sasquatch chronicles blog

In this episode of Mysteries Unknown, Chad shares a chilling firsthand account of a series of encounters that began years ago in rural Louisiana and escalated near Fouke, Arkansas one of the most infamous locations connected to unexplained sightings.

What started as strange whistles in the woods turned into repeated and deeply unsettling experiences involving a camper, violent impacts, unexplained growls, and a presence so close it left him completely unable to move. Chad describes moments of intense fear paralysis as something circled his camper in the darkness, just feet away, unseen but unmistakably there.

Over time, the activity didn’t stop. From massive dents in the camper to something physically pushing against it, missing deer carcasses, disturbed hunting areas, and sightings under distant lights that revealed unnatural movement and proportions whatever this was, it kept returning.

Explore Grays Harbor’s Bigfoot activity with Salish Sasquatch. This documentary features eyewitness accounts, intriguing audio recordings, and the strategic placement of recording devices in a lush forest environment.

Campers recount unexplained thuds, knocks, and even a possible vocalization.

Thomas Jane is an American actor and executive producer. He’s known for his roles in films like Boogie Nights, Deep Blue Sea, The Punisher, and The Mist. Thomas details his spooky encounter with an unknown creature as a child.

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.”

A listener writes “I’ll start with a couple of stories from the 1990s that my father told me. At the time, he worked as a tree planter for Weyerhaeuser. One day, he and another guy were driving logging roads near Kalama when they stopped so my dad could use the bathroom. He said he could see the river through the trees below the embankment.

When he finished, he noticed what he thought was a round cut log near his feet. He casually kicked it down the hill only for a large, black, hairy creature to jump up onto two legs. According to my dad, it immediately took off, running straight across the river. He estimated the distance to be about two football fields, and the thing covered it in roughly ten seconds. My dad has told this story the same way for as long as I can remember, without ever changing the details. I can get more specifics if needed.

Another time, while my dad was planting trees for Weyerhaeuser, an upper-management employee was out inspecting sites. This guy had left his truck window down. One of the workers my dad planted with stole a map from the truck so he and my dad could locate Weyerhaeuser gates for hunting later. What stood out was that the map had Bigfoot stamps marked at various locations areas where Weyerhaeuser apparently knew Sasquatch sightings had occurred.

Now for the two experiences I was personally involved in.

The first happened in the summer of around 2005, above Riffe Lake near Mossyrock. It was my first real hiking and camping trip, and I was about eleven or twelve years old. We hiked six miles into Vanson Lake in the Goat Mountains and stayed for four days. The group included my dad, one of his friends and his wife, their dog, a buddy of mine, and me. My friend and I shared a tent for the first couple of nights, but on the third night my dad offered space in his larger tent, so I moved my sleeping bag there.

Sometime during the night, I woke up to my dad saying, “What is that sound?” Across the lake which isn’t very big something was hollering louder than anything I’d ever heard in my life. I was absolutely terrified. The dog was lying outside the tent near my head, growling nonstop. My dad asked me if I heard it, and all I could do was shake and say yes. He stepped outside and fired his .22 pistol into the lake to scare whatever it was away. Eventually, the noise stopped.

About ten minutes after my dad got back into the tent, the dog started growling again, and my fear came rushing back. This cycle continued for what felt like hours until I finally fell asleep. What’s strange is that my buddy never woke up once through any of it.

Years later, I listened to Bigfoot Society episode 628, “Deadman’s Lake,” and the encounter described was incredibly similar to mine. It happened around the same year, and Vanson Lake is only about a six-mile hike from Deadman’s Lake. The sound was comparable to the Ohio howl recordings, mixed with the Klamath sounds but more like a scream. I never saw the creature, but I’ll never forget that sound.

The final experience happened during one of our annual boys’ trips. Every summer, my friends and I head out to a remote lake, usually kayaking across with our gear so we can avoid other people. That year, we chose Lake Ozette on the Olympic Peninsula. There were six of us, and we stayed for four nights at a small beach area called Ericsons Bay. Our tents were a few minutes’ walk from the shoreline.

I brought a bivy sack that year because I was still uneasy about sleeping after my earlier experience. I also had an inflatable hammock and seriously considered sleeping alone on the beach that night. Typically, on the second and third nights, we play Dungeons & Dragons pretty nerdy, but it’s tradition. On the last night, after finishing our game around midnight or 1 a.m., everyone went to bed except one buddy and me. The fire had burned down to glowing coals, just bright enough to see each other, and the moonlight was strong as well. We stayed on the beach talking for a couple of hours.

