July 18, 2022 • 20 mins
Two great stories and even more to come throughout the summer!
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
M M. It's a big worldout there. Welcome to Bigfoot's Wilderness Podcast.
(00:49):
I've been listening to your show sinceyou were on YouTube. I wanted
to share with you something that happenedto my father. I will say that
if he were still alive, Idon't think he'd want me to share it.
Of course, I actually know hewouldn't. He's been gone for over
five years. And since I'm keenlyaware of the subject of this particular cryptid,
(01:11):
I do know that most people usuallykeep themselves anonymous, and I'd like
to do the same on the side. But an equally important note, I
want people to know, especially hunters, that because one it's a matter of
the simple awareness that they do existin the woods and forests, and two,
(01:33):
I believe it calls into question personalsafety, especially when the local authorities
don't recognize the fact that they aretruly real. Are they prone to violence?
Some might just say yes, butthat's not something I've been able to
document, even from my dad's story. At the age of forty three,
(01:55):
my father suffered a stroke. Althoughhe was relatively young by most standards,
I still remember the hardships he wentthrough. Being a heavy smoker, it
was important to change his lifestyle choicesand cigarettes would have to go. He
experienced pain, numbness, and paralysis, especially in his right leg, which
(02:16):
made for challenging times. The strugglewas as real as it was while having
to use a wheelchair, then crutches, and eventually a cane. But the
worst part for him was missing theopportunity to get in his deer stand,
the one that old Man Cawthorne lethim use for the better part of a
(02:38):
decade. And now the season wasonly a few weeks away here in West
Virginia. As it grew colder andthe sun set earlier, his time outside
became a bit more limited. Yousee, Dad was weak, but the
walks were doing a lot of goodas long as he kept to a schedule,
(03:00):
and for once in his life,he was actually following the doctor's orders.
He'd missed every other hunting season inthe recent months, but he wasn't
going to miss this since it washis favorite, dear season. That may
be the one and only time OldDad ever paid much attention to any one
of authority. I'm kind of halfjoking, of course. He always took
(03:23):
orders from my mom without any objection. I was only fourteen, but I
came up with an idea and I'dgot a few friends of mine together along
with our football coach, who wasalso a good friend of the family,
and he brought a few members ofthe school's faculty. Dad was always helping
and volunteering at my junior high andnow high school, and well it was
(03:46):
time that they gave back. Nobig celebration, no big party, just
helping out Dad because he needed itand some good in his life would happen
at a very vulnerable time. Anyonethat knew him could figure out that hunting
was always top of mind, andhe always had a story to tell or
(04:06):
sometimes could even tell you about thelatest trophy bear or buck to come out
of the state. Like an avidsports fan, he watched All Things Hunting
on TV. A few days beforedear season, the group of us worked
on this secret project and everyone cameover to the house. We then drove
(04:28):
out to the property that Dad routinelyhunted on using his cane. Sparingly,
he stared at the deer stand andthen at us. My football coach spoke,
Chuck, we all know how muchyou look forward to this time of
year and when your son came tome, Well, we came up with
an idea. Your son helped devisea pulley system that we think you can
(04:51):
manage by yourself, so let's tryit out. And it worked like a
charm. Dad was a proud andsincerely thanked everyone for their efforts. Days
later, Dad had gotten his geartogether, just like he did every year,
and set out for that deer stand. He'd mentioned that he left earlier
(05:13):
than normal as he was expecting thatthe process might just take a little longer
than usual, so he wanted tobe able to set up and was trying
not to scare off any game.All that walking in therapy still didn't prepare
him for a five am alarm andthirty pounds of gear to haul over to
that deer stand. I know whatmost may be thinking. He didn't want
(05:36):
pity and he didn't want any help. He wanted to do this by himself,
just like he did every year.Settling in his chair, he claimed
that moments after setting in, therebecame a ruckiss that started deep in the
woods like a giant alarm. Clockbirds seemed to be in full panic since
(05:59):
my D was the only person tohunt this land and seemed obvious that he
must have been the reason for thecalamity. A lot can be said for
the animals of the forest, asthey act like centuries, alerting all of
the other animals, kind of likean anti predatory response system. The sounds
they emanated from crows to chickades,my father recalled, but as quickly as
(06:26):
it all began, the forest suddenlywent stark silent. Although I never took
to hunting, I strongly feel thatany hunter would feel far more secure with
a rifle across their lap. Mydad happened to have several guns, but
he preferred his Savage Model one ten. Here I am, he said,
(06:47):
fifteen feet in the air, andif it were daylight, I probably would
have had a visual of what happenednext. Every time I thought about it,
it just gave me chills. Whydo I still doubt myself? I
still have a hard time believing it. Like I said, fifteen feet in
the air, and I pointed mygun at everything everywhere, at every little
(07:12):
movement below me. I swore itsounded like a big body was walking around
on two feet. And even sincemy eyes had adjusted as much as they
could to the darkness, all Icould truly make out was an outline,
a hazy, fuzzy presence of somethingdown there. I dared not breathe,
as I thought it hadn't detected me. I think that was probably the truest
(07:38):
statement, and maybe even the mostaccurate, as it began to dawn on
me that I wasn't the only strangerin the woods that early morning. The
birds were losing it, sending outalarms, but not necessarily because of me.
