Tonight's encounter comes to you from long ago.
We're pulling this one out of the vault.
Hi, Nance.
This is a long and twisted and roundabout email.
I just read it completely once I finished it,
and I have to say it's a bit of a mess.
So do what you want with it.
I'm old,
then I'm tired of trying to put things in order to make sense out of them.
So here we go.
I live in Clark, Colorado.
This area is mountainous and also rural.
From my back porch, I have a clear view of Grouse Mountain and Little Mountain.
My mom and dad built this house, then they added on to it and made it more livable while I was still young.
Now it's what you would call a "good and proper house."
I grew up here and would not and have not wanted to live anywhere else.
Over the years, I have seen and heard a fair share of weird things around this area.
Most of it I took with a grain of salt.
As many of those claims came from newcomers to the area
who really weren't used to living away from cities and suburbs.
And then some of them came from people who were regular locals, that's true.
But they were just plain weird and some downright untrustworthy.
But then again, I myself have witnessed some very strange things.
So I now hesitate to call other people's stories untrue.
There are a lot of different things that need to go into this email.
I thought about it and I made some bullet points down on a paper notebook so I don't forget anything.
But I have no idea how it's all actually going to come out once I start typing.
So if this doesn't seem like a smooth story, I am real sorry.
As for my house, situationally, what I have told you is about all that I will tell you.
Other than there are cleared spaces and trees both around the property.
But that can be said of most of the houses here.
I still live here and there are very few houses in the area.
So just telling you my view of the two mountains,
that will narrow me down to maybe two dozen homes in the area.
So understand, for my privacy, that's as far as I will go on descriptions.
I grew up here and I bought out my siblings' shares when my parents passed on.
So in essence, I have lived here the majority of my life.
I also married late in life and I brought my beautiful bride to live here with me.
We never were able to have children, but we were happy here until she passed
after a short and furious battle with cancer.
That was some decade ago, but I still carry on our tradition of early morning coffee on the back porch,
watching the sun from the east spread across the mountain sides.
We also love to watch the shadows fall in the evenings too.
One evening, a few years back, we had sat outside on a very frosty evening,
all bundled up in our jackets and our coffee in thick insulated mugs.
Snow was forecasted overnight.
The skies were going to be incredibly clear and bright
and right then the smell of snow in the air was strong and sharp in my nose.
We were pushing it we knew sitting out there with it being so cold.
Normally, we would not sit out in such temperatures, but we figured this might be the last time
that we can sit outside, possibly until spring.
So we bundled up to enjoy the snow-centred air,
and to see the crystal clear navy blue skies dotted with stars that were sure to come that evening.
As a dusk fell that night, we took up our places out back and settled in.
We were sitting and talking about a lot of nothing when my wife said,
"Do you see it?"
I asked her, "See what?"
She pointed far across to the edge of our land and towards the base of Grouse Mountain.
I looked and I saw a large and dark shape, something like a person.
It was heading across an open area over to the far edge of the valley where the trees started
thickening up onto the mountain side. It was threading its way in between trees
and then started up the mountain side, and by luck it chose one of the few routes up that mountain
side that we could see for a distance up the side. There were many areas of thinned out trees
and some with no trees, so every now and then we could see its progress.
And I knew some of the area that that shape was crossing. Much of it is difficult with unexpected
rises and steep climbs. I noticed these did not slow the figure down. We saw the figure head up
the side of Grouse Mountain until the trees were so thick and the shadows so deep we could no longer
see them. When the shape disappeared my wife asked me, "Well, who do you reckon that was?"
I told her I didn't know, and that while I knew a lot of fools in the area,
I didn't know any of them to be so stupid as to take off up in the mountains like that was snow
coming. And by like that I meant that the shape didn't seem to be carrying anything.
The shape was smooth and fast, it wasn't bumpy like it was carrying a pack or a tent or anything.
I will admit that my old eyes aren't what they weren'ts were, even back then,
but they are and were still sharp enough to know exactly what I saw.
My wife and I sat there a while longer watching, but it never did show itself again on that evening.
