cabin,
and nothing left to prove. These things happened to me,
all of them. And if you think I'm lying or crazy,
that's your business. But I know what I saw and
I know what I experienced. This was early in my career,
(03:04):
maybe my second year on the job. I was stationed
at a remote outpost on the Olympic Peninsula, one of
those places where you might not see another person for weeks.
The job was mostly firewatch and basic maintenance, but in
late fall of seventy eight, I had an experience that
changed how I looked at the forest. I was working
a night shift, doing routine patrols on some of the
(03:25):
back roads. It was around two a m. When I
decided to check on a small ranger cabin about eight
miles from the main station. The cabin was used by
researchers sometimes, but it had been empty for weeks. When
I got there, something felt wrong. The front door was
standing wide open, which wasn't normal. I parked the truck
(03:46):
and grabbed my flashlight and radio. The cabin looked fine
from the outside, but when I stepped inside, I could
smell something, not like garbage or decay, more like wet animal,
strong and thick, like when you walk past at a
zoo exhibit. I called out, thinking maybe someone had broken in.
No answer. I checked all the rooms with my flashlight.
(04:08):
Everything was where it should be, nothing missing or damaged.
But the smell was getting stronger, and I started hearing
something moving around outside. I went back to the front
door and listened heavy footsteps, but not like boots, more
like bare feet, but way too heavy for a person.
The steps went around the cabin, slow and deliberate, like
(04:30):
whatever it was was checking the place out. I stood
in that doorway for maybe ten minutes, listening to those
footsteps circle the building. Then they stopped right behind the cabin,
and I heard a sound I'll never forget. It was
like someone clearing their throat, but deeper, much deeper, and
loud enough that I felt it in my chest. I
(04:51):
decided to investigate. Stupid, probably, but I was young and
thought I could handle anything. I walked around the back
of the cabin with my flashlight, expecting to find a
bear or maybe some drunk hiker. What I found was
a set of footprints in the dirt behind the cabin.
They were huge, had to be eighteen inches long, maybe more.
(05:12):
They looked human, but the size was impossible. I could
see tow impressions, the heel of the foot, everything, but
they were deeper than any human print would be. Whatever
made these definitely weighed way more than a person. I
followed the trail for maybe twenty yards before it disappeared
on rocky ground. But I'd seen enough. I went back
(05:33):
to my truck and got out of there. Never filed
a report about it, just marked the cabin as secure
and moved on. But I went back the next week,
had to see if those prints were still there. They were,
and there were more of them. It looked like something
had been visiting that cabin regularly, walking around it, maybe
looking in the windows. I never spent another night alone
(05:55):
at that outpost without thinking about those footprints, and I
never went back to that cabin after dark. In nineteen
eighty seven, I got assigned to a research project in Alaska.
I was supposed to spend six weeks at a remote
station helping with a wildlife survey. The station was about
forty miles from the nearest road, supplied by helicopter once
(06:16):
a month. Beautiful country, but isolated in a way that
could get to you if you weren't careful. I was
there alone most of the time, just me and all
the monitoring equipment. Radio contact with the outside world twice
a day, but otherwise complete silence. The work was routine,
checking instruments, recording data, maintaining the equipment. About three weeks
(06:40):
in I started noticing that my equipment was being moved,
not damaged, just repositioned. I'd place a camera in one spot,
come back a week later and find it twenty feet away,
still functioning, still recording, just moved. At first I figured
it was bears. They're curious animals, and I'll investigate anything
(07:01):
new in their territory. But bears don't relocate equipment carefully.
They knock it over, maybe chew on it, but they
don't move it intact. I decided to review the footage
from the cameras see if I could figure out what
was moving them. What I found on those recordings still
gives me chills. There was something out there, something big
(07:21):
and covered in dark fur, walking upright like a person,
but way too large to be human. The footage showed
it approaching my cameras, sniffing them, picking them up, and
examining them like a curious animal might. But what got
to me was how careful it was. Bears will bat
at things, knock them around. This creature handled my equipment
(07:42):
like it understood it was fragile. It would pick up
a camera, turn it over, smell it, then set it
down somewhere else. Over the next two weeks, I captured
more footage. The creature was around the station almost every night.