Because of it, I think,until that sun would come up,
(07:58):
I would continue to struggle with anymore detail of whatever this presence was below.
My mind was racing as I heardevery heavy breath and occasionally bones breaking,
the chewing, and the gnashing ofthe teeth on flesh. It reminded
me of those wild life shows wherea lion feasts on a zebra. I
(08:20):
was too close for comfort and physicallyunable to leave the situation. I'd say
I was probably frozen in fear.I wanted to repel down the ladder and
run like hell, but I couldn'tbecause whatever it was sat almost directly below
me and my leg well, Ididn't forget the physical effort it took to
(08:43):
get me up here. My legwas partially paralyzed and my arms were my
only saving grace. But I wasliterally sitting in a swinging basket like a
baby in a bassinet. More minutesasked, and the rising sun began to
illuminate a more complete detail of it. A beast. I thought, my
(09:07):
god, what was it that wasbent over devouring the carcass? It had
to be a big, old brownbear. But I knew bears well enough
to know that the general shape ofthis creature did not resemble a bear,
and there are no brown bears inWest Virginia unless they are just black bears
with a brown coat. Even thehair, which had gray and black splotches
(09:33):
across its back, couldn't be confusedfor any bear that I know. As
crazy as it sounds, from everygrunt and groan, I would have sworn
it was likely a man, asit sounded famished and it choked down on
chunks of meat. A little moresun and more details, because now I
(09:54):
could see even more, including avery muscular back, kind of like a
bodybuilder. I could see the vtaper and the fact that it wasn't wearing
any clothes. Making a fateful error. I gagged at the nauseating stench coming
from either the carcass of the deeror from the creature from Hell itself.
(10:16):
It heard me, stopped eating,stood erect, and looked straight up at
me. I I felt like mylife was about to be snuffed out in
an instant. As we locked eyes, its face was covered in blood and
dirt. It bared its teeth atme, and I almost lost it and
passed out. I really wanted tojust cry. I thought that I was
(10:39):
looking at death squarely in the eyes. It had to have outweighed me by
two hundred pounds, maybe more.It was hard to judge height, but
I'd say he had a foot anda half on me too. His hands,
they looked like mallets. They wereenormous. As its right hand held
(11:00):
the deer's back leg, it lookedangry and its lips were curled, and
I could see even more of itsblood covered on its blocky teeth. Luckily,
my face was covered in a mask. With only my eyes visible,
it couldn't detect the absolute fear thatI had. All I could do was
(11:20):
whisper, Oh God, please protectme, protect me, Protect me.
