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SWOHFAL July 29, 2009 23:30

I read the story in the 2006 ghost and creature thread and just wanted to find out what tales of strange white hairy bipeds there were in S. Oregon and found this:

Another amazing article about the Conser Lake:

High Strangeness Bigfoot: The Ghost in Conser Lake, February 8th, 2009

It’s no surprise Oregon has its share of Bigfoot encounters; including paranormal Bigfoot events. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, the town of MIllersburg, Oregon, (about forty five miles north of Eugene) experienced some very strange events involving a white Bigfoot or “BHM” (Big Hairy Monster) with a lot of high strangeness surrounding the encounters.

The creature was called the “Creature of Conser Lake,” also the “Ghost of Conser Lake” (because of its white color) and the “Monster of Conser Lake,” the lake’s name was Conser at the time, but isn’t called Conser Lake anymore, the name has been changed and is on private property. I’m not revealing the name of the lake out of respect to the owners.

Reported as a bigfoot type creature; about seven feet tall, bipedal, white shaggy fur, the creature mystified Millersburg residents for over a year. The story begins with a story of a UFO or strange light crashing into Conser Lake in either 1959 or 1960. Soon after the strange light crashed into Conser Lake, a Millersburg truck driver was understandably startled to find a white, shaggy furred bigfoot type creature trotting along beside his truck as he was driving down the road. The driver, a mint farmer, was going about 35 miles an hour; the creature was easily keeping pace with the moving vehicle.

The creature was described as being about seven feet tall. The mint farmer described the creature as a “shaggy gorilla.” Local Bruce Hamilton remembers the creature in Conser Lake, and a story about a “young couple driving by the lake; a seven or eight foot creature ran alongside their car.”

As if the truck farmer’s experience wasn’t odd enough, another report of a tall, white furred shaggy Bigfoot type creature running alongside side a truck made its way into the news. This time the creature was seen in Telephone, Oregon, in Eastern Oregon. (I realize the town doesn’t seem to show up on maps or Google searches, as I have found, and a recent e-mail alerted me to. However, this is the name cited by several sources. Many small “towns” are not listed, also, it’s possible the name has changed, the area incorporated, or simply disappeared over time.) Witness C.A. Cissman saw a bright light approach, hover about 30 minutes, then disappear, shooting upwards and disappearing within seconds. Later, in Prospect, Oregon a logger was shocked to see a white furred, Bigfoot or Bigfoot type being, leisurely jogging alongside his truck on a deserted rural road.

Stories of Bigfoot running alongside cars aren’t new, either. A report from 1926 tells of a Bigfoot creature encounter in Yankton, Oregon: “Bigfoot following alongside a truck looking in. Sheep and children would disappear.” (UFO Casebook) It seems there was a history of bright zipping lights and white Bigfoot — or white somethings — following cars and trucks in Oregon.

Other reports of white Bigfoot creatures can be found; for example, Chris O’Brien writes in his Secrets of the Mysterious Valley about a “New Mexico cattle inspector” who told O’Brien:

he watched with binoculars a white bigfoot clamor up a rocky slope . . a witness in Washington “reported seeing a Bigfoot with large pointed ears” (p 231 Secrets of the Mysterious Valley, Christopher O’Brien)

The reference to “pointed ears” is interesting; Flix, our creature in Conser Lake, was also described as having pointed or “cat like” ears. A “ten foot white Bigfoot” was seen on the banks of the Ohio river in the 1960s. In fact, sightings of a white Bigfoot in the area were reported from the 1900s to the 1990s .(The I-Files: True Reports of Unexplained Phenomena in Illinois, Jay Rath)

Peter Guittilla’s The Bigfoot Files contains stories of white BHM or Bigfoot like creatures that transcend the flesh and blood variety. Guittilla references an account from Fate magazine out of Peter Bottom, Arkansas. In 1966 reports of a “monster” living in the Bottom emerged. The creature was described as being nine feet tall with snow white fur. Aside from giving off a strong smell, the creature “made a sound like a radio signal . . . the signal sounded like ‘beep, beep, beep.” (The Bigfoot Files, p 86)

The synchronicity of the white bigfoots is intriguing, along with the mysterious lights in the sky. As far as the Conser Lake “monster” goes, witnesses reported feelings of disorientation, dizziness, severe headaches, and hearing loud thuds and running footsteps right by them but no source for the sounds. Some insisted they were in telepathic communication with the being, who said his name was “Flix” and was from outer space.

Flix was Bigfoot like in many ways, yet there were other characteristics described by witnesses that are strange. Flix was said to have claws and or webbed feet and hands and cat like ears.

There are some similarities with Bigfoot; the height, bipedalism, shaggy fur. As noted, there were other similar beings in Oregon scattered throughout the state. But enough high strangeness episodes take the idea of a strictly flesh and blood creature out its comfortable unknown animal category, and into the truly Fortean or esoteric. All the above noted incidences: UFOs or bright lights, telepathy, sounds with no visible source, feelings of disorientation, and the synchronicty of similar creatures adds up to something beyond a flesh and blood Bigfoot.