It would investigate everything, my supply, cash, my equipment, even
my WISTE disposal area, like it was trying to understand
(08:03):
what I was doing there. The thing was massive. Even
on the grainy footage, I could tell it had to
be eight feet tall, maybe more. The shoulders were enormous
and the arms hung down almost to its knees. But
it moved quietly, carefully, like it was being deliberate about
not damaging anything. I never felt directly threatened, but knowing
(08:25):
something that large was watching me every night, studying my routines,
that changed how I felt about being alone in the wilderness.
I started keeping my rifle closer, even though I wasn't
sure bullets would do much good against something that size.
When my assignment ended, I packed up everything and never
looked back. I kept copies of the footage, but I
(08:45):
never showed them to anyone. The quality wasn't great, and
most of it just showed a large, dark shape moving
around in the darkness. I requested transfer back to the
Lower forty eight after that assignment. Told my supervisors I
didn't like the isolation, which was true, but not for
the reasons they thought. In nineteen ninety five, I was
(09:06):
working in the bitter Root National Forest in Montana, beautiful country,
but remote and wild. I was doing a routine patrol
in late October when I came across a hunting camp
that had been abandoned in a hurry. The camp was
set up properly, good location, well organized, all the right equipment,
but everything was just left there, tents still standing, gear
(09:29):
scattered around, food left out like the hunters had dropped
everything and ran. I found the hunters about a mile away,
holed up in their truck on a forest road. Three
guys from back East experienced hunters, but new to the
Western Mountains. They were pretty shaken up. Said they'd had
to abandon their camp because of dangerous wildlife. It took
(09:50):
some talking to get the full story out of them.
They'd been camped in that spot for two days, having
good luck with elk, but on their second night they
started he hearing things that didn't belong, trees being broken,
loud crashes echoing through the forest. The oldest hunter, a
guy named Frank, said it sounded like someone was clearing
land with heavy machinery, but they were eight miles from
(10:13):
the nearest road, no way to get equipment into that area.
When they investigated in the morning, they found trees that
had been broken off about eight feet from the ground.
Not cut down, broken snapped like twigs. These were mature furs,
six and eight inches across. Whatever broke them had to
be incredibly strong. Frank had been logging before he retired,
(10:35):
and he said it would take a machine to break
trees that size, but there were no tire tracks, no
signs of machinery. The second night, they heard something moving
around their camp. Heavy footsteps, but careful and deliberate, like
something large was walking around their tents, checking them out.
They stayed inside and waited for morning. When they emerged,
(10:58):
they found footprints all around their camp. Frank showed me
photos he'd taken with the disposable camera. The prints were enormous,
clearly showing tow impressions and the shape of a human foot,
but way too big for any person. But what really
spooked them was what they found at their truck. They'd
parked it about a quarter mile from camp, thinking it
would be safer there. When they checked on it the
(11:20):
next morning, something had been examining it. There were large
handprints on the windows and body panels, like something had
been pressing against the glass trying to see inside. Frank
said the handprints were huge, much larger than human hands,
but they showed finger impressions, thumbs, everything you'd expect from
a hand, just impossibly large. The third night, they didn't
(11:44):
wait around to see what would happen. They packed up
their essential gear and hiked out to their truck in
the dark, leaving most of their equipment behind. I went
back to their campsite after talking to them. Everything was
just as they described. Broken trees, footprints, gear left scattered around,
and stay tuned for more Sasquatch ott to see We'll
(12:05):
be right back. After these messages, the footprints were deep
and clear, showing details that convinced me these weren't fake.
I took some photos and measurements, but I never filed
an official report. What was I going to say that
some unknown creature had harassed hunters and left impossible footprints.
(12:27):
I kept the documentation, but it stayed in my personal files.
The hunters never came back to Montana. Frank sent me
a letter a few months later saying they decided to
stick to hunting closer to home. Can't say I blame them.
I was doing a training assignment in Colorado in two
thousand and three, working with rangers in the Roosevelt National Forest.