My hands were wrapped so tight aroundthat savage one ten that they were cramping
up. It was loaded, Thankgod, it was loaded. What do
I do now? Barely a fewminutes went by, it felt like an
(11:41):
hour. I could describe every featureon its face, the color of its
eyes black, the nose wide,broad concave, and ears flat against the
head, even a long scar acrossits brow, and the fact that it
had a tan colored face. Nowthe morning light spared no details. A
(12:07):
car doors slam broke our gaze,and the giant creature dragged its carcass off
into the woods at a rapid speed. It seemed like a fraction of a
second and it was gone. Theforest had swallowed him up. It was
old man Cawthorne who'd come to checkon me. In all my years,
he'd never done that. Something musthave been wrong. I dared not tell
(12:31):
him what just happened, but Ifelt an obligation to make sure he and
I got out of there and safeback to our vehicles. Apparently my check
had bounced, the one I'd givenhim the prior week. That was the
problem. I never thought my checkbook would save me, at least not
in that way. As Dad recountedthe story to me, he joked a
(12:56):
little but he was mostly serious,and I was aware of just how it
affected him. I never questioned hisfeelings or sincerity for as many times as
he shared it privately with me.Mike, I hope I don't sound foolish,
but if this creature is alive andwell and running around our woods,
then anything is possible. Hopefully mydad doesn't turn over in his grave and
(13:22):
understands why I shared the story.Not for fame, not for notoriety,
not for money, but to teacha little safety. People need to know
that Bigfoot is real. While ona hike down a mountain trail in Shenandoah
(13:50):
Mountains off Skyline Drive in the stateof Virginia, I was following a small
brook that, according to the parkranger that I spoke with, said it
would lead me to a waterfall atthe bottom end. There I could make
camp for the night. About oneam, I heard this noise that scared
the hell out of me. Largerocks were being thrown from what seemed to
(14:11):
be two to three hundred feet awayup the trail. My only exit strategy
was to go through the same path, and that wasn't going to happen,
not at night and not on thesame turf as whatever was making that noise.
I heard heavy footprints that came towhat I would say a hundred feet
from my location at my tent.When I fired off a round from my
(14:35):
three fifty seven magnum aimed into theground, whatever it was took off.
I still didn't go back into thetent that night. I spent the night
leaning up against a tree, coveredup with a blanket, with no fire.
The next morning I quickly made mygetaway. I was so scared I
(14:56):
left my tent with only my foodand water. I believe a good look
at my intruder the night before.Understand there was a good four hour hike
to the car. At this point, two ridge peaks surrounded my exit path,
just as they did at my venturedown the hill. Halfway up the
mountain, I heard the same strangenoises I heard hours earlier. To my
(15:20):
left lies the rising sun coming overa ridge peak that was maybe eighty feet
away at that point. Looking up, I caught a clearer view of a
half human figure standing over the edgeof the peak with the morning sun behind
its back. It was at thatpoint I heard the horrifying scream that has
(15:41):
haunted me till this day. Itsounded like a baby screaming, then turned
into the deepest, full winded,long drawn out howl I've ever heard.
Right now, just talking about itmakes the hair stand upon my neck.
I emptied every of the gun inthe general direction of whatever it was,
(16:03):
and then it disappeared. I ranas fast as I could, loading my
gun at a full sprint uphill caddycorner to the intruder. When I reached
the safety of my car, Ialmost started crying. The relief was that
great. I've really got the hellscared out of me. I told the
ranger at the gate where I sixtyfour runs into the Blue Ridge Parkway,
(16:27):
and he insisted I wait for arelief ranger to get there to take him
over for him. I was tothen show this to the US Park Service
ranger the sight to where it alltook place. I did stay and waited
for the relief ranger, and thenhe followed me to the trail I'd been
on. When he got there,he had this look on his face and
(16:51):
said, this part of the skylinewas supposed to be closed down for the
coming snow. This is interesting becausethe ranger who gave me the tip on
a cool campsite. Sure didn't sayanything about any closed sections due to any
approaching storms. It was news tome. I think at this point he
was basically saying that they were goingto close it down to investigate. But
(17:15):
on the other hand, I thinkthey or he used the upcoming bad weather
for an excuse to close down thesite. In hindsight, on the way
back up the trail that the secondencounter happened, I am sure that my
shots hit the creature. The creaturewas very close, too close, at
(17:37):
a forty degree angle from my position. I have been a marksman for some
time. I've been in televised sharpshooterfinals and have served as a rangemaster on
two separate occasions. My house isfull of sharpshooting trophies, so I can
honestly say that there is a verygood chance I hit him. I may
(17:59):
have had the craps scared out ofme, but my hand never shakes when
I hold a weapon. I didrun and reload at the same time.
I ran like a bat out ofhell, but due to the size of
what I believe was a bigfoot,there was no way I would have gone
up to check the kill unless Ihad at least a Remington seven hundred mag
(18:19):
on my shoulder, because the creaturewas that big. It was the first
time in my life I knew aroundfrom a three fifty seven magnum would not
take down the creature that I wasshooting at. This all just mystifies me
to this day. Thanks so muchfor listening to The Big Fitts Wilderness Podcast.
(18:48):
I've got to get back on thishorse and keep putting out these stories.
