Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

This happened in 1982 in Kentucky, just north of Cave Run Lake, in late March. Two friends and I decided to skip the typical Spring Break trip to Florida and instead take a week to camp and unwind. It was a last-minute, completely unorganized plan but we didn’t care. We just wanted to get away.

When we finally reached the campground at Cave Run Lake, we discovered it was closed. Poor planning on our part. Fortunately, we found a private campground just outside the park gates. It was empty, of course, but the owner was incredibly friendly and told us we could choose any spot we wanted. Under a full moon and a sky full of stars, with unseasonably mild weather, we set up camp.

My tent went up quickly, while my buddies struggled with theirs, so I got a fire going and started prepping chicken for dinner. With the fire lit, I sat at the picnic table, admiring the massive moon rising over the eastern hill. That hill had exactly two trees silhouetted against the moon nothing else. To the north stood a line of thick, towering timber.

Once the chicken was on the fire, I noticed my friend staring at the same hill with a strange look. He asked, “Weren’t there two trees up there?”

When I looked again, only one remained.

The next morning, my friends headed to the lake to try for crappie. I couldn’t shake the question, Where did that second tree go? I followed a small game trail up the eastern hill to look for answers. At the top, I found the lone tree about nine feet tall. Whatever the “other tree” had been, it had been just as large. The realization unsettled me, and I headed back down the hill.

To make the descent easier, I stepped into the small stream that ran along the hillside. No trees, no brush just open banks. About halfway down, on a sandbar roughly the size of a car hood, I found a single, clear footprint. Toes, shape, everything. Pressed at least two inches deep. I later took Polaroids with my size-12 boot and a Bowie knife for scale the print was a minimum of 18 inches long. Those photos were eventually lost in a flood.

But that isn’t the reason I’m writing.

When I left the creek and walked back toward camp, I stumbled on something even stranger a flat granite slab the size of a car trunk lid, about two inches thick, with three round river stones each the size of a grapefruit arranged in a perfect triangle. On top of the stones was another granite slab of the same size.

Those slabs easily weighed 800 to 1000 pounds. And there were no river rocks anywhere in that area.

When I asked the campground owner about it, he simply said, “He won’t hurt you. He’s just passing through.”

The next day, we were screamed at from the woods and we left immediately.

The encounter itself may not be unusual for people who’ve had similar experiences, but what I really want to share is the rock structure. Maybe it has nothing to do with the rest of the events, but there is no way that formation was natural.”