Around 3 a.m., between us and the South Sand Point hiking trail, we heard a howl that sounded exactly like the Ohio recordings. I knew immediately what it was. My friend started getting nervous and asked what the sound was. It was loud and close, and it kept howling repeatedly for five to ten minutes. Eventually, we had enough. Just before leaving the beach, I shined my very bright flashlight into the area where the sound was coming from. The noise stopped instantly and completely, which was incredibly unsettling.

We went back to our sleeping areas, and nothing else happened that night. The next morning, we told the rest of the group what we’d heard. None of them had heard the howls, but more than one person said they thought I was messing with them earlier because they heard something snuffling and sniffing around camp like a pig or some kind of animal.

My personal guess is that whatever was on the beach was either calling to another one or warning it and when the noise stopped, it may have realized we were heading back toward camp.”

BigfootStacy writes “In this episode, we sit down with Dustin Tuedhope, a Florida-based researcher and author of I Found Bigfoot, who describes the moment that pushed him from curiosity into full-scale investigation.

After a close encounter on a Florida river island—one that included aggressive vocalizations—Dustin committed himself to understanding what he experienced.

Since then, he has spent years in the field, documenting what he believes to be Bigfoot activity, capturing audio and video evidence, and analyzing behavior patterns often overlooked in mainstream discussions.”

Join Grassman58’s investigation into unexplained phenomena. This documentary features a remote wilderness hike, exploring potential Bigfoot evidence and strange sounds. The search also includes discussions on cryptids and personal encounters.

ThinkerThunker writes “Quick question: What species in North America is so protective of mushrooms that it screams and ungodly scream just to run off a guy filming mushrooms?

In a time when we can “see & compare” sounds, finally, after a decade, we can now do some simple, scientific comparisons, like marching fingerprints, to see if this terrifying scream was from some known species … or Bigfoot”

From The Shadows writes “Two Dogman creatures stalked and tried to trick two unsuspecting friends who were out artifact hunting in Oklahoma.

Cory joins us to share an experience he had with a friend on his grandfather’s land.

What he experienced gave him a new perspective on the intelligence of these creatures.”

Merry Christmas! 🎄
Wishing you a day filled with peace, warmth, and good stories shared with the people who matter most. I hope the holiday brings you rest, reflection, and a little bit of wonder. Stay safe and enjoy every moment.

A listener writes “I’d like to share an experience I had in late May of 2024 while camping with my son at Two Rivers State Recreation Area near Omaha, Nebraska.

I’ve spent much of my life camping and am very familiar with normal wildlife behavior and typical outdoor conditions. This was not a remote wilderness area, but a busy campground with roughly forty people present.

On our third night, around dusk, I noticed two unusual light phenomena near the wooded edge of our campsite. The first appeared as a bright white, disk-shaped light, roughly one to two feet in diameter, hovering at about knee to waist height near the tree line. It made quick, precise, almost mechanical pivoting movements. Despite its brightness, it did not illuminate the surrounding grass or ground. The light shut off abruptly, and there was no person or source visible in the area.

Shortly after that, I observed a second light emerge from the woods. It traveled in a perfectly straight line across a grassy field, over a roadway, and directly past our campsite. The light pulsed in brightness, disappearing and reappearing multiple times as it moved. It passed within approximately ten feet of me at eye level. At its brightest, it appeared to be somewhere between the size of a softball and a volleyball, then faded completely with nothing visible left behind. It continued on past other campers before disappearing from view.

Later that same night, after dark, I heard unusual vocalizations coming from the nearby woods what sounded like human-like hooting, followed by a distinct clicking sound. Weeks later, I heard that exact same clicking sound produced by a small bird in broad daylight, which added another layer of confusion to the experience.

Of everything that occurred during that trip, the orb sightings stand out as the most significant and unexplained, primarily because of the close proximity and sustained exposure I had to them. If you find this account compelling, I’d be happy to share additional details or discuss the experience further.

Thank you for your time and for the work you do.”

The Confessionals writes “Strange activity is intensifying across East Tennessee, and longtime locals are starting to connect the dots.