It's been a very busy time forme at work, and I'm just
trying to make sure that I'm getout as many stories as I can in
the near future. So everyone havea great night. Thanks so much for
listening. Take care the
M M. It's a big worldout there. Welcome to Bigfoot's Wilderness Podcast.
(00:49):
I've been listening to your show sinceyou were on YouTube. I wanted
to share with you something that happenedto my father. I will say that
if he were still alive, Idon't think he'd want me to share it.
Of course, I actually know hewouldn't. He's been gone for over
five years. And since I'm keenlyaware of the subject of this particular cryptid,
(01:11):
I do know that most people usuallykeep themselves anonymous, and I'd like
to do the same on the side. But an equally important note, I
want people to know, especially hunters, that because one it's a matter of
the simple awareness that they do existin the woods and forests, and two,
(01:33):
I believe it calls into question personalsafety, especially when the local authorities
don't recognize the fact that they aretruly real. Are they prone to violence?
Some might just say yes, butthat's not something I've been able to
document, even from my dad's story. At the age of forty three,
(01:55):
my father suffered a stroke. Althoughhe was relatively young by most standards,
I still remember the hardships he wentthrough. Being a heavy smoker, it
was important to change his lifestyle choicesand cigarettes would have to go. He
experienced pain, numbness, and paralysis, especially in his right leg, which
(02:16):
made for challenging times. The strugglewas as real as it was while having
to use a wheelchair, then crutches, and eventually a cane. But the
worst part for him was missing theopportunity to get in his deer stand,
the one that old Man Cawthorne lethim use for the better part of a
(02:38):
decade. And now the season wasonly a few weeks away here in West
Virginia. As it grew colder andthe sun set earlier, his time outside
became a bit more limited. Yousee, Dad was weak, but the
walks were doing a lot of goodas long as he kept to a schedule,
(03:00):
and for once in his life,he was actually following the doctor's orders.
He'd missed every other hunting season inthe recent months, but he wasn't
going to miss this since it washis favorite, dear season. That may
be the one and only time OldDad ever paid much attention to any one
of authority. I'm kind of halfjoking, of course. He always took
(03:23):
orders from my mom without any objection. I was only fourteen, but I
came up with an idea and I'dgot a few friends of mine together along
with our football coach, who wasalso a good friend of the family,
and he brought a few members ofthe school's faculty. Dad was always helping
and volunteering at my junior high andnow high school, and well it was
(03:46):
time that they gave back. Nobig celebration, no big party, just
helping out Dad because he needed itand some good in his life would happen
at a very vulnerable time. Anyonethat knew him could figure out that hunting
was always top of mind, andhe always had a story to tell or
(04:06):
sometimes could even tell you about thelatest trophy bear or buck to come out
of the state. Like an avidsports fan, he watched All Things Hunting
on TV. A few days beforedear season, the group of us worked
on this secret project and everyone cameover to the house. We then drove
(04:28):
out to the property that Dad routinelyhunted on using his cane. Sparingly,
he stared at the deer stand andthen at us. My football coach spoke,
Chuck, we all know how muchyou look forward to this time of
year and when your son came tome, Well, we came up with
an idea. Your son helped devisea pulley system that we think you can
(04:51):
manage by yourself, so let's tryit out. And it worked like a
charm. Dad was a proud andsincerely thanked everyone for their efforts. Days
later, Dad had gotten his geartogether, just like he did every year,
and set out for that deer stand. He'd mentioned that he left earlier
(05:13):
than normal as he was expecting thatthe process might just take a little longer
than usual, so he wanted tobe able to set up and was trying
not to scare off any game.All that walking in therapy still didn't prepare
him for a five am alarm andthirty pounds of gear to haul over to
that deer stand. I know whatmost may be thinking. He didn't want
(05:36):
pity and he didn't want any help. He wanted to do this by himself,
just like he did every year.Settling in his chair, he claimed
that moments after setting in, therebecame a ruckiss that started deep in the
woods like a giant alarm. Clockbirds seemed to be in full panic since
(05:59):
my D was the only person tohunt this land and seemed obvious that he
must have been the reason for thecalamity. A lot can be said for
the animals of the forest, asthey act like centuries, alerting all of
the other animals, kind of likean anti predatory response system. The sounds
they emanated from crows to chickades,my father recalled, but as quickly as
(06:26):
it all began, the forest suddenlywent stark silent. Although I never took
to hunting, I strongly feel thatany hunter would feel far more secure with
a rifle across their lap. Mydad happened to have several guns, but
he preferred his Savage Model one ten. Here I am, he said,
(06:47):
fifteen feet in the air, andif it were daylight, I probably would
have had a visual of what happenednext. Every time I thought about it,
it just gave me chills. Whydo I still doubt myself? I
still have a hard time believing it. Like I said, fifteen feet in
the air, and I pointed mygun at everything everywhere, at every little
(07:12):
movement below me. I swore itsounded like a big body was walking around
on two feet. And even sincemy eyes had adjusted as much as they
could to the darkness, all Icould truly make out was an outline,
a hazy, fuzzy presence of somethingdown there. I dared not breathe,
as I thought it hadn't detected me. I think that was probably the truest
(07:38):
statement, and maybe even the mostaccurate, as it began to dawn on
me that I wasn't the only strangerin the woods that early morning. The
birds were losing it, sending outalarms, but not necessarily because of me.