(12:48):
That's where I met a family who'd had an experience
that still bothers me when I think about it. They
were from Denver, mother, father, teenage daughter, experienced campers who'd
been visiting the now National Forests for years. They came
to our office after a backcountry camping trip, asking if
we'd had any reports of unusual wildlife activity in the
(13:09):
area they'd been visiting. The father was an engineer, very
methodical guy. He laid out their story like he was
giving a technical presentation. They'd been camping near a remote
lake three days and two nights in an area where
they didn't see another person the whole time. First two
days were perfect, good weather, nice fishing, saw the usual wildlife.
(13:31):
The daughter was into photography and had been taking pictures constantly,
documenting everything from wildflowers to wildlife. On their last night,
they were sitting around the campfire when they heard something
moving in the forest across the lake. Heavy sounds, like
something large was walking through the trees, but not random
like an animal foraging, more purposeful, like it was patrolling
(13:54):
or searching for something. The father scanned the tree line
with a flashlight but couldn't see anything. The sounds continued
for maybe an hour, something moving through the forest, stopping occasionally,
then moving again. Sometimes they could hear branches breaking, like
whatever it was didn't care about moving quietly. Then they
smelled it. The mother described it as like a zoo
(14:17):
on a hot day, thick and musky. The smell got
stronger as whatever was out there got closer to their camp.
It was so strong it made them gag. The daughter
had been experimenting with the night vision setting on her
camera and she managed to get one shot of something
standing at the tree line. The image showed a massive
figure covered in dark hair, standing upright between two pine trees,
(14:40):
maybe sixty yards from their camp. The thing was huge,
had to be at least seven feet tall, with shoulders
that looked impossibly broad. It was just standing there, and
in the night vision image you could see it was
looking toward their camp, not moving, just watching them. They
hiked out that night five mi aisles of rough trail
(15:01):
by flashlight. Said they'd rather risk getting lost than spend
another hour in that place with something that size watching
them from the darkness. The father brought the camera to
our office and showed me the image. The night vision
made everything look greenish, but you could clearly see it
wasn't any normal animal. The proportions were all wrong, too tall,
(15:22):
too broad, arms that hung down too far. What got
to me was thinking about how long it might have
been watching them before they noticed the way it was
positioned in the trees, perfectly still just observing their camp
like a predator studying prey, but without any apparent intention
to attack. The family stopped backcountry camping after that experience.
(15:45):
They still visit the National forests, but only in developed
campgrounds where there are other people around. Can't say I
blame them. I kept a copy of that photo. I
look at it sometimes, trying to make sense of what
I'm seeing. The quality isn't grey, but there's definitely something there,
something that shouldn't exist. By twenty ten, I was working
(16:06):
special assignments, and that summer I got sent to investigate
complaints about aggressive wildlife in the North Cascades. A research
station had been having problems with equipment being destroyed and
researchers being intimidated by what they described as unusually large
and bold bears. The station was only accessible by helicopter,
(16:27):
about fifteen miles from the nearest trail. When I arrived,
I could see why the researchers were concerned. Equipment had
been damaged all around the facility, not randomly destroyed, but
systematically dismantled. Solar panels had been ripped off their mounts,
weather instruments had been pulled apart, and supply containers had
been opened and their contents scattered. But this wasn't bear damage.
(16:50):
Bears tear things apart looking for food, and they leave
claw marks and bite marks. This looked more like something
had been taking equipment apart, piece by piece, exam how
it was constructed. I spent two weeks at the station
documenting the damage and trying to establish patterns. The destruction
always happened at night, and it was getting more aggressive.
(17:11):
Whatever was doing this seemed to be escalating its behavior.
On my third night, I found out why. Around two am,
I heard something moving around outside the station. Heavy footsteps
but too deliberate for a bear. I watched from the
window as a massive figure approached the facility. It was enormous,
(17:32):
easily eight feet tall, with a frame that looked like
it could weigh five hundred pounds, covered in thick, dark hair,
and moving with surprising agility for something so large, and
it was clearly agitated about something. The creature went straight
to the equipment I'd set up earlier that day, motion
sensors and recording devices. It didn't just destroy them randomly.