In this conversation, Tony sits down with Stephen Watson of Arcane Discoveries to explore why the Cherokee National Forest and surrounding mountains may function as a seasonal corridor for cryptids and paranormal phenomena.

Stephen shares firsthand accounts of Bigfoot encounters, closed campgrounds plagued by rock-throwing and vocalizations, mysterious orbs, and unexplained handprints left on homes. He also recounts sightings tied to Dogman territory, a massive blonde Bigfoot moving at impossible speed, a black panther encounter, and a rare face-to-face meeting with what he believes was a red wolf. As the conversation unfolds, physical encounters give way to deeper questions about portals, vibration, and supernatural intelligence, suggesting these phenomena may be far more connected than anyone wants to admit.”

A listener writes “I would like to tell you about some strange encounters I’ve had in evergreen Colorado, one being a road side sighting yesterday, December 21st 2025. To start things off I live in Arvada Colorado, about 30 minutes from the mountains. I clean two air BnBs in evergreen Colorado.

They are isolated with only a few houses on the mountain. Both are over 100 years old and they both carry a strange presence which I can elaborate on later if you’d like. My encounter with “something” happened last night at approximately 1145pm. I enjoy taking photos of the stars and when I have a bad day I take a trip up there to enjoy the silence and the beauty. I’ve traveled this same road hundreds of times at all hours of the day and I have never felt or seen anything strange until last night.

After arriving at the air BNB I felt something in the air. Things felt off. I had an overwhelming feeling like I shouldn’t be there so I drove further up the mountain and found a spot to pull over and take some photos. I park my Tacoma, I spent about 10 minutes taking in the beauty and taking my photos. There are a few houses on the mountain and they all have dogs. These dogs started to howl and bark for about 5 minutes and stopped. When they stopped I began to notice that everything around me went silent too. Even the wind. Dead silent.

The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, I felt it in my spine and in my face, my jaw tightened up and my fight or flight kicked in and I knew I had to leave. I felt like something was breathing down the back of my neck, even in the truck I felt like there was something in the bed that shouldn’t be there. I made a swift exit to say the least, trying my best to get out of there while trying not to fishtail my truck. Cut to the chase, I turn a corner and as my lights hit the trees in front of me I see something I can only describe as a giant, pitch black Gumby looking “thing”. It was tall, blocky, it looked like the Great Khali from WWE.

This thing stepped out into the road, when my lights hit it it stepped back and disappeared. This all maybe only took 5 seconds, I know my eyes weren’t deceiving me. This thing absorbed the darkness around it, it had to have been 10 foot tall at least.”

This is from Chestnut Ridge Paranormal in Pennsylvania. Chad sent this to me and writes “I got an orb on a trail camera I had in the forest near where I found the three toed tracks, at first I thought it was a star or planet. As I watched, it started to move and morph, smaller orbs come out of it and go back in. It’s an interesting video!”

From The Shadows writes “Orbs, UFOs, an evil black mass, and other entities are scaring Steven, a hospice chaplain, in his home. He joins Shane to share his encounters with the paranormal, including almost suffocating due to the evil black mass.”

As a U.S. Army field artillery radar technician, his job was to read signals others couldn’t see blips on screens, returns in noise, patterns hidden inside chaos. Radar didn’t lie. Data didn’t lie. If something appeared on his scope, it was there.

That belief would be shaken on a summer night in June of 2015.

Weeks was on a long drive with his wife and children, traveling from Georgia toward Colorado Springs, where he was stationed. It was supposed to be routine highway miles, tired kids, GPS guiding them west. But somewhere along the drive, the GPS began behaving strangely, rerouting them without explanation onto isolated back roads.

Then the fog came.

It wasn’t normal fog. It rolled in suddenly, thick and suffocating, swallowing the road ahead. Visibility dropped to almost nothing. Weeks noticed the car’s electronics flicker radio static, dashboard lights dimming and brightening as if something nearby was interfering with the signal.

That’s when his wife told him to look up.

Above the vehicle, hovering silently, was an enormous disc-shaped craft so large it blotted out the stars. It wasn’t glowing like a typical UFO report. Instead, it was dark, solid, impossibly massive. On its underside were symbols, etched or embossed into the surface patterns that felt deliberate, structured, almost technical.

Weeks remembers a profound, crushing stillness. No engine noise. No wind. Just the sense that time itself had slowed.

Then nothing.

