Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

A listener writes “I was in seventh grade, around twelve or thirteen years old, when I had my encounter. It must have been either the fall or spring following the September 11th attacks, around 2001 or 2002. I can’t quite recall the exact time of year. I do remember it wasn’t winter because it wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t summer because it was during the school year.

I found myself on a hunting trip with my father in the far northeast part of central Texas. We were on a private hunting ranch owned by one of his friends. It wasn’t deer season, and we were the sole occupants of the area at that time. There were several other vacant cabins nearby. This was more of a weekend getaway than a serious hunting expedition. We were there to immerse ourselves in the outdoors and hunt varmints (as my dad would say), or if we got lucky, wild boar.

The place itself was quite idyllic, with goats, sheep, and a small herd of cattle. There were even several bison that I became enamored with. During one of our hikes, I stumbled upon an actual arrowhead half-buried in the dirt. I still regret losing track of it somewhere along the way to adulthood.

My father and I were hiking the property. We were exploring and scouting potential hunting spots. I had my trusty .22 rifle, and he likely had his .30-30, though I can’t recall for certain. As we walked along the game trails deep in the woods, we had encountered some wildlife. We did see some wild pigs, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Then, as I gazed around, taking in the surroundings, I happened to glance to my right. There, perpendicular to our trail, was a clearing. It wasn’t expansive but it was a narrow, tree-lined opening in the woods. I turned my head to the right, peering down that clearing. To my astonishment, a massive bipedal creature strolled across it. The thing was moving parallel to us. It crossed the clearing in one, or two strides, whereas it would have taken us three or four. It seemed utterly indifferent to our presence. This creature was tall, taller than my father, who stands a little over six feet. Unlike the stereotypical bigfoot image popularized in the media, it appeared more lanky. Its arms hung low, and its legs swung with each step. Its long, dark brown or black hair resembled that of a well-kept long-haired dog, not matted or tangled. It moved in complete silence, and if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have known it was there. There were no unusual odors, only the typical scents of the woods.

I grew up watching paranormal mysteries and episodes of unsolved mysteries. I recognized what it was the moment I laid eyes on it, yet I didn’t feel fear. I didn’t utter a word to my dad; instead, I continued walking as if nothing extraordinary had occurred. I must have been in shock. I never caught sight of it again, but I was certain it was still nearby.

That night turned out to be one of the most unsettling experiences of my life. I believed that I’d wake up in the darkness and find that creature standing outside the curtain-less window. It would be looking in at me right across from where I was asleep. I did confide in my dad that I was afraid of bigfoot, but I never disclosed what I had seen. To this day, I’ve never spoken to him about it.

I can’t say I slept much that night. I remember lying there, gripped by fear. I resented my father for bringing me there for the weekend. Yet, nothing else transpired.”