sasquatch chronicles blog

A listener writes “I moved to a fairly rural part of New York, when I was 21 years old, in 2011. You’ve interviewed a couple of people on past episodes who lived not far from me at all. One was in Wellsville, NY a somewhat zany gentleman and his sons who had an experience and another was a man who had a run-in while driving near the Kinzua Dam area.

I grew up loving the outdoors and was involved in Scouts from elementary school through high school. I was very fortunate to spend a lot of time camping, hiking, and backpacking all over the country, with many of my longer treks taking place in New Mexico and Colorado. Before moving to Cattaraugus County, I lived about 900 miles south/southeast in a very large, densely populated city. I had visited this area growing up to see family, and it always felt like a good place to slow down and escape the constant hustle and bustle so eventually, I made the move.

I found a job and a place to stay, and beyond that, my time was largely my own. I spent a lot of it exploring the 115 acres of land my grandmother owned. This region’s landscape was shaped by glaciers long ago and is part of the Allegheny Plateau. It’s very different from where I grew up and unlike anywhere else I’d seriously explored. The terrain has an odd, almost random waviness to it steep ravines, hills rising 600 feet or more, and endless nooks and crannies. It can be surprisingly disorienting.

For the first three years or so, I lived in a small town and spent most of my time alone, much of it wandering those woods. During that period, there were maybe four occasions when, completely out of nowhere, I’d get this overwhelming feeling that I needed to leave immediately. It felt like I was being watched hair standing up on the back of my neck, a deep gut instinct telling me to get out now. I’d always stop and scan my surroundings, trying to find something anything that might explain the feeling, but I never saw anything. Still, I trusted that instinct every time. I’d put my head down, keep quiet, and quickly make my way back to my truck.

I’ve encountered black bears, bear cubs, deer exploding out of the brush, and grouse flushing at my feet all of which definitely get your heart racing. But none of those experiences came close to that sudden, unprovoked need to GTFO that seemed to come from nowhere.

Fast forward to May 2025. I now have a wonderful wife and beautiful young kids. I haven’t spent much time in those woods in the last couple of years, but I still live only about two miles away as the crow flies and have been in the area for roughly ten years. Just two to three miles down the road is about 4,200 acres of state forest. The terrain makes deer hunting a real pain since motor vehicles aren’t allowed, so it doesn’t see as much traffic as other public hunting lands I’ve been on.

As often happens with young kids, they end up in the bed with their mom in the middle of the night, which usually means I get booted to the couch in the living room. From there, there’s a large picture window overlooking the valley we live in. Around 4:00 a.m., I woke up because a bright light was illuminating the paneled wall to the right of me. We live outside of town very little traffic, no streetlights and the house sits elevated above the road, so it couldn’t have been headlights. It was unusual enough to fully wake me.

I stood up and looked out the bay window across the valley at least 300 yards away, if I had to guess and saw a bright white, round light hovering off the ground. Four beams extended upward and outward from it. I stood there for several seconds, trying to make sure I was actually awake and not imagining things.

I grabbed my phone to record, but I was too freaked out to go outside onto the porch. Instead, I rested the phone against the windowpane to steady it. The moment I hit the red record button, the outward beams instantly disappeared, leaving just the light itself, which now looked more like an orb. I recorded it through the glass, which I’m sure hurt the quality, but I had this strong feeling that I didn’t want whatever it was to see me or hear me or even know I was there. I was genuinely shaken.

I watched and recorded it for a while, and it just stayed there. That made me even more uneasy, so I did what felt safest in the moment: I went back to bed, like a scared puppy, and tried to convince myself it had been some kind of sleepwalking or half-dream state. But when I woke up in the morning, the videos were still on my phone so here we are.

You know more about reports of orbs than I do, but I can’t help noticing some similarities. I’m not great with computers, but I’m trying to attach a few videos so everything is documented. There should be three clips, approximately 0:45, 3:18, and 0:26 in length. I also have photos, including some with reference sketches drawn over them.

I don’t really know what to make of it all, but that woman’s story along with many others has me wondering.”

On the night of August 18, 2022, a Gulfstream G650 corporate jet flying westward from the U.S. mainland toward Maui reportedly encountered multiple bright, luminous objects at altitude, above the jet’s at 47,000 ft cruising level.