Janet Bord; Colin Bord: Bigfoot Casebook
Peter Guittilla: Bigfoot Files
Regan Lee: The Ghost in Conser Lake
Christopher O’Brien: Secrets of the Mysterious Valley
Jay Rath: The I-Files: True Reports of Unexplained Phenomena in Illinois
photos by Regan Lee

I've never been prone to seeing ghosts or bigfoot, but I do often wonder why some people have similar stories about certain areas, unless they're just elaborating on what they've heard before. I still think humans are the most dangerous bipeds I'll encounter.

splattermatic July 29, 2009 23:36

sq would have a real bad day if one would come around me !
i wouldn't stop and stare, i would be rich ...
selling pics, the story, and of course, the corpse, to national enquirer, the star, etc..
i might even get on the today show ! magine that ...

now, when i go to google earth, there is a pin just above where we camp for elk season... clicked on it, and it's a story about sq, messing with some cops out camping...

that sq would have a serious bad day/night he come around the thug camp...

and i got some more news, if it turned out to be some dumb ass in a suit.. well, he got what he asked for..

i don't play those games, seen to many horror flicks to not be armed all the time...
hear a bump in the basement.. open door and lights don't work... you got it, white boy ain't goin down there... and if the house said "get out", yep human outline THREW the door.. i ain't even slowin down to open it..

and don't even go there with going under ground... nope, it ain't ever gonna happen with this boy. saw the movie, "the cave" and one just this sunday called "the desent" on syfy... nope, i ain't gonna be squirmin down no tight shaft, to see where it goes... i get breathing hard just watchin it on tv...
too big to be a tunnel rat too..

the world is still a big place, just like fals, never say never...
there's new species found just about every day...

yep, lemme see a sq.... i'll be singin, "i'm rich" for sure..

and i ain't nar seen a ufo either, even tho there's supposed to a base over in dulce, nm. i got a .50 bmg, i think i can hit one hovering with an api !

Odd Gibbs Shooter July 29, 2009 23:44

Mike I just sent you a PM......

SWOHFAL July 29, 2009 23:55


Originally posted by fry
those are great stories for sure.

the word is out that yeti lives in the crater lake nation park area. they are not as described in the stories. the crater lake yeti are a very tame and friendly type, usually willing to share a meal of nuts and berries if approached.

i especially like that in the first story two out of two potential victims are armed with .45's and at least one has a shotgun. the moles between union and prospect are more like 12. the last time i checked those passes are always closed in the winter and are not plowed until spring.

in the second story i like that pop also had a .45 (as you always do when encountering big foot) and then later a very rare colt python in 44 magnum.

It could be the storyteller in the second story doesn't know a Python from a similar looking Anaconda, especially since he alleges to be the victim of the incident's son.

I will note that Mitchell Mem. Forest is in Hamilton Co. OH, which means close to a million people live in not a whole lot of land area and greatly increases the odds someone would stumble across something every so often.

W.E.G. July 30, 2009 00:07

Does bigfoot shit on a glacier?

EricCartmanR1 July 30, 2009 04:20

If they are all 7ft tall and so smart how come they have not put together a basketball team yet?

jacmec July 30, 2009 05:37

Radio July 30, 2009 05:48


Originally posted by AndyC

Good - you can go first, we'll be right behind you :biggrin:

Got NO problem taking point. You go ahead and cower in the background. :tongue:

Mike, my family comes from Southwest Oregon. Grandpa logged between K-Falls and Hilt and that entire area; Dad grew up in Ashland and Coquille among other places. I've been around a lot of that area although I haven't lived there.

You'd think a logger, living in the wilderness, in the very area you are talking about, hauling out logs with mules, WALKING everywhere, would have a story or six to tell his grandkids, if nothing else but to thrill them. Grandpa did NOT.


vmtz July 30, 2009 08:03

He likely didn't want to scare you.

Fr. Vince

AndyC July 30, 2009 08:59


Originally posted by Radio
Got NO problem taking point. You go ahead and cower in the background. :tongue:
Tsk - such slander towards the guy who'll be watching your back (albeit from a long way back).

Monsters eat the scoffers first, y'know :D

goofytoof July 30, 2009 09:09

I'll go, so long as there are others that a fatter and slower moving than me.

MordeanGrey July 30, 2009 09:31

I'm bringing my running shoes and a bottle of BBQ sauce to squirt on one of you slow, fat guys if the hunt goes poorly!


Fn/form July 30, 2009 10:13

I'm renting a FLIR to use from the Abrams... or one of those Lenco tac vehicles... or at least one of those Israeli armored 'dozers....

xcpd69 July 30, 2009 10:27

I'll stay at home and watch it on the TV.

ad·ven·ture (d-vnchr)
1. Someone else, somewhere else, having a tough time.
a. An undertaking or enterprise of a hazardous nature.
b. An undertaking of a questionable nature, especially one involving intervention in another state's affairs.
2. An unusual or exciting experience: an adventure in dining.
3. Participation in hazardous or exciting experiences: the love of adventure.
4. A financial speculation or business venture.
v. ad·ven·tured, ad·ven·tur·ing, ad·ven·tures
1. To venture upon; undertake or try.
2. To expose to danger or risk; hazard.
1. To take a risk; dare.
2. To proceed despite risks.

worldskipper July 30, 2009 10:28


Originally posted by EricCartmanR1
If they are all 7ft tall and so smart how come they have not put together a basketball team yet?
Thanks for making my day!:bow: :biggrin: :rofl:

BUFF July 30, 2009 10:32

Originally posted by 7.62FMJ:

"So what I am about to say, I never admitted to anyone until I read the two stories I posted above which made me realize what I experienced was real. In fact I had nearly forgot about the incident until I read the two stories."

Nobody would 'almost forget' something like that!

I think perhaps somebody drinks too much!

Pretty good writing, though! Makes a good story to tell the Boy Scouts around a campfire in the woods some night!

Should I bring softpoint, hollowpoint, AP or FMJ for the hunt? I'll bring the marshmallows, too!

