Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

A listener writes “I’m 44 years old, and I’ve been listening to your show for years. Over time, I’ve realized how much comfort people seem to get from hearing these kinds of accounts.

I’ve been reluctant to share my own experience, but I feel like this story needs to be told. It may even help explain a lot to people who live in the area where this happened.

This took place in mid-November of 2019, during the height of COVID. At the time, I was doing outdoor construction work with my father-in-law, who owned his own business. We were building a pool for a client in Meadow Vista, California. That day we got off early because we ran out of materials. It didn’t make sense to send everyone to the yard and back with daylight running out, so we shut it down early.

I had been trying to find time to harvest a Christmas tree from the Sierra Nevada region, east of Auburn, and this suddenly felt like the perfect opportunity. I knew I needed a permit, so I left the job and headed straight to the ranger station on Wentworth Springs Road near Georgetown. They closed around 4:30 or 5:00 p.m., and it was about 2:00–2:30 when I made the decision. The station was about an hour and a half away, so I hustled. I got there in time, picked up the permit, and realized I was already close to the spot where I planned to cut a tree.

I knew exactly where I wanted to go about a 45 minute drive deeper into the forest. As I drove down the narrow, one-lane road toward the trailhead, the sun was setting. Snow covered the road, and my truck at the time was only two-wheel drive. I wasn’t prepared for those conditions, but turning around wasn’t really an option. I figured I’d make it to the trailhead, where I could turn around and follow my own tracks back out.

By the time I arrived, the sun had fully set. The trail was a well established hiking and motocross trail, so I didn’t need a light to follow it, but I did need one to find a decent tree. I put on my headlamp and walked down the trail until I reached a familiar opening. That’s where I found the tree I wanted. I was genuinely excited, I’d found the perfect one.

I pulled out my saw and started cutting, but almost immediately the old wooden handle broke in my hand. Earlier that day I’d even thought to myself, this saw probably won’t hold up, but it was all I had. Then I remembered seeing Les Stroud use a knife and a sturdy stick as a makeshift hatchet. I had a full tang Buck knife on my belt, so I found a solid piece of wood and used it to chop the tree down. Surprisingly, it worked incredibly well faster and easier than using a saw.

By now, it was completely dark.

As I started dragging the tree back toward my truck, I began hearing movement in the snow off the trail—on both sides of me. It felt like I was being followed, but not from behind. When I stopped, whatever it was stopped too. The sounds stayed roughly 15 to 25 feet off the trail on either side. When I picked up my pace, the movement matched it.

This continued all the way back until I reached the barrier that blocks vehicles from driving down the trail. As I threw the tree into the bed of my truck, I heard what sounded like someone talking behind me. I felt a presence not necessarily evil, but unmistakably there. I felt eyes on me, Wes.

Winter forests are usually quiet, but that night it was quieter than quiet eerily silent. I got into my truck and left, carefully but steadily. I haven’t been back since.

What makes this even stranger is that I had an experience at that same trailhead when I was about 12 years old. My dad and I had just finished a long summer hike and returned to the car around 9:30 at night. We were standing about 50 feet to the right of the trail opening, eating sandwiches. The gravel road was 75 to 100 feet to our left, and across it was a gulch with a creek running through it.

We were mid-conversation when we suddenly heard what sounded like a heavy log being thrown violently against the hillside inside that gulch. We both froze, then instinctively grabbed each other like Scooby-Doo and Shaggy. We packed up and left immediately.

If and when you read this, I just want people to know that this is not a fabrication. This really happened. I’ve only shared it with a handful of people over the years. Some believed me, some didn’t. I’ve always been hesitant to talk about it. I never actually saw a creature, and I suppose it could have been people—but when I look at the area on Google Maps, there’s nothing nearby that explains what I experienced.

I honestly don’t know what it was.”