Rusty writes “One of the places we hunt is an early-1900s farm that borders the Uwharrie National Forest in North Carolina, near the Uwharrie River. Over the years, we’ve experienced so many strange and unexplainable events there that it’s impossible to neatly categorize them.

In the past several years, we’ve documented a great deal of what’s happened, including some truly eye-opening encounters. We have photographs and a game-camera video of something that no one has been able to positively identify. It’s unsettling, to say the least.

I’m also part of a hunting club, where we’ve had even more direct interactions recently. You may be familiar with the 30-second law enforcement officer sighting in the Sumter National Forest that made national news last year, that incident occurred only a few miles from our hunting property. So far, six people associated with the hunting property have experienced unusual activity firsthand.”

From The Shadows writes “Was it a Skin-walker or a monster? Whatever Drew encountered one terrifying night working outside of Mt. Airy, North Carolina changed his life forever. Not only did he see it again, but so did his wife. Buckle up for one of the scariest stories ever told on the From The Shadows Podcast!”

A listener writes “I served in the U.S. Coast Guard from 2009 to 2015, primarily in Washington State, first in Port Angeles, then in Bellingham. I was a search-and-rescue boat driver and became extremely familiar with the local waterways and terrain. That role trained me to notice details, especially anything out of place during operations or rescues.

I experienced and witnessed a lot of unique situations while living out there, but two incidents in particular stand out as both obvious and deeply unsettling. I now live back in Illinois, about an hour south of Chicago near the Kankakee River an area that has had reports of unusual activity in the past. I currently conduct Bigfoot research along the river west toward the state park and would be very interested in sharing information on the show at some point.

Witness Account – Possible Bigfoot Sighting

Savannah National Wildlife Refuge, August 2012

In late August of 2012, I was living in Bellingham, Washington, but temporarily assigned to Charleston, South Carolina on TDY orders. One weekend, a friend and I drove down to Savannah, Georgia.

At that time, I wanted to believe Bigfoot could exist, but I had never personally experienced anything that would convince me.

While driving back to Charleston, we traveled along a rural highway that cuts directly through the Savannah National Wildlife Refuge. I still have the exact coordinates saved in Google Maps for documentation. We came to a stop at a temporary construction light. There were no other vehicles anywhere on the road.

While waiting at the red light, my friend and I were casually talking about Bigfoot and whether its existence could ever be proven. Mid-sentence, I abruptly stopped talking because something caught my attention.

I was in the passenger seat and looked to my right. There was an open field approximately 100 yards wide leading up to a tree line. Just in front of the trees was a tall, dense thicket possibly pussy willows. What drew my eye was something rising well above the top of the brush.

We could not see a body at all due to the height and density of the vegetation. However, visible above the thicket was what appeared to be a conical-shaped head, light brown in color, moving smoothly from left to right.

What immediately stood out was the way it moved: fast, fluid, and level. There was no bouncing, no vertical change just steady, rapid motion, as if a head were attached to something walking quickly behind the brush.

I was completely fixated and unable to speak. I finally asked my friend if she could see it. She replied, “I don’t know what the hell that is, but it’s fast.”

To both of us, it clearly appeared to be a head moving above the thicket at an unusually quick pace. When we returned to Charleston, I immediately called my parents. I was still in shock from what we had witnessed.

Additional Witness Account – Bellingham, Washington

Near Larrabee State Park, June 2013

In June of 2013, while living in Bellingham, I went on a solo hike near Larrabee State Park. I was not looking for anything unusual just enjoying a rare day off after working an entire weekend.

From the moment I stepped onto the trail, I felt uneasy.

I was carrying my 9mm handgun strictly as a last-resort safety measure for potential animal encounters, something I routinely did on isolated hikes. Almost immediately, I felt as though I was being watched. I had persistent goosebumps and a deep sense of discomfort that never went away. Throughout the hike, I constantly felt compelled to look over my shoulder.

The feeling was intense and continuous.

The weather was clear with no clouds, and it hadn’t rained in nearly a month. The gravel trail was tightly packed, with small, shallow impressions from normal foot traffic.

From about 10 feet away, I noticed a single large indentation in the gravel.

It was only pressed down roughly half an inch, but the size immediately stood out. It appeared to be a footprint far larger than an average human foot. There were no other impressions nearby, just the one.