V guy July 30, 2009 10:57

I was cuttin up an old ash tree last fall when it was apparent that this yeti bigfoot guy was struck by lightning and killed outright. Stunk pretty bad for sure. Had no wal mart clothing on him, so he was the real thing.
We run most of him through the wood chipper to avoid having to slow down production.
Funnny thing, the next few nights we hear a wailing howl, not unlike a coyote in the woods. One or two for sure. Then the cows started disappearing, the calfs that dropped for sure way out in the far pasture. Never found them. No deer left in our area. Bears avoid it. When I am out digging up the local 1700's settlement areas at 2 am for historical artifacts and skulls, I am overcome with the feeling that I am being watched. Is there some scent or technique that I can use to drive them away? We leave cooking grease and veggies out in the far reach with a deer camera but they do not set off the camera. I am puzzled about their taste for blood and not for green things. I suspect that they are dangerous but I know of no one who they have killed and survived the experience. In fact I know of no one who has survived the experience and been killed. I have yet to find someone who has been killed and not survived the experience too. I seem that they are multiplying due to the number of strange incidents that are ocurring on websites like this. If we set up a still and run it at night I suspect we may get revnooers but none of these guys. I am at a loss on what to do about this infestation we have. Ever since the USAF closed down the sac base the incidents have increased. Some say it is the nuclear waste from the bomb shelters being spread on our local dirt roads along with dioxin. No one wants to give us money like in Times Beach, Missouri, so we will have to get alone like we have been since the 1700's here.

Cava3r4 July 30, 2009 11:39

one rule I learned in Nam:
If you don't know what it is, and / or you don't know who put it there, leave it the f*** alone !!

that has served me well in civilian life as well !

maxhush July 30, 2009 11:44


Originally posted by EricCartmanR1
If they are all 7ft tall and so smart how come they have not put together a basketball team yet?
Sheesh, everyone knows sasquatch can't jump.

Czechsix July 30, 2009 11:56


Originally posted by maxhush

Sheesh, everyone knows sasquatch can't jump.

You mean the white sasquatch's, don't you?

ThunderGod July 30, 2009 13:01


Originally posted by Radio
More total bullshit. :rolleyes: Ghost stories and "creature" tales don't impress me at ALL.


Except around a campfire with lots of little kids around. Then, the entertainment value is stellar.

Man, first it was "Happy Spots", now you're going-off on "Horror Spots". :eek:

jacmec July 30, 2009 14:54


Originally posted by Radio
[B]Got NO problem taking point. You go ahead and cower in the background. :tongue:
Are you sure?

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Cmdr. Gravez0r July 30, 2009 15:37

I for one am up for a Files trip to Manihan's place of terror.

Can you give us some coordinates, Mike?

MordeanGrey July 30, 2009 15:55


Originally posted by Cmdr. Gravez0r

Can you give us some coordinates, Mike?

Mike, is this the general area? (Union Creek on Google maps.)

and a closer look...

MordeanGrey July 30, 2009 16:12

Similar creature(?) described here:

Cabin Terror
by Casey Allgood

This happened to me when I was 17 (now 24) in Southern Missouri near the small town of Forsyth. My cousin and I were staying the weekend at a cabin that our family owns in the Mark Twain National Forest. It was about 10:30 at night and we were just sitting in the back room playing Playstation and talking. Suddenly, my cousin sat up with a frightened look on his face and turned around and looked out the window behind us. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Something was looking at us from outside the window."

Normally, I would have laughed it off because of his past history of playing pranks and goofing around, but his face was as pale as a corpse. Alarmed, I asked him what it looked like. He said he only saw it for a second and didn't get a good look, but it wasn't human looking at all. He said that when the TV screen went black to load the next stage of the video game, he could see the reflection of the window on the screen. A few moments later my dog, a large rottweiler began barking and growling in the front room. We ran out there and he was frozen solid staring at the door, growling.

I was scared by this time. We stood and stared at the door for a few minutes and nothing happened. I went to the bedroom and grabbed my .22 rifle I had brought along. I walked over and slowly opened the front door and told my dog to "GET 'EM!" Normally this dog would have rushed outside and raised hell with whatever was out there, but he just stood there whimpering and cowering by me. He would not get within five feet of that door. After about five minutes of trying to get my dog to go out, we heard something on the roof. It sounded like something ran from the back of the house to the front. I was scared to death, but curious. We worked up enough courage to walk out onto the front deck. The front deck has a large overhang and sets about five feet off of the ground.We stood on the deck for a few moments. We saw something from the corner of our eyes drop from the roof to the ground and heard it go under the porch.

I said something along the lines of, "Is someone there? I have a gun! You better leave us alone!" Then I heard the most frightening sound I have ever heard in my life. Whatever was under the porch let out a high-pitched scream that lasted only a few seconds. We quickly ran back inside. We continued to hear whatever the thing was outside scurry around outside the cabin. None of the windows in the cabin had blinds or curtains, which made me feel twice as uneasy.

We stayed in the cabin the rest of the night with the lights on, sitting in a corner away from the windows with the gun fully loaded and ready to fire on this thing if it decided it wanted to come inside. We heard a lot of scratching sounds coming from the back door and sounded like the door knob was trying to turn. We heard more scratching coming from the back room where we were at earlier. Finally, the noises stopped and we heard nothing for about four hours. We continued to wait until the sun came up.

It had been daylight for about two hours. We went outside and looked around the cabin. On the back door, there were deep scratch marks and also on the window of the back room their were deep scratch marks on the window pane. We could not find any foot prints because it was fall and there were leaves all over the ground. We packed up our stuff and left in a hurry. Later, I asked my cousin to describe what he had seen in the window. He said he didn't get a good look, but it was a tanish brown color with beady black eyes no hair and sharp teeth. He said that it was grinning at him when he saw it. He said about as soon as he turned around and looked, it quickly ducked down.