We sat out there that night long enough to brew a second pot of coffee and watch our breath come out
puffy white when we talked it had gotten so cold. And by then the stars were glittering in the night
sky and we finally called it a night and went inside. I think I remember that night so well because
it would be the last time we sat out there like that, but I didn't know it then.
A couple days later though, I heard a neighbor tell a story about seeing a sask watch trying to get
into their small greenhouse for what, who knows, there was no food or vegetables in there.
He said that he fired a shot over its head and it ran off. He said this was late afternoon,
approaching dusk and he saw it very clear. And the truth is if I hadn't seen what I saw a few nights
before that I still couldn't identify, well still I would have snickered with the rest of them when
he told that story. But I wasn't so quick to do so after seeing that shape go up the side of the mountain.
And while I don't remember hearing a gunshot when he said this happened, others in the area said
they did hear a gunshot that night. I hadn't told anyone what we had seen because while I didn't
seem important until right then. When I heard his story I had a rethink on what we had seen.
After hearing that story, I was doubly intrigued. I parked myself at the kitchen window that looked
out toward the over area all that winter. I was waiting for it to reappear, but it never did.
I thought many times about that night that we saw that shape. I thought about it all winter
and it stayed sharp in my mind until spring came. That is you see early that spring before the last
of the snows had melted away. My wife was diagnosed with stage three stomach cancer and by November
she was gone. She couldn't do the chemotherapy you see. Every time she tried she got a lung embolism
and the last one almost killed her when she did try. So she said no more chemotherapy and came home
to rest and go in peace, which is what she did. My wife took her last breaths late that November,
looking out at a bright blue sky behind a snow-covered grouse mountain from the large family room windows
where her bed was set up. About an hour before she passed, I was holding her hand and her eyes were open.
I felt her squeeze my hand and very quietly she said, "Do you see it?"
I was startled. She hadn't spoken for two days, so I said, "What? See what? What do I see?"
She never did answer me, but she never took her eyes off the mountain.
I was so stunned. I was certain she was seeing something out there. I got my binoculars and looked out
but I saw nothing but snow and trees. I sat down, took her hand again and asked her,
"What should I see? What's out there?" But she had drifted off to some kind of deep sleep.
"Do you see it?" Those were her last words to me. I get a shiver when I think about that. Those were
the words she said to me also the night we saw that shape. "Do you see it?" After she passed,
"Well, I can't tell you much about that hole next year." I existed. Yes, I did. And somehow the
bills got paid and the groceries got bought and put away and I made my sandwiches and I ate and I kept
breathing. But I don't remember much of it at all. What I do remember, though, is her asking me,
"Do you see it?" I swear. There were many mornings I woke up with her voice ringing in my ears saying,
"Do you see it? Do you see it?" It haunted me that I didn't know what she saw that last hour
or if she saw anything at all. But I know she believed she did. But what was it?
It wasn't until the second year after losing my wipe that I felt like I was now again with the living.
I was now more than just some meat-covered skeleton that managed to breathe and eat and sleep.
I started to feel like blood coursed through my veins again. And I now noticed the meadow flowers in
the spring and I took pleasure in watching the sunrise and the sunset again. I don't think I'd
seen them for two years. But in everything I did see, I would always tell my wife what I was seeing
as if I was answering her eternal question. Do you see it? Yes, I did. I suddenly saw everything.
I know I'm getting all sappy telling this. I am very sorry. I can't think about these times without
feeling it all over again. And as weird as it is, all of this, losing her, her question of,
"Do you see it constantly in my head?" All of that is somehow wrapped up with the Sasquatch.
I guess because it was a whole time period. I am sorry. I don't know how to tell the one
without the other. So let me get on with telling the rest of the story.
So that second year after she was gone, I noticed many things as I came back to life as I had come to
think of it. One thing that popped up was a new TV show that I just noticed called "Finding Bigfoot".
I clicked past it on the remote and suddenly went back to it. The first couple of episodes were
strange to me, but I was compelled to keep watching it. You see, I'd already had an idea of what we
might have seen up there on Grouse Mountain. I'd begin to think about that shape we had seen.
That's when I thought about my neighbor saying what he saw that night and shot at.