Because of it, I think,until that sun would come up,
(07:58):
I would continue to struggle with anymore detail of whatever this presence was below.
My mind was racing as I heardevery heavy breath and occasionally bones breaking,
the chewing, and the gnashing ofthe teeth on flesh. It reminded
me of those wild life shows wherea lion feasts on a zebra. I
(08:20):
was too close for comfort and physicallyunable to leave the situation. I'd say
I was probably frozen in fear.I wanted to repel down the ladder and
run like hell, but I couldn'tbecause whatever it was sat almost directly below
me and my leg well, Ididn't forget the physical effort it took to
(08:43):
get me up here. My legwas partially paralyzed and my arms were my
only saving grace. But I wasliterally sitting in a swinging basket like a
baby in a bassinet. More minutesasked, and the rising sun began to
illuminate a more complete detail of it. A beast. I thought, my
(09:07):
god, what was it that wasbent over devouring the carcass? It had
to be a big, old brownbear. But I knew bears well enough
to know that the general shape ofthis creature did not resemble a bear,
and there are no brown bears inWest Virginia unless they are just black bears
with a brown coat. Even thehair, which had gray and black splotches
(09:33):
across its back, couldn't be confusedfor any bear that I know. As
crazy as it sounds, from everygrunt and groan, I would have sworn
it was likely a man, asit sounded famished and it choked down on
chunks of meat. A little moresun and more details, because now I
(09:54):
could see even more, including avery muscular back, kind of like a
bodybuilder. I could see the vtaper and the fact that it wasn't wearing
any clothes. Making a fateful error. I gagged at the nauseating stench coming
from either the carcass of the deeror from the creature from Hell itself.
(10:16):
It heard me, stopped eating,stood erect, and looked straight up at
me. I I felt like mylife was about to be snuffed out in
an instant. As we locked eyes, its face was covered in blood and
dirt. It bared its teeth atme, and I almost lost it and
passed out. I really wanted tojust cry. I thought that I was
(10:39):
looking at death squarely in the eyes. It had to have outweighed me by
two hundred pounds, maybe more.It was hard to judge height, but
I'd say he had a foot anda half on me too. His hands,
they looked like mallets. They wereenormous. As its right hand held
(11:00):
the deer's back leg, it lookedangry and its lips were curled, and
I could see even more of itsblood covered on its blocky teeth. Luckily,
my face was covered in a mask. With only my eyes visible,
it couldn't detect the absolute fear thatI had. All I could do was
(11:20):
whisper, Oh God, please protectme, protect me, Protect me.
My hands were wrapped so tight aroundthat savage one ten that they were cramping
up. It was loaded, Thankgod, it was loaded. What do
I do now? Barely a fewminutes went by, it felt like an
(11:41):
hour. I could describe every featureon its face, the color of its
eyes black, the nose wide,broad concave, and ears flat against the
head, even a long scar acrossits brow, and the fact that it
had a tan colored face. Nowthe morning light spared no details. A
(12:07):
car doors slam broke our gaze,and the giant creature dragged its carcass off
into the woods at a rapid speed. It seemed like a fraction of a
second and it was gone. Theforest had swallowed him up. It was
old man Cawthorne who'd come to checkon me. In all my years,
he'd never done that. Something musthave been wrong. I dared not tell
(12:31):
him what just happened, but Ifelt an obligation to make sure he and
I got out of there and safeback to our vehicles. Apparently my check
had bounced, the one I'd givenhim the prior week. That was the
problem. I never thought my checkbook would save me, at least not
in that way. As Dad recountedthe story to me, he joked a
(12:56):
little but he was mostly serious,and I was aware of just how it
affected him. I never questioned hisfeelings or sincerity for as many times as
he shared it privately with me.Mike, I hope I don't sound foolish,
but if this creature is alive andwell and running around our woods,
then anything is possible. Hopefully mydad doesn't turn over in his grave and
(13:22):
understands why I shared the story.Not for fame, not for notoriety,
not for money, but to teacha little safety. People need to know
that Bigfoot is real. While ona hike down a mountain trail in Shenandoah
(13:50):
Mountains off Skyline Drive in the stateof Virginia, I was following a small
brook that, according to the parkranger that I spoke with, said it
would lead me to a waterfall atthe bottom end. There I could make
camp for the night. About oneam, I heard this noise that scared
the hell out of me. Largerocks were being thrown from what seemed to
(14:11):
be two to three hundred feet awayup the trail. My only exit strategy
was to go through the same path, and that wasn't going to happen,
not at night and not on thesame turf as whatever was making that noise.