(17:53):
It systematically dismantled each piece, examining it briefly, then throwing
the parts away with obvie frustration. I watched for over
an hour as it methodically destroyed everything I'd brought to
the station. But what scared me was the intelligence behind
its actions. This wasn't random vandalism. It was targeted destruction
of specific equipment, like it understood what each device was
(18:17):
for and didn't want to be monitored. When it finished
with my equipment, it turned its attention to the station itself.
It began testing the structural supports, pushing against the walls,
examining the roof attachments, like it was deciding whether to
demolish the entire facility. That's when I realized what was happening.
The research station had been built in this creature's territory,
(18:40):
and it was trying to drive away the human intruders.
The systematic equipment destruction wasn't random, it was a message.
I packed up and left the next morning, recommending that
the station be relocated. In my report, I cited unstable
geological conditions as the reason for the recommendation. The real
reas and would have gotten me laughed out of the
(19:01):
Forest Service. The station was eventually abandoned after researchers continued
to report equipment problems in what they described as intimidation
behavior from local wildlife. Last I heard, the area had
been designated as sensitive habitat and was off limits to
research activities. Sometimes territorial animals will defend their space against
(19:22):
human intrusion. Usually that means bears or mountain lions. But
what I observed that night was something much larger and
more intelligent, defending its territory the only way it knew how,
by making human presence impossible to maintain. I was working
a temporary assignment in Kentucky in twenty fifteen, helping with
(19:42):
fire management planning in the Daniel Boone National Forest. That's
where I met Tom, a state police officer who'd been
patrolling the rural areas around the forest for over fifteen years.
Tom came to our office one morning, looking like he
hadn't slept. Said he needed to talk to someone about
an incident from the night before, but he wasn't sure
how to classify it. When I asked what kind of incident,
(20:05):
he said I needed to hear the whole story before
I'd believe it. He'd been patrolling State Route eighty, one
of those winding mountain roads that cuts through some of
the most remote areas of eastern Kentucky. It was around
three a m. When his headlights caught something standing in
the middle of the road about fifty yards ahead. At first,
he thought it was a person, maybe someone whose car
(20:26):
had broken down, but as he got closer he realized
whatever it was was much too large to be human.
It was standing upright on two legs, but it had
to be at least eight feet tall, with shoulders that
looked impossibly broad. Tom stopped his patrol car and turned
on his spotlight. What he saw made him reach for
his radio, but they were in a dead zone where
(20:48):
the mountains blocked the signal. He was on his own.
The thing in the road was covered in thick, dark
hair and built like nothing he'd ever seen. The arms
hung down almost to its knees, and the head was assive,
much larger than a human head. But it was looking
directly at his patrol car, studying it like it was
trying to decide what to do. Tom said, the most
(21:09):
unsettling thing was how intelligent it looked. This wasn't some
mindless animal. It was clearly thinking, evaluating the situation, and
it didn't seem afraid of the patrol car or the spotlight.
For maybe five minutes, they just looked at each other,
Tom sitting in his car, this massive creature standing in
the road. Then it did something that convinced Tom he
(21:32):
was dealing with something beyond his experience. It stepped to
the side of the road and gestured for him to pass,
not like a person would gesture, but a clear indication
that it was moving out of the way. Tom drove
passed slowly, and the creature watched him the entire time.
In his rear view mirror, he could see it step
back into the road after he'd passed. Tom drove to
(21:54):
the nearest area with radio coverage and called for backup,
but by the time another unit arrived, there was There's
nothing there, no footprints on the asphalt, no evidence that
anything had happened. But Tom knew what he'd seen. He'd
been a police officer for fifteen years, trained to observe
and evaluate threats. What he'd encountered wasn't a bear standing
(22:15):
on its hind legs or a person in a costume.