At the time, I took a photo with my iPhone 4 and placed a Monster Energy drink can next to it for scale. The footprint noticeably dwarfed the can.

Although I never visually encountered anything on that hike, the combination of the overwhelming sense of being watched and the unusually large footprint has stayed with me ever since.”

A listener writes “One of the places we hunt is an early-1900s farm that borders the Uwharrie National Forest in North Carolina, near the Uwharrie River. Over the years, we’ve experienced so many strange and unexplainable events there that it’s impossible to neatly categorize them.

In the past several years, we’ve documented a great deal of what’s happened, including some truly eye-opening encounters. We have photographs and a game-camera video of something that no one has been able to positively identify. It’s unsettling, to say the least.

I’m also part of a hunting club, where we’ve had even more direct interactions recently. You may be familiar with the 30-second law enforcement officer sighting in the Sumter National Forest that made national news last year, that incident occurred only a few miles from our hunting property. So far, six people associated with the hunting property have experienced unusual activity firsthand.”

As written by Peter Byrne, “According to Indigenous accounts, Vancouver Island an immense landmass of 12,408 square miles off the west coast of British Columbia was once home to a significant population of Bigfoot. The Indigenous peoples of the island were aware of these beings, feared them, and respected them, yet generally believed they were not aggressive.

One member of the Nootka (Nuu-chah-nulth) people, living at Nootka in 1928, later claimed he had been taken by them and held captive for a period of time.

This account was related to me by Father Anthony Terhaar of Mount Angel Abbey in Oregon. Father Anthony, a well-known and deeply respected missionary priest, traveled extensively along the west coast of Vancouver Island for many years. At the time of the incident, he was stationed at Nootka and personally knew the man at the center of the story: Muchalat Harry.

Muchalat Harry was a trapper and something of an exception among his people. Father Anthony described him as tough, fearless, and powerfully built. Unlike most coastal Indigenous people of that era who regarded the deep inland forests with caution and rarely entered them alone Muchalat Harry traveled the wilderness by himself without fear. The forests, after all, were believed to be the domain of the Bigfoot.

In late autumn, Muchalat Harry set out on what was meant to be a long trapping expedition. Carrying his traps and camping gear, he paddled his canoe from Nootka to the mouth of the Conuma River at the head of Tlupana Inlet. There he cached the canoe and proceeded upstream on foot. About twelve miles inland, he built a lean-to and established a base camp, from which he began setting his trap line.

One night, while asleep in his blankets and wearing only his woolen underwear, Muchalat Harry was suddenly seized by a large male Bigfoot. The creature lifted him effortlessly and carried him into the hills, traveling perhaps two or three miles. When daylight came, Muchalat Harry realized he was in a crude camp beneath a high rock overhang. Surrounding him were approximately twenty Bigfoot males in front, females behind them, and the young at the rear.

At first, they merely stared.

His fear turned to terror when he noticed numerous bones scattered around the site. Convinced he was to be killed and eaten, he pressed his back against the rock wall and remained completely still. The Bigfoot, however, did not harm him. Occasionally one approached and touched him curiously. When they discovered that his “skin” was loose his woolen underwear several gently tugged at it, apparently puzzled.

Cold, hungry, and terrified, Muchalat Harry waited for an opportunity to escape. Late in the afternoon, as most of the Bigfoot left the camp likely to gather food he sprang to his feet and ran. He fled downhill toward where he believed the river lay and soon reached his campsite. In blind panic he did not stop, but continued running the full twelve miles downstream to the place where his canoe was hidden.

Father Anthony later described Muchalat Harry’s return to Nootka. It was around three in the morning. The village was asleep when wild cries echoed across the inlet. Lights appeared, and people rushed to the shore. There they found Muchalat Harry collapsed in his canoe, nearly frozen and exhausted. He was barefoot, clad only in torn, soaked underwear, having paddled forty-five miles through the winter night from the mouth of the Conuma River.

He was carried ashore nearly lifeless. It took three weeks of constant care to restore him to physical and mental health. Father Anthony, who personally nursed him, later told me that during those three weeks Muchalat Harry’s hair turned completely white.