I heard heavy footprints that came towhat I would say a hundred feet
from my location at my tent.When I fired off a round from my
(14:35):
three fifty seven magnum aimed into theground, whatever it was took off.
I still didn't go back into thetent that night. I spent the night
leaning up against a tree, coveredup with a blanket, with no fire.
The next morning I quickly made mygetaway. I was so scared I
(14:56):
left my tent with only my foodand water. I believe a good look
at my intruder the night before.Understand there was a good four hour hike
to the car. At this point, two ridge peaks surrounded my exit path,
just as they did at my venturedown the hill. Halfway up the
mountain, I heard the same strangenoises I heard hours earlier. To my
(15:20):
left lies the rising sun coming overa ridge peak that was maybe eighty feet
away at that point. Looking up, I caught a clearer view of a
half human figure standing over the edgeof the peak with the morning sun behind
its back. It was at thatpoint I heard the horrifying scream that has
(15:41):
haunted me till this day. Itsounded like a baby screaming, then turned
into the deepest, full winded,long drawn out howl I've ever heard.
Right now, just talking about itmakes the hair stand upon my neck.
I emptied every of the gun inthe general direction of whatever it was,
(16:03):
and then it disappeared. I ranas fast as I could, loading my
gun at a full sprint uphill caddycorner to the intruder. When I reached
the safety of my car, Ialmost started crying. The relief was that
great. I've really got the hellscared out of me. I told the
ranger at the gate where I sixtyfour runs into the Blue Ridge Parkway,
(16:27):
and he insisted I wait for arelief ranger to get there to take him
over for him. I was tothen show this to the US Park Service
ranger the sight to where it alltook place. I did stay and waited
for the relief ranger, and thenhe followed me to the trail I'd been
on. When he got there,he had this look on his face and
(16:51):
said, this part of the skylinewas supposed to be closed down for the
coming snow. This is interesting becausethe ranger who gave me the tip on
a cool campsite. Sure didn't sayanything about any closed sections due to any
approaching storms. It was news tome. I think at this point he
was basically saying that they were goingto close it down to investigate. But
(17:15):
on the other hand, I thinkthey or he used the upcoming bad weather
for an excuse to close down thesite. In hindsight, on the way
back up the trail that the secondencounter happened, I am sure that my
shots hit the creature. The creaturewas very close, too close, at
(17:37):
a forty degree angle from my position. I have been a marksman for some
time. I've been in televised sharpshooterfinals and have served as a rangemaster on
two separate occasions. My house isfull of sharpshooting trophies, so I can
honestly say that there is a verygood chance I hit him. I may
(17:59):
have had the craps scared out ofme, but my hand never shakes when
I hold a weapon. I didrun and reload at the same time.
I ran like a bat out ofhell, but due to the size of
what I believe was a bigfoot,there was no way I would have gone
up to check the kill unless Ihad at least a Remington seven hundred mag
(18:19):
on my shoulder, because the creaturewas that big. It was the first
time in my life I knew aroundfrom a three fifty seven magnum would not
take down the creature that I wasshooting at. This all just mystifies me
to this day. Thanks so muchfor listening to The Big Fitts Wilderness Podcast.
(18:48):
I've got to get back on thishorse and keep putting out these stories.
It's been a very busy time forme at work, and I'm just
trying to make sure that I'm getout as many stories as I can in
the near future. So everyone havea great night. Thanks so much for
listening. Take care the
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