This is something that is burned into my mind for the rest of my life. Just typing this has giving me that same feeling of terror I had seven years ago. I have never shared this story with anyone, not even my family. My cousin and I haven't spoken of it since that day. I figured I would share it here because everyone here has had a similar experience and would not call me insane.

MordeanGrey July 30, 2009 16:15

Another story with a white-haired creature...

Creature at Secluded Cabin
by Neal Everett

My family owns a small, secluded cabin in southwest Virginia. This past summer we decided to spend around three weeks there. The cabin has electricity and running water, but no TVs or computers. The third day of our visit, the nearest neighbor (a cattle farmer who lives about two miles down the road) came up to our cabin and informed us that during the past two weeks that some of his cattle have been slaughtered and basically mutilated. There are foxes and wolves in those hills, and occasionally a small black bear, but nothing that could do this much damage and over such a spread out time. He asked us if we had seen anything and told us to keep our eyes open if we saw a rabid fox, wolf, bear or any other animal that could possibly have done it. We told him we would and he thanked us and left.

The next five or six days passed uneventfully, but around a week after the farmer came to our house, we experienced something. That day we BBQed hot dogs and hamburgers and had a small party with some close friends, but none of them stayed the night. Around 11:30, my wife and I decided to go to bed. We slept peacefully until about 3:45 when there was a loud crash outside, and our dog started barking furiously. I didn't have a rifle or any other type of weapon, so I decided to cautiously proceed downstairs and turn on the floodlights around the cabin. The switch to the lights was outside on the deck of the cabin, so I proceeded out there and turned them on.

What I saw next still baffles me. At my truck there was a creature standing upright, about 7 feet tall with huge claws on its "hands." It had white hair that was almost gray, but I couldn't really see its eyes. It seemed to be searching around the bed of my truck and was paying no attention to the now-frantic dog. When the lights first came on, it did nothing but continue its search, but it then looked up at the deck.

By now I was frozen in horror and it turned around and made eye contact with me. It then made a horrible screeching sound, almost as if it was in terror from the sight of me. At first it seemed as if it was going to charge at me and climb the steps onto the deck. But then in a terrorized rage it made another screech and "sprinted" away. It ran upright and its claws almost went past its knees.

The next day, we left the cabin and reported what we saw to the local deputy. He dismissed it as nothing more than a bear and said we should not concern ourselves with backwoods business.

Randall July 30, 2009 16:23


Originally posted by goofytoof
I'll go, so long as there are others that a fatter and slower moving than me.
Don't forget to bring the token black guy. I'm not trying to be a racist here. I'm just sayin' when the black guy gets eaten, it's time to go.

Czechsix July 30, 2009 16:33

Well, as long as you guys stick to your damned firing sectors, I'm up for it.:biggrin:

The real question is: belt feds: yes or no?

And I'll be the first to say I ain't walking no point. I've got dibs on the middle.

mike minihan July 30, 2009 17:08

Cmdr and Mordean I will check out Google Earth and post the map
coordinates. Add yes,it is very close to Union Creek. A Northwest safari
may well be in order this winter. Hunting season will be over,we'll all
be bored,and a terror and rage induced adrenaline rush will be welcome.

best regards,

Mike Minihan

Beepy August 01, 2009 00:14

Found a similar story..

From the Woods

The summer of '78 will always be a turn about in my beliefs of 'real monsters' versus the demonic or paranormal type. Ghosts and spirits had become a common event during my life growing up, until that particular summer when a new avenue of fear introduced itself and made a permanent pathway inside my mind. A path made of concrete that wanders thru the forests of my memories. A trail that will not be covered with weeds, or fade with time. A place where my daily thinking bypasses to avoid the beckoning desire of fear that calls from down that menacing road of remembrance. For this moment though, for the benefit of you, the reader, I will travel down that route once more and try to recapture the scene so that you too will lay awake wondering and asking the Universe, "Is there something else out there somewhere that is above us humans on the food chain?"

It was on one of those hot July summer evenings in Grand Rivers, Kentucky, back in 1978, when this took place. (Grand Rivers is at the beginning of Land Between the Lakes entrance.) The sun was not completely down and the skies were streaked with violet-pinkish Posy colored clouds that outlined the curtain of darkness that was pushing the turquoise blue away. I was staying at my Aunts house with my cousins for a few weeks during summer vacation, a very welcome home at the end of a dead end road. Hundreds of acres of woods surrounded the home that that had been built down a hill and into the side of a large hill of dirt. There were several homemade trails through out the woods that led to several places; an old abandoned rail road track that went on for miles, another abandoned place- the old sawmill, and other paths led to parts of the shore line of the Kentucky lake. They all started out as walking trails, but with the new addition of a dirt bike that my cousin Joe had the trails became well outlined and defined. As with almost every day that I was visiting, Joe was out riding his bike through the woods, exploring, and just being with his own thoughts of a 13 year old. His younger sister, Ronda, was with me outside on the porch swing. She was 10, and I was 17 at the time. My uncle was working and my aunt was at the local IGA store down in town. Beside the driveway was a huge dog pen where their pet basset hounds lodged and was at the moment quite relaxed in the shade. The woods had been filled with only the sounds of birds and the chatter of squirrels for a few hours. Joe must have been way far off on a trail somewhere to not have heard that distinct sound of the dirt bike screaming through it's gears echoing around the trees. I knew he must be on his way home, because his dad forbid him to be out in the woods at dark, so Ronda and I was waiting to hear that familiar putt putting of the bike slowly coming down the drive as he reluctantly came home to park it for another night.