The story of the abduction emerged slowly. At first, Muchalat Harry would speak to no one. Eventually he confided in Father Anthony, and later in others. When he had fully recovered, he was asked when he intended to return to retrieve his belongings his camp equipment, trap line, cookware, and especially his rifle. In 1928, such items represented great value. Yet Muchalat Harry never returned. He not only abandoned his possessions, but never again entered the forest for the rest of his life. According to Father Anthony, he remained at Nootka permanently, unwilling to risk another encounter.

In late 1972, I visited Vancouver Island while conducting a routine investigation. From Nanaimo I drove west, stopping in Gold River to obtain maps and directions from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. By then, a logging road extended to the mouth of the Conuma River. One quiet Sunday morning, with logging traffic absent, I drove in and made camp.

For several days I explored the riverbed and surrounding forest, attempting to estimate where Muchalat Harry’s lean-to might once have stood. I identified a promising site twelve miles upstream near a series of high bluffs. The salmon were running, and throughout the night I heard them splashing through the shallows. In the mornings, black bears moved along the river, feeding on stranded fish. I counted six bears over several days.

The country was wild and largely deserted. The mouth of the Conuma, where it met the salt waters of the inlet, was among the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Though some forest near the river had been logged, the work had moved on, and the area was quiet once more.

Mornings began with mist rising from the river, giving way to crisp autumn days. Evenings were cool and damp, and nights were bright with starlight. I found no sign of Bigfoot, nor any trace of Muchalat Harry’s camp unsurprising after more than forty years.

Yet the river and forest themselves remained unchanged. The salmon, the cold clear water, the moss-covered banks, the shallow spawning pools, the river birds, the slow-moving bears, and the deep silent inlet were all as they must have been decades earlier, when Muchalat Harry cached his canoe and walked alone into the wilderness.

It was misty and very cold in the early morning hours of March 17, 1981, as Sergeant Russell Yokum of the Saint Helens, Oregon, Police Department drove on patrol on Highway 30 west of the Columbia River. Saint Helens is a small mill town about 20 miles northwest of Portland.

At 4:03 a.m., Yokum’s attention was drawn to a bright light that was moving upriver, easterly, toward the Portland Airport 20 miles away. Aircraft passed over here regularly on their way to the airport. But this light was extraordinarily bright, lighting up the river like daylight. Yokum was immediately convinced that the light was not from an aircraft. He radioed headquarters, and drove on to Saint Helens to look at the light from the county courthouse on the banks of the Columbia River, which afforded a clear view.

The Elkanah Walker Encounter (as told in frontier legend). The year was said to be the late 1830s, when the forests of the Pacific Northwest were still unbroken cathedrals of cedar and fir. Elkanah Walker had traveled far from the world he knew past rivers that never seemed to end, into mountains that swallowed sound.

One evening, as dusk bled into the trees, Walker made camp alone near the edge of a narrow valley. The local tribes had warned him about this place. Not of wolves. Not of bears.

“The Tall One walks there,” they said.
A watcher. A man-not-man.

Walker, a man of faith and reason, wrote the warnings down but did not turn back.

That night, the forest went still.

No insects. No wind. Even the fire seemed to shrink in on itself. Then came the sound slow, deliberate footfalls, heavy enough to tremble the ground. Whatever was moving did not rush. It approached.

From the treeline emerged a shape taller than any man Walker had known. Broad shoulders brushed branches aside. Its body was covered in dark, matted hair, glistening faintly in the firelight. The smell reached him next wet earth and musk.

Walker stood frozen, heart hammering so loud he was sure it could be heard.

The creature stopped just beyond the fire’s edge.

Its eyes, deep and dark, reflected the flames not with the blank stare of an animal, but with something unsettlingly aware. It cocked its head, as if studying him. Measuring.

Walker later wrote that he felt seen, not threatened, but judged like a trespasser who had wandered somewhere sacred.

Then the creature did something unexpected.

It lifted one massive hand, palm outward. Not a wave. Not a threat. A warning.

A single, low vocalization rolled from its chest half growl, half breath vibrating through the ground itself. The fire flickered wildly. Walker fell to his knees, praying aloud, unable to stop himself.

When he looked up again, the forest had swallowed the figure whole.

The night sounds returned as if nothing had happened.