It was something that belonged in those mountains, something that
understood human behavior well enough to recognize a police car
and respond appropriately. The thing that bothered Tom most was
how the creature had handled the encounter. No aggression, no fear,
just calm evaluation and accommodation like it was used to
(22:38):
dealing with humans and knew how to avoid conflict. Tom
never patrolled that stretch of road alone again. He requested
reassignment to areas closer to town, saying he preferred community
policing to rural patrol work. But he told me the
real reason he didn't want another encounter with something that
was clearly more intelligent than any animal had a right
(22:59):
to be. I kept in touch with Tom for a
few years after that assignment. He eventually transferred to a
different department, taking a job in urban law enforcement, where
the biggest wildlife concern was stray dogs. Said he'd had
enough of the mountains and whatever lived in them. During
a training program in Michigan in twenty seventeen, I met
a fishing guide named Mike who'd been working the remote
(23:22):
lakes and rivers of the Upper Peninsula for over twenty years.
Mike was the kind of guy who knew every creek
in Beaver Pond within one hundred miles, someone who'd spent
more nights alone in the wilderness than most people spend indoors.
But Mike came to our office that summer with a
story that had clearly shaken him. He'd been guiding clients
on a multi day fishing trip in one of the
(23:43):
most remote areas of the Ottawa National Forest when they'd
encountered something that made him question everything he thought he
knew about the local wildlife. The trip was supposed to
be five days of fishing on a series of connected
lakes that required a two day hike just to reach
and stay tuned for more sasquatch ott to see we'll
be right back after these messages. Mike had been using
(24:10):
the area for years without incident. It was perfect for
clients who wanted to fish waters that hadn't seen much
pressure from other anglers. On their third night, they were
camped on a small island in the middle of the
largest lake. Mike had chosen the spot because it offered
good fishing and natural protection from bears and other wildlife.
What he didn't expect was something that could swim around. Midnight,
(24:34):
Mike was awakened by the sound of something moving through
the water around their island. At first, he thought it
might be a moose. They're strong swimmers and not uncommon
in that area, but the swimming pattern was too regular,
too purposeful. Mike looked out from his tent and saw
something in the water. A massive figure was swimming toward
their island with powerful, steady strokes, too large to be human,
(24:57):
but moving through the water with more skill than any
animal he'd ever seen. The creature reached the shallow water
around the island and stood up. Even in the poor light,
Mike could see it was enormous, at least eight feet tall,
with a frame that looked powerful enough to break trees.
It was covered in thick, dark hair that seemed to
shed water like an animal's coat. For the next hour,
(25:19):
Mike watched as the creature explored their island. It moved
around the perimeter, examining their equipment, checking their canoes. It
was clearly curious about their presence, but it moved carefully, quietly,
like it was trying not to wake them. The most
unsettling moment came when the creature approached Mike's tent. He
could see its shadow on the tent wall as it
(25:41):
crouched down next to where he was lying. For several minutes,
it stayed there so close that Mike could hear its breathing,
deep steady breaths that were definitely not human. Then it
made a sound, a low rumbling vocalization that Mike felt
in his chest. Not aggressive, more like a question, like
it was trying to communicate something but didn't know how.
(26:05):
Mike's client was awake by then, and they both lay
perfectly still until the creature moved away. They could hear
it walking around the island for another hour, then the
sound of it entering the water again. When Mike looked out,
he could see it swimming back toward the main shore
with the same powerful strokes. In the morning, they found
evidence of the creature's visit everywhere, large footprints in the sand,
(26:29):
impressions that showed clear toe structure and measured over eighteen
inches in length. The creature had examined all their equipment,
but nothing was damaged or moved. Mike and his client
cut their trip short, packing up and hiking out that morning.
The client was excited about what they'd witnessed, but Mike
was deeply unsettled. In twenty years of guiding in that area,
(26:51):
he'd never encountered anything that made him feel so completely
outmatched in his own environment. The thing that bothered Mike
most was how easily the creature had moved through the water,
swimming between islands, approaching their camp from an angle he'd
never considered. It suggested a level of adaptation to the
wilderness that went far beyond anything he'd encountered. Mike sold
(27:13):
Is guiding business two years later, saying he wanted to
try something different, but he told me the real reason.