As we swung back and forth, singing silly songs, we heard something a bit strange in the distance, it was Joe's dirt bike screaming at almost a soprano type of gear, long, steady, and fast, with no shifting sounds, just a straight stream of one gear in motion with a full throttle, going at top speed. The sound accelerated as he drew closer at such a fast pace, and we watched from the swing up to the top of the driveway where he would appear from the other side out of the woods. I couldn't help but think that he had better slow down or he would come flying up over the top of the hill and downwards missing a wide stretch of pavement by being airborne. The noise didn't softened or slow. Steady and fixed was his speed. And just as I had thought, he emerged from the woods in such a tenacious movement, that he did indeed go airborne a few feet before pounding down the front tire on the driveway, continuing his descent now with a struggle of keeping the bike upright and straight. Ronda and I jumped from the porch swing and got out of the way as we didn't know where he was going to stop or in what position. The brakes hit hard and the bike slid sideways and as it came down to the edge and end of the drive, Joe tilted his body and let the bike slide out from under him before he went down the rest of the hill with it. Instead of the bike continuing to slide to the edge it was caught in a spin that variably died down as the engine sputtered, and then quit altogether. Everyone was wide eyed and full of adrenaline, all our mouths open in shock. But Joe's mouth was open in a strange fearful grimace, he was sweating profusely and his breaths were coming and going in great heaves. Tears were coming down his cheeks, mixing with the dusty dirt that the trail had left him powdered with. His eyes were at the top of the hill, at the top of the drive, unblinking, searching, waiting. We followed his gaze not understanding what this escapade was all about. In silence we watched with him for a about 30 seconds and then the dogs started barking. Growling. And then whining, trying to get out of the pen in a frantic panic of digging and gnawing at the fencing.

"IT GRABBED ME!! LOOK AT MY LEG!!", Joe screamed, making us jump with alarm at the sound of his voice. We looked down at his Levi's and saw scratch marks going across his right thigh, scratches that tore through the tough denim and left small bloody marks on his skin. The marks were like a bears-claw-rake, not those caused by branches or sticky bushes, but a definite wide pattern of a paw print.

"IT WALKED ON TWO LEGS!", his voice startled us again, as he was trying to tell his story in between huge gulps of air. He was frightened beyond belief, and the bits and pieces of what he was striving with extreme effort to tell us was coming out in loud syllables that filled us both with the same dread. "It was following me through the woods....along the path....from the old was so hairy...and it's snout was so long...and it walked on two ran on two legs...", his voice was sputtering, slowing, his eyes were still wide, and I could see the pulse of his heartbeat throbbing under the skin of his temples.

A howling began. From the woods, not from the dog pen where now the dogs suddenly stopped their own complaining, standing deathly still, staring up at the top of the hill, the nape of the hair on their back standing up, ruffled, their noses up in the air breathing in a strange scent. A wolfs howl. It was close. It seemed it was just a few yards from the road up above. Just as the idiot in a horror movie stands and stares at something to appear, that was what I was doing then, with a mixture of anticipation and confusion. What the hell was he talking about? I thought to myself, mulling over the brief descriptions; torn blue jeans, walks and runs on two legs, stalking him, hairy with a long nose and calling the mysterious hunter an "IT".

Joe's tears came quicker and he started to push us towards the front door of the house demanding that we go inside and lock the doors. He had a hand on each of our backs and was urging us onward when IT came out of the woods above. At first it appeared to be a very large wolf emerging from the dark outline of the trees, but as it approached the one lane road that connected to the driveway, it's height grew to a towering shadow that stood on two legs. Much taller then a man's height, maybe by a foot, and with the sun gone down behind the clouds, it only cast a silhouette of blackness, hairy blackness. My mouth dropped wide as well as my eyes. This was not happening, this was not what I was seeing. My mind was going back and forth from rationality to reality. 'I was from St. Louis, the most frightening thing back home in Missouri was MO MO the Monster, the Show Me States version of Big Foot. This was no Big Foot!'

It raised it's long snout up in the air and let out a gurgling, slow, deliberate howl, while stretching it's long arms to it's sides and upwards, like it was praising the coming of the night, praying to the unseen moon and stars. At that moment the security light that was at the top of the hill by the beginning of their driveway popped on. Slowly at first it began to glow and gathered it's energy to shine more brightly over the next few seconds. One of the creatures arms bent and shaded it's eyes from the glare. It wasn't an 'It' any longer, nor was it a big foot, this was a wolf like creature that, like Joe said, stood on two legs, was taller then a man, and was staring at the three of us down the hill. Those huge, black eyes, I will never get out of my mind. They were like two sockets of ebony oil shining under magnifying glass lenses.

We ran into the house, tearing the screen door in the process, slamming the main door, locking it, pushing things, anything we could reach against the inside of the door. The kitchen was right behind us and so was the knife drawer which we raided and took several with us as we tried to decide where to hide. There was a house dog inside, another basset hound, Stubby, and he met us in the kitchen wondering what the racket was. Another howl from outside, coming from the driveway. Stubby's hair raised and he started backing up at first, then he went to the front door and was smelling around the edges. The three of us ran to my aunts room and was about to slam the door and lock it when the dog tucked tail and ran after us, beating us under the bed. All of us squeezed under the four poster, knives clutched in our hands, scared half to death. We could hear the dogs in the pen outside going absolutely crazy with barking, and we could also hear other things being knocked around on the porch, then on the side of the house, then at the side door. We heard glass break. We could tell it was from one of the bedrooms, the windows were up high and they were very narrow so we knew that it would take some effort for anything to get thru them, but still we shivered from fright.