Wildman of the Woods writes “Is Bigfoot real in Florida? Does the Skunk Ape of the Everglades truly exist? Are Sasquatch sightings in the southeastern United States evidence of an undiscovered primate species, or could some encounters be explained by feral apes living deep in Florida’s swamps and wetlands?

In this free bigfoot documentary investigation, Wildman of the Woods travels into some of the most remote and difficult-to-access regions of Florida alongside Tami Grimes of the North American Wood Ape Conservancy (NAWAC) and Chester Moore of Dark Outdoors to examine one of the most persistent and controversial Bigfoot mysteries in North America. Florida has a long history of Skunk Ape reports, Sasquatch encounters, and Bigfoot sightings that date back decades, particularly in and around the Everglades, Cypress Swamps, Green Swamp, and Ocala National Forest.

This film features firsthand eyewitness testimony describing close-range Bigfoot encounters, thermal camera observations of large bipedal figures, footprint discoveries, and track casts recovered near reported sightings. Witnesses describe animals with immense speed, intelligence, and physical presence, capable of moving through flooded swamps, dense palmetto, and standing water without leaving clear evidence behind. These consistent descriptions raise serious questions about how a large primate could remain largely undocumented in such a harsh and challenging environment.

A central focus of this investigation is the Florida Skunk Ape phenomenon and how it differs from classic Sasquatch sightings reported in mountainous regions of the Pacific Northwest, Appalachia, and Rocky Mountains. Florida’s hot, humid climate, heavy insect pressure, dense vegetation, and abundance of water sources create a unique ecosystem that could support a highly adaptable primate species. The documentary explores how Bigfoot or Skunk Ape behavior may shift based on environment, including nocturnal activity patterns, water-based travel routes, and extreme avoidance of human detection.”

Marilyn writes “I was very young, likely seven or eight years old, which would place it in the summer of 1982 or 1983.

I grew up in Roseville, Ohio, which was and still is a deeply rural area with a very small population. It sits near Wayne National Forest, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in Perry County. Wilderness surrounds it in every direction.

One of my fondest memories of growing up there is the endless single lane backcountry roads that snake through rolling hills, creeks, and riverbeds. Those roads seemed to go on forever. I’ve often joked that Huckleberry Finn should’ve been from Roseville instead of somewhere along the Mississippi. Nothing was easy to get to. A trip anywhere meant miles of rough driving without seeing another house, let alone a gas station or store. To put it in perspective, the school bus ride from our home to Philo High School only about twenty miles away took over an hour, simply because the roads were so narrow and treacherous that speeds rarely exceeded twenty miles per hour.

On the day of my experience, my parents and I had gone to visit their best friends in Malta, Ohio, in neighboring Morgan County. It was just as rural, with nothing but dense wilderness separating the two areas. We made that drive often, usually taking around forty-five minutes, depending on who was driving. My dad barreled down those back roads, while my mom was far more cautious especially at night.

For reasons I can’t fully remember, my parents drove separately that day. I believe my dad came straight from work, while my mom and I left from home and met him there. That detail matters, because my mom drove a convertible MG, and I remember that ride like it was yesterday. The weather was perfect, and even as a child, the beauty of that drive with the top down was breathtaking.

Later that night, I chose to ride home with my mom. The MG was a two-seater, but behind the seats was a small, carpeted area probably meant to cover the speakers. It definitely wasn’t designed for passengers, but I was tiny and fit perfectly, curled up behind her. This was well before seatbelts and car seats were the law. I lay on my back, knees bent, staring straight up at the sky.

I loved those rides home on warm nights watching millions of stars drift by overhead.

The MG was a stick shift, and most of the route consisted of tight curves and hills. But there was one stretch that ran straight along a riverbank where you could maintain a steady speed. I’d ridden this route countless times and knew every hill, every curve, and every moment when the engine would downshift.

That’s when everything changed.

As I lay there, mesmerized by the moonlit sky, I felt the car suddenly downshift in a place where it never did. We slowed almost to a stop. It was so unexpected that I sat up and peeked over my mom’s right shoulder, asking what was wrong.

At the same moment, I looked through the windshield and saw it.

Standing on the right side of the road at the edge of the riverbank was a massive truly massive, black creature, perfectly illuminated by the headlights and the full moon. I immediately said, “Mommy, what is that?”

