I used to hunt Elk in an area of the Oregon Coast range known as God’s Valley. My best friends father introduced us to this area. It was a large farmstead in the middle of the Tillamook State Forest that had been abandoned to the state when the owner died in the 1940’s. All that was left were several large grass fields surrounded by dense forest. It was prime elk habitat as the elk would come down to the fields to graze at night. My friend and I noticed some strange things about the area while camping in the summer and hunting in the fall. There was an area about 1/2 mile from camp we referred to as the Dead Zone. It was a strange area that gave us bad vibes. The forest would be alive with game and game trails. Elk, pheasant, squirrel, coyote etc. Then almost like crossing a line painted on the ground there was an area about 1/4 mile long where nothing and I mean nothing, lived. No game trails, no squirrels barking, not even birds in the trees, no sounds, even the air was still. Then 1/4 mile later you would cross another invisible line and bam! The forest would be alive again. That was the Dead Zone.
September 30th 1994 I left work that Friday, packed then headed to God’s Valley for the Opening day of Coast Black tail Deer season. God’s Valley was not a real good area for deer but I was by myself and didn’t know any other a hunting areas very well. After driving for about 2.5 hours I left the blacktop and was on the logging roads. At the time God’s Valley was at the end of a dead end logging road 7 miles from the highway. During elk season there are dozens of camps and RV’s parked along the road and several down at God’s Valley. I was quite surprised that when I arrived to the valley at about midnight it was deserted and I did not see a single camp or RV the entire way in.
I pulled all the way into the large U shaped clearing. At the bottom of the U was a huge old growth Douglas Fir with a rock firepit close by. I parked about 30 feet from the tree and left my headlights shining on its base while I set up camp. I had Black Sabbath turned way up as I unpacked my truck. About 20 minutes later I was bent over setting up my dome tent when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I turned my head and thought I heard a commotion coming from the woods. It was hard to hear over the music. I walked to the drivers door of my truck and turned the music down. I listened and heard nothing so I shrugged it off, turned my music up and went back to work.
A couple minutes later I distinctly heard a loud snap of a breaking branch to the left of my camp. I walked to my truck and turned my music off again. I listened intently for at least a minute then I heard a very light rustle of leaves and a twig snap. The sound came from the woods on the other side of a 50 foot long blackberry bush that ended just short of the big old growth tree. About a minute later I heard another soft footfall. Then another. At the time it reminded me of my own sounds when quietly stalking game through the forest. For some reason I thought it was another hunter or someone playing a joke. I called out “Hello, someone there?!” Silence, nothing. About another full minute later another couple of soft crunches. There is a game trail on the other side of the blackberry’s. Whatever is making the sound is on the trail and slowly coming closer to where the blackberries end at the base of the tree.
By this point Im getting nervous. Maybe it’s a drunk hunter playing games but Im by myself 7 miles into one of the thickest forests in the US. I was carrying a revolver in a shoulder holster. My rifle and speed loaders were cased and underneath a ton of shit behind the seat.
I drew my revolver and yelled “Hey quit fucking around, I got a gun and this shit ain’t funny!” No response, nothing. I figured I would either hear a man running away, busting brush of an animal running or something but there was only silence. About a minute later I can hear more creeping steps along the trail. It’s get closer to the gap between the blackberries and the tree. Perhaps 30 feet away now. My headlights are shining on the bottom of the tree but I still can’t see anything.
I made the loudest most guttural scream I could muster. I could hear it echo through the valley. More silence. A minute later more quiet stalking footsteps. Im 6’3, 260 lbs. It sounds like a man my size or better trying to be quiet. Two legs? I see a large shadow move into the gap and behind the tree. The tree is about 5 feet wide. I am now scared for my life. I fire a round high up into the tree. The gunshot echoed for a long time. I saw part of a tall shape and yellowish eyes peer at me from behind the tree. I screamed as loud as I could and fired two more shots into the tree. The shots echoed for along time then silence. I didn’t see it anymore. I stood there waiting. I had 2 or 3 shots left. I wasn’t sure. After about half a minute it just walked away into the woods. It was no longer trying to be quiet but it wasn’t in a hurry. It just walked away into the darkness. I listened for a couple minutes until I couldn’t hear it anymore. I picked up my entire set up dome tent, threw it in the back of my truck. I threw my pots, pans and cooler and everything else on top. I was out of there and back on the gravel road 90 seconds later.
I drove the 2 and ½ hours back to Portland shaking. I arrived at my friends house at about 3 in the morning. I woke him up and told him what happened. The next afternoon we packed several rifles and drove back. I had to show him and see if we could find anything. It looked much different in the daylight. We parked at the base of the tree and looked around. On the trail behind the tree we could clearly see it’s prints in the soft earth. It’s prints were almost half again as large as my size 13 boots. The footprints were so far apart that I had to stretch my legs as far as they would go to match the stride.
Since then I no longer go into the forest alone