My aunts horn on her Cadillac sounded several times as she drove down the road and approached the house. That meant for us to meet her outside and help with the groceries. We didn't budge. We couldn't move. We didn't answer her yells from outside for us to come unload the bags, we didn't crawl out and unlock the door for her, nor answer her knocking. She finally had to use her keys and then give some hefty push's against the pile of items we had up against the door;the trash can, 25 pound bags of dog food, water jugs, and a variety of other stuff. We stayed put. She discovered us only after all the groceries had been brought in and she noticed that her bedroom door was closed and locked.

It was amazing that we hadn't cut each other in some way or another with the immature use of the knives in our haste to hide, and we were chastised in more ways then one when it came down to my aunt observing us slowly emerging from her bedroom with the kitchen weapons in hand. We all started talking at once in a fervor, then we finally let Joe tell his story first, then we finished with it breaking a window just before we heard her horn on the car. She must have startled it. She didn't laugh, she didn't respond at all at first, in fact she never said a word until she came back from inspecting the windows in the bedrooms. My aunt said indeed there was a broken window, broken from the outside in. She made us clean up our barricade and put up all the groceries. Later that night, after we were all in bed and my uncle came home, she related that evenings events to him.

The next morning, their dad warned us, "Stay out of the woods."

No problem.

He went on to say that he himself had went down in the woods earlier that morning and found several pits dug and filled with animal bones and parts of carcasses along the path that led to the old sawmill that couldn't be explained. There were also holes dug in the sides of the bluff along the hills that over-looked the old mill that looked like deep caves, big enough for a man to hide in. Then he told us that years before when the old boy scout camp use to be on the other side of Grand Rivers, that an unexplained creature with wolf features was seen along the waters edge close to the camp sites. He and his older son has witnessed it themselves one evening.

I went back home a few weeks after this happened. And since then it has never ceased to be a moment of complete terror lodged inside my mind, along with the horror experienced at the Oakwood Home. It would only be a couple of years later, after moving from the city down to Kentucky that once more I would come into the legend of the wolf creature by means of some old timers that use to live in Land Between the Lakes (LBL for short.). Their tales told to me while sitting on an old bench in front of the IGA down in Grand Rivers would help me draw a bigger picture of what this thing actually was. Then, a few more years in passing, in the early '80's, two police officers would tell me their own tale of the events of a tragic scenario discovered in one of the campgrounds down in LBL. Events that were never published in the media.

Just about ten years ago, in the early '90's, Joe and my dad who had come down from St. Louis to visit, decided to venture into those same woods in front of my aunts house. They took a couple of pistols and two rifles and were gone for several hours. These were two brave men, the bravest I know of, both of whom served in the military and fought in two separate wars, wars of their own time. These two men came back ashen faced and bewildered. They had walked all the way back to the old saw mill. The pits, fresh ones, were still around, filled with the bones of forest animals. The holes in the bluff still there also. They both experienced the feeling of being watched and felt an uneasiness that 'something' just wasn't right. The area where the sawmill was had no life stirring around it. No birds, no squirrels, no crickets, no bugs, even the small pond was still and lifeless. The birds that did fly made their way around the area and refused to fly over head. They couldn't shake the feeling of being observed by a secret watcher and both swore they saw a large black shadow lurking in the shade of one of the mysteriously dug caves. That had been the first time Joe had been down that far on that side of the woods since he was thirteen, and both of them agreed that it was to be the last. My dad said there are some things you just can't explain, that science doesn't know about it, and these things should be left alone, they are not a part of our modern world. He felt that what ever it was that had scared the crap out of us so many years ago, still existed in the same area. His intuition has never been wrong so far.

Urban legend? Maybe some of the stories passed along the years have been added too, stretched a bit, like all local folk lore, and first hand stories are over time. My story wasn't an urban tale though. It was a first hand account of something I really and truly do not want to believe in, and wish I could forget; erase from my memory, because the nightmares remain real even though the events are still unexplainable by the laws of science as we know it.

-Jan Thompson.

kayakpirate August 01, 2009 01:12

They're not Bigfoot...They're...Wolfen! So some stray dogs are walking around upright.Come on,get over it.Snoopy does the same thing,and I know for a fact that I've seen Scooby-Doo running upright.I watch the "Animal Planet" and "Cartoon Planet" so I know about this stuff...
So okay...we have werewolves or whatever,now what? How can we profit off this? If you bag one,in the current political climate...PETA will demand you get sent to prison for whacking an endangered or rare animal.Kill a real wolf in the U.S. in self defense,you'll find out...So that takes out killing one.Captures out also,hey the freakin' BEARS are afraid of these things,how ya going to fool one to trap it? They're like supernatural or something,so trapping one just sounds like a bad idea.
I say we make a thought out and concise presentation that brings to light they're own unique strenghts and the resulting problems that isolation from the on-coming world can cause.Its a win-win for them and us.
Think about it...train one to be wrestler on t.v.Now that would draw a crowd! Movies! No more make up/special effects,have a REAL friggin monster chasing the campers around.Full theatre,every day...guaranteed! They could become movie stars!They would be awesome security guards!The food service industry may not take to 'em,but the military and LE...hell,they could write their own ticket. Im just spitballing here,but I think we're all missing out on the obvious.
But in all honesty,its either guys with a still,or growing pot,out in the woods trying to scare people off...which of course take us right back to...Scooby-doo.

sld August 01, 2009 02:12

I grew up across the street from a old Plantation house in Alabama, as a kid I was always out looking for reptiles or squirrel hunting. I knew ever inch of these woods and spent most of my free time roaming them. I spent quite a few nights out there and never felt scared of anything.
I even saw a elk that lived in there, nobody would believe that I saw him. The first time he ran within 25 yards of me so I knew this was a elk not a deer. Months later other people started seeing him, turns out he had escaped from a ranch the year before.
My point is there are things in those woods not everybody saw.
One night after walking home from a friends house on the other side, something I had been doing for years without a flashlight since I new the trails so well. This night was different I don't think I was alone and went home and wrote down this story and that was the last time I ever entered those woods at night.