I could hear the fear in her voice, though she tried desperately to stay calm for my sake. She said, “Honey, I don’t know. I need you to climb into the front seat, curl up on the floorboard, and get as small as you can.”

As she slowly approached the creature, I crawled forward. I knelt on the passenger floorboard, facing the seat, but despite her instructions, I couldn’t stop myself from turning my head to look.

The road was narrow, with a steep ditch on the left, so my mom did her best to hug the center line. As we drew closer, I remember thinking with absolute certainty that this thing was going to reach into the car and pull me out. We felt impossibly small, like we were driving a Matchbox car past something ancient and enormous.

As we passed it, I made what felt like direct eye contact.

Its size was overwhelming, but there was something unexpectedly soft and warm in its eyes. In an instant, the terror vanished. I felt completely at peace. I knew without understanding how, that I wasn’t in danger. Whatever this being was, it knew I was scared and conveyed reassurance in the gentlest way possible.

Even now, recalling that moment nearly brings me to tears.

After we passed it, I watched as it crossed the road in just two effortless steps. Its arms were unusually long, swinging naturally as it moved. It turned its head and continued watching us as we drove away almost like a farewell before disappearing into the darkness.

I climbed into the passenger seat like I was supposed to, and my mom and I finished the remaining twenty-five to thirty minutes of the drive in complete silence. We were both stunned, unable to speak about what we’d just seen.

When we got home, my dad was already there. It was close to midnight, and I was sent straight to bed, but I remember hearing my mom trying to explain what had happened. After that night, we never spoke of it again. I also don’t recall ever making that drive in the convertible or without my dad ever again.

For decades, I tried to understand what I had witnessed. I didn’t talk about it or research it. I carried it quietly.

It wasn’t until my thirties that I happened to see a documentary on television showing the Patterson-Gimlin film from 1967. The moment I saw it, I knew. There was no doubt in my mind that the creature in that footage was the same type of being I had seen from the floorboard of my mom’s MG all those years earlier.

The size, the black hair, the arm swing, the posture it all matched. But what struck me most was the head tilt and the expression. There’s something profoundly humanoid and deliberate about that movement. You can sense awareness, intelligence, even a moment of realization I’ve been seen.

There was one clear difference, though. The creature I saw was male. I know how strange that sounds, but its muscle structure and facial features were unmistakable. It was massive, incredibly fit, and lacked any feminine characteristics aside from those gentle, expressive eyes.

I can’t say definitively what I saw that night, because science hasn’t yet given it a name. But I can say with certainty what it was not. It wasn’t a man. It wasn’t a bear. It walked upright on two legs, had black hair not fur dark exposed skin on its face, and eyes capable of connection.

That moment will stay with me for the rest of my life.”

Richard writes “My brother Ron and mIe back in the summer of 1976 when we lived in a single wide trailer right next to a wooded hillside in Ceredo, West Virginia. This was not far from where the Marshall Football Flight crashed near the Tri-state Airport.

We were playing in the woods one day—the two of us and about six other neighborhood boys—and we found this fun, dumb way to get down the hill fast (and this is not behaviour I’m proud of btw) we’d grab onto skinny trees and kind of “ride” them down like Tarzan, letting go near the bottom so they’d snap back up. We did this maybe 8 or 9 times.

That night, things got creepy. We woke up to this incredibly loud bird call—like a huge, booming owl—. It wasn’t quite right though; it sounded like something was trying to shout “HOOOOT!” but couldn’t quite nail the owl screech. The worst part? It happened every single night for a whole week, always starting far away and getting closer until it felt like it was right outside the window, literally vibrating in our chests.

Then, on the weekend when we finally went back up the hill where we played, we saw the freakiest thing: not just the trees we had ridden,  but like fifty or sixty other saplings all over the hillside had been snapped or bent over. They had ridden down by something way heavier than us. We realised someone or something had been watching us play and then spent a week copying our dumb tree-riding game.

In the second week, the nightly calls were still happening, and one night, my brother and I heard rocks and brush sliding down the hill right behind his room. We heard the scream sounding like it was right outside the window. The neighbours dog started barking wildly and incessantly.  I saw a shadow pass across the  window and completely block it out. And immediately after that, our neighbour’s dog abruptly shut up. We never saw that dog again.

It was an intense, terrifying two weeks, and we definitely learned that some things in the woods do not like being disturbed.

I hope you found this account interesting  and will gladly go into greater detail if you want.”