At dawn, Walker found footprints near the camp longer than a man’s boot, pressed deep into the soil, each step spaced impossibly far apart. He followed them only a short distance before they vanished into rocky ground.

He never camped in that valley again.

And though he spoke little of it, those who knew him said Walker was changed after that night more respectful of the wilderness, slower to dismiss the old stories, and careful never to call the forest empty again.

Because, he believed, something ancient was still walking there.

Watching.

I will be welcoming Pete Breidahl to the show. In 2008 Pete was a soldier serving as a “Peacekeeper” on Guadalcanal in the Solomon Island chain, when on a long-range patrol deep into its impenetrable jungles, Pete met a terrified young man that had never met a white man before.

But he wasn’t scared by the soldiers, he feared the creature he had encountered that morning while hunting. He described a classic “Bigfoot” type creature, and after a quick google search back at base Pete soon realized that Bigfoot and “Giant” sightings on Guadalcanal were very common indeed. Pete never forgot this encounter and returned in search of the creatures as soon as he had left the military.

Check out his book Hominid Hunter: The search for un-described South Pacific hominids

Bigfoot and Beyond writes “Cliff Barackman, James “Bobo” Fay, and Matt Pruitt discuss the necessity and value of investigating the history of sasquatchy!”

Salish Sasquatch writes “Come with us to Morton, Washington as we recall a significant even that happened in March of 2022. To learn more about this area, we have multiple videos and documentaries.”

A listener writes “I lived in Washington many years ago and had two possible encounters. The first took place near Chehalis, where I was living in a wooded area. On several evenings, I heard heavy, bipedal footsteps moving through the trees, along with repeated tree knocking. The sounds were deliberate and unsettling, and they happened more than once.

The second encounter was more definitive and occurred near Leavenworth. One evening, something at least seven feet tall crossed the road directly in front of me. It was completely black and crossed a two-lane road in no more than four steps.

These events happened roughly fifty years ago, when I was in my twenties.

At the time, I had a friend who lived about a mile away near Chehalis. He was a very logical, serious man, not prone to exaggeration or belief in the unusual. When I told him about what I had experienced, he told me plainly that it was Bigfoot. He then shared that he and his brother had both had two encounters of their own a few years earlier.”

A listener writes “I had an encounter in 2023. My dad is a horse veterinarian, and at the time I was at his clinic in North Carolina. Behind the clinic there’s a large hill, and while I was looking in that direction, I saw something run across it.

It was incredibly tall around seven feet with its entire body covered in hair. It didn’t look human at all. The hair was gray, and its face strongly resembled that of an ape rather than a man. The way it moved was fast and powerful, and the sight of it stuck with me.

I also want to share a separate experience from my friend, Corbin, who gave me permission to tell his story. Corbin and his family were camping in a tent at Cades Cove in Blount County, Tennessee. Late one night, Corbin woke up after hearing heavy footsteps outside the tent. He was the only one in his family who woke up.

He slowly unzipped the tent and looked outside. What he saw immediately caught his attention large, gray, furry hands touching the campsite grill. When he looked up, he realized the figure attached to those hands was massive, far larger than his father, who is over six feet tall. The encounter only lasted a moment, but it left a lasting impression on him.

Thank you for allowing me to share both my experience and Corbin’s.”

ThinkerThunker writes “This is the proof part (episode two) of the family from East Texas who submitted their, not just Bigfoot vocalizations, but multiple tracks and and FLIR footage of what they believe is proof that a family of Bigfoot have moved onto their and their neighbor’s property. See what you think.”

The Beast of Trinity Texas – As a small town in East Texas unravels, murders point to evidence of a mythical beast. A war veteran turned sheriff and his team must navigate a web of deception spun by money, power, and greed in hopes of saving the people of Trinity.

I will be speaking to Terry Weaver, filmmaker and the Executive Producer of The Beast of Trinity Texas. Terry told me he did not believe in Bigfoot before the film. While making the film he interviewed eyewitnesses who had seen the creature. It was during those interviews Terry said “These people are not lying, they saw something.”

The Beast of Trinity Texas – As a small town in East Texas unravels, murders point to evidence of a mythical beast. A war veteran turned sheriff and his team must navigate a web of deception spun by money, power, and greed in hopes of saving the people of Trinity.

It is available now on Prime.