There comes a time in a persons life when he must face the greatest challenge in his mind. When the real and imaginary wreck havoc on his soul. Tonight I have faced one of those times (if it's the last I cannot say). Tonight the walk I just completed was the most horrifying night of my life. I have walked these paths many a night and by daylight. I know the paths well but tonight they came alive when my sixth sense was the strongest. The route I choose as the shortest but became the longest. The setting is a dark road ending in a gravel path through the woods then to another road and the trail where it all began. It is a long trail leading through the woods, the sound of crickets and ducks on a near by pond can be heard in the air but there was something else lurking in the shadows, something that can't be seen in the light. It can only exist in the shadows where you can't see it only sense it. You know it's there watching you, waiting. It doesn't use force but fear, the fear that lurks in your soul and won't let go. As I walk I want to turn and scream but I know I can't, it feeds on fear. I cannot bring myself to face it, I must continue. I try to think of something else but I cannot, the fear is too strong and it tears on my soul. It's trying harder to make me look back so I will lose my grip on reality and find sheer terror in it's depths, but I must not. The noises are closing in and it's about to overtake me, but I can't let it. I keep fighting it in my brain, I won't let it win. Finally I reach the safety of the light and it retreats back into the shadows to wait for it's next victim. I shall pray for any man on a similar journey that he will remain sane. As for me only time will tell.

EinheitElf August 01, 2009 02:39

Hey count me IN! This sounds like ONE HELL OF AN ADVENTURE!
I will have one of my FALS and a Saiga 12 with Brenneke slugs as a backup... No Point in being point unless you have FA...and I dont..yet. I also WILL start firing at 50yds on out if I see these things pop out like shrooms..if they get in knife range, you fukked up..

Seriously though, have a friend who used to go deer hunting in humbolt area here in KALI and had a 'hair raising' experience..

Also his friend-ex military and was doing work as a tracker,guide,etc..they hunted together once, my friend left early, his friend stayed longer......he fooken booked out so hard in the jeep and trailer that the door was swingin and shiit was flying!

I believe ALWAYS that when you are out in the boonies for whatever are on the menu 1 way or another....that is why I always have something along in the vehicle..hey better to have it........:eek:

mitchellh August 01, 2009 06:04

Here's a good one from ARFCOM

meestermurphy [Member]
7/15/2006 10:42:42 PM MST
Ok i figure i might as well let my story get out so it can be heard by more than ten people.

All my life till i was 18 i lived in a town called Wells in north eastern Nevada. Small town population of a thousand, so all of my outdoor activities involved being outdoors. From when i was 13-15 i saved up enough to buy an HK91. My dad bought it for me for $2761.44. From then on it went everywhere i did in the woods. When i got my drivers license it meant that i could go roaming about. My 1972 Toyota Landcruiser with a Chevy 350 for the close stuff (it got 5 miles per gallon on a ten gallon tank ) or my 1972 Dodge W200 with a 36 and 20 gallon tank, so anything outside of line of sight i took the Dodge.

One weekend i decided to explore around the Ruby Marshes, and go into the Ruby Mountains around there, right around old Fort Ruby, a fort that was built in 1860 to serve as an outpost for the pony express etc. I went into the mountains north of it and checked out some pretty cool terrain and old minesites. When i was going down the road i noticed some overgrown tracks that went into a canyon and decided to make it into a nevada highway and follow them. I followed it for about five miles or so and the road got better. It was grated well and continued on except for the fact there was a tree about three feet in diameter blocking the road. Beyond that looked pretty cool so i decided to get out on foot and check it out. After the tree the road went straight about 100 yards then sharply rounded to the right, went about another hundred yards then hooked left going to a mining cabin and a windmill on the top of the ridge. The side after where it hooks right is limestone next to the road with the ridge a constant 100 yards or so from the road.

Because of how i was raised, and my new found fondness for my 91 i went everywhere in the hills on foot armed. I had my 91 slung on my chest and 5 mags in my cheap korean nylon bandolier. My USP 45 my dad bought for me was in the also cheap ACE brand dropleg holster. I parked my Dodge and set out past the tree. As soon as i crossed it it immediately seemed weird. Anyone who has been out in the woods knows that there is always noise. When i parked my truck you could hear the birds singing and cicadas and other bugs buzzing about. As soon as i crossed the tree in the road it was silence. I kept walking up and did not see any bugs or anything moving. As i went up i felt uneasy, as if something was watching me the entire time.

On the way up i noticed most of the pines on the hill were broken off about ten feet up or so and many of the limestone rocks had chunks missing like someone punched a hole in sheetrock. I made it up to the cabin and it was pretty fucked up. Huge holes in the exterior, walls knocked down. Even for its age it was a lil too fucked up. I checked it out and found nothing recent so i went to the windmill. In the windmill there was a hollow shaft going down that was filled with water. I went up the ridge to the shaft and it was intact like it was just ran the day before. Right above it there were four hug piles or rocks making a rectangle where within there were mounts made of rocks. When i passed the pile of rocks the wind kicked up and it got downright cold. I felt like i was being watched so i decided i should leave.