The wilderness didn't feel empty anymore. It felt occupied by
something that was watching, learning, and adapting to human presence
in ways that made him uncomfortable. I spent twenty five
years in the deep woods, and I saw things that
don't fit into our normal understanding of what is supposed
(27:36):
to live in North American forests. I'm not talking about
mystical creatures or ancient legends. I'm talking about something real,
something that's adapted to living in the wilderness better than
we ever could. These creatures, whatever they are, aren't the
gentle giants some people want to believe in their territorial
intelligent and powerful enough to be dangerous when they want
(27:59):
to be, but they also seem to understand that avoiding
humans is usually the best strategy for survival. The encounters
I've described happened to me and people I trusted over
the course of my career. I documented what I could
kept photos and measurements, but I never made it official.
How do you file a report about something that officially
(28:19):
doesn't exist. What connects all these stories is the behavior
I observed. These aren't mindless animals acting on instinct. They're
intelligent enough to evaluate situations, make decisions, and adapt their
behavior based on circumstances. They understand human activity well enough
to avoid detection most of the time, but they're also
(28:41):
territorial enough to defend their space when they feel threatened.
The systematic equipment destruction I witnessed in Washington wasn't random vandalism.
It was targeted behavior designed to drive away human intrusion.
I think there's a population of these creatures living in
the most remote areas of North American foreststs. They've learned
(29:01):
to avoid human contact, but they're also curious enough to
study our behavior when they think they can do it safely.
The intelligence I observed suggests they're much more than simple animals.
They understand technology well enough to examine and manipulate it.
They recognize vehicles and equipment. They can evaluate threats and
respond appropriately. Now that I'm retired, I figure it's time
(29:24):
to share what I experienced. Maybe it'll help other people
understand that the wilderness isn't empty. It's occupied by something
we don't fully understand, something that's been there longer than
we have. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything.
I'm just telling you what happened to me during twenty
five years of walking forest trails and spending nights alone
in places where most people never go. You can believe
(29:47):
it or not, that's up to you. But if you
spend time in the deep woods, pay attention to things
that don't quite fit, equipment that gets moved without explanation,
signs of intelligence, and places where you don't expect to
find it, and remember that you're not alone out there.
The wilderness has rules, and the most important one is respect.
(30:08):
Respect for the environment, respect for the wildlife, and respect
for the things you might encounter that you don't understand.
Because there are things in those forests that are bigger, stronger,
and smarter than you are, and they've been watching us
a lot longer than we may care to admit. They say,
you don't gotta go home, but you can't stay.
Speaker 3 (30:38):
Out. The joy this job, that time, everything came right
(31:06):
by poking back joy from me.
Speaker 4 (31:10):
Joy staying right you come in right away. Steps still
(31:33):
step step step steps.
Speaker 1 (32:00):
Do not do
Speaker 4 (32:12):
Ussas state passing states BASS used these ps
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New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce
Football’s funniest family duo — Jason Kelce of the Philadelphia Eagles and Travis Kelce of the Kansas City Chiefs — team up to provide next-level access to life in the league as it unfolds. The two brothers and Super Bowl champions drop weekly insights about the weekly slate of games and share their INSIDE perspectives on trending NFL news and sports headlines. They also endlessly rag on each other as brothers do, chat the latest in pop culture and welcome some very popular and well-known friends to chat with them. Check out new episodes every Wednesday. Follow New Heights on the Wondery App, YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to new episodes early and ad-free, and get exclusive content on Wondery+. Join Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. And join our new membership for a unique fan experience by going to the New Heights YouTube channel now!
Dateline NBC
Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com
On Purpose with Jay Shetty
I’m Jay Shetty host of On Purpose the worlds #1 Mental Health podcast and I’m so grateful you found us. I started this podcast 5 years ago to invite you into conversations and workshops that are designed to help make you happier, healthier and more healed. I believe that when you (yes you) feel seen, heard and understood you’re able to deal with relationship struggles, work challenges and life’s ups and downs with more ease and grace. I interview experts, celebrities, thought leaders and athletes so that we can grow our mindset, build better habits and uncover a side of them we’ve never seen before. New episodes every Monday and Friday. Your support means the world to me and I don’t take it for granted — click the follow button and leave a review to help us spread the love with On Purpose. I can’t wait for you to listen to your first or 500th episode!