The whole time i was walking back to the truck i felt like something was watching me. Once i got back on the road i kept hearing something follow me on the ridgeline. WHen i moved it moved. I stopped it stopped. I thought i was maybe being imaginative until rocks would slide down from the ridge. As i rounded the bend i heard the steps on the ridge pick up and i decided its time to shoot. Whatever it was had dashed between the cedars to a lonely pine 20 yards in either direction from cover. **** that i dumped all twenty rounds from my 91 onto the tree. Anyone who has shot an animal knows the difference between the thump on wood and thwack on an animal. I heard five or so thwacks at the end followed by a blood curdling yell. I dumped the empty mag on the ground and slapped a new one in and ran. I felt like the whole forest was coming down on me, i saw things move from trees from my side vision. I tried to jump across the tree and ate shit and rolled into my bumper. All of the sudden i could hear the birds and bugs. I got back up and looked behind the tree to see something resembling an upright wolf standing about 60 feet from me, behind the fallen tree. Its eyes were red in the daylight and when i looked at it for a moment i knew i should not be there and it said not to come back. I broke out of it and shot the mag in my 91 at it, most which i knew hit made no sound and it just turned towards me. I shot 5 rounds from my USP at it and saw it had no effect. Thats when i decided it was time to leave.

On the way back i made my 3 hour trip in into a 1 hour trip back. Once i got back into town no one believed me. A few weeks later i talked to a friend of mine that was an elder paiute indian and told him of what i had experienced. He asked me of where i went and i told him. He said i went into the sacred burial mounds that the Wendigo guarded.

This was the single most fucked up experience i have ever had. Few i have told of it and i do not care if anyone believes me. All i know is it happened to me and it is what it is. Ill never go back there alone. After he told me it could not be killed and i saw what i did i won't either.

Erick Z

Fn/form August 01, 2009 10:05

Sounds like a job for a UAV.

But I'll settle for renting a FLIR.

Radio August 01, 2009 11:36

Tales, told to an idiot.

The "sasquatch" don't exist. I'll take your point, because I ain't got time to bleed, but I WILL take a boomstick with me in case of the occasional bear, is all. Well, maybe a crazed renegade elk, those kind of elk that run amuck, darned renegade elk, but that's it.

Bet you believe in the Mystery Spot, too. :tongue:


Mebsuta August 01, 2009 16:21

Lord Radio, U have made your point, more than once. I won't say I know better than U, but I will say I know different.

Mebsuta August 01, 2009 16:37

My Wendigo Story

Many years ago I decided to drive my Roadrunner up to teh Indian Reservation and do some fishing. Normally, when U get there, there is a log cabin. You park and go in there and check in. They ask U if U R going camping, what kind of bait U R using, and all that.

This time, there was sign that said "Stop here and turn off your engine. Somebody will come out to see you."

So that's what I did. While sitting there, I noticed there were some other cars, but they were parked off to the side haphazzardly. It looked like the drivers were either slumped over the steering wheel dead or lying on the ground like they had been flung around.

I thought, "What is this?". At the Indian Reservation U do as U R told, so I waited. I rolled down the window and noticed no bugs were buzzing around. Bugs obey the laws of nature. Sometimes they buzz around and sometimes they don't.

At that point, Wendigo comes out of the cabin. He was about 7 feet tall and looked like a wolf that walks on two legs. He looked at me and he looked at my Roadrunner.

He said, "Is that a hemi in that thing?"

I said, "No Wendigo. It's a 383, which has a wedge-shaped combustion chamber."

"What is your compression ratio?" asked Wendigo.

I said, "10 to 1 static."

Wendigo starts looking over my Roadrunner. I was getting scared because it's really junky and I thought he would be pissed. Then he made the sign for me to fire it up.

I was nervous when I turned the key. Sometimes my baby is hard starting after running for a while.

"Come on baby." I thought. She lit right up! A 383 with a factory HP cam has kind of a bubbly idle that skips around, like this: blub blub blub BLUB BLUB blub blub blub BLUB blub blub BLUB BLUB.

Wendigo listened for a minute then stared at me. I thought I was dead. Then he gave me the high sign and waved me through! Glory to God!

I had a great day of fishing with nobody bothering me at all. Thanks Wendigo!

The End.

kayakpirate August 01, 2009 17:05

We used to camp out on the small islands around the SE coastline of St.Thomas
and around into the NE side of St.John going across the narrows towards Tortola and The Baths,(long before every tourist in the world made it a must see) and over to St.Peter island.Lots of ghost stories about abandoned souls lost in those islands.At night without anything but ocean and stars you can get into the hebee jeebies.But when the sun rises the next day,the winds howl becomes normal and the shadows are just scrub brush, the sounds of old bones following you in the dark,are just hermit crabs clunking around.You can talk yourself into just about anything.
A 15 year old running around blasting into the dark with a H&K 91 is the reason I like solo ops.No friendly fire from scared eagle scouts.If he had let the damn thing come at him those 7.62 rounds may have hit something besides nothing.Its these kinds of stories that lack credibilty,and thus raise suspicion on all such reports.Caul out the crap and find the stories from those who have a reputation to lose or are professionals that dont want negative speculation concerning their credibility...but still swear they saw something.Then,I'll listen.

fry August 01, 2009 17:13


Originally posted by W.E.G.
Does bigfoot shit on a glacier?

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