I was finally doing some math and getting some possible answers. I wanted to know if that is what
I had really seen. And if so, could I see it again? Could I get up close to one?
Looking back, I think it may have been just another obsession that my mind was forming to help me cope
with grief and loneliness. I had a lot of sudden obsessions at that time. New things to research,
to read up on and fill up notebooks with lots of scribbles, tons of documentaries to watch.
I suddenly wanted to understand things like aerodynamics, geology, botany, and other topics like
all things paleontological and so many more things. And I somehow wound my way to cryptosuology,
which of course became my biggest interest of all. So when I say I was obsessed, I mean I was
obsessed with a great many things, and all of them started out as just a coping mechanism for grief.
I began sitting out on my back porch with binoculars every evening and every morning.
I had read and heard that Sasquatch are most active during those times in addition to the whole night.
But months went by and I saw nothing all that spring and summer. I saw many other wonderful things
that I probably would have missed if I had not been sitting out there. But I did not see what I was
looking for. I would sit out there in the darkness sometimes, and I would talk to my wife as if she
were still sitting in the other rocker. And to my mind she was there. I would talk to her about this
creature that we had seen, and I would tell her all the things I had learned and read. Now you can
go ahead and laugh if you want. But as an older man, with no children and no family nearby,
well it was a good way to ease my loneliness. At night I would sit there in the eerie quiet darkness
and listen for anything unusual out there. But I never heard anything that I was unable to identify.
Now late that summer I felt strong enough and clear enough of mind to go exploring
up Grouse Mountain. That seemed a good place to start since that was last where I saw it.
I saw many things that I thought might have been bedding areas big enough for Sasquatch.
I saw many broken invent trees. I saw many different formations of trees put together.
I saw saplings braided together in a decorative way invent over.
Those trees were too thick for a man's hand to do that. But maybe they were still young
and pliable enough for something stronger, say such as a Sasquatch, to have done it.
I observed mounds of scat that was from nothing identifiable. And every evening that I would come home
late in the darkness I would hear my wife ask me. Did you see it?
And every night I would shake my head wearily and I would say no honey. I didn't see it that day.
But I would keep looking. Another thing that summer I happened to hear that someone said they were
harassed and chased down Hans Peak Trail by what they said was a big foot.
Now Hans Peak is barely three miles as the crow flies from where I live.
So I soaked up all the fifth and sixth hand details that were told to me as much as I could.
They were all sketchy and conflicting. But I tried to track down who told who what? To try to get
back to the original person that was supposedly chased, but I had no luck. I went up Hans Peak myself
several times. The Peak itself wasn't interesting. It's open and rocky. Great views, but probably not
somewhere a Sasquatch would hang out. I was sure the incident occurred along the trail to the Peak.
And that goes through forest. I was just about to give up on Hans Peak, but I went up again
anyway. On my way up that trail on that one occasion, I suddenly had a skin crawling moment.
I heard several tree falling sounds. It was a sunny day. There was no breeze or wind.
We had not had any bad weather recently that could weaken trees.
More interestingly, I would hear a tree fall. In seven to ten seconds later, I would hear splintering
and another tree would fall. This happened four times in a row. I've lived in Colorado my whole life,
but I have never known trees to fall like dominoes in such an orderly fashion.
I was curious, and I wanted to see for myself what this could be. I had an idea, but I thought for
sure it would turn out to be nothing. But I set off in the direction that I heard the trees falling
anyway. I followed it as well as I could, but after a minute or two, I wasn't sure if I was still
going the right way anymore. The trees weren't falling, so I was kind of guessing. I kept going
anyway, telling myself that if I didn't find something soon, I'd turn back. I did not want to get lost
on the side of that mountain. But I did find them, and I found a lot of them. I came out of thick forest
into an area where the pines were more sparse. It wasn't a meadow exactly, but a more open spot
on the mountain side. I stood in awe of what I was seeing. I counted twenty-seven broken pines there,
almost in circles. Most were blonde wood fresh where the brakes were. I knew then this was not usual
forest breakage. This was too controlled. All the brakes were roughly the same height on the trees,
and all the trees pointed in the same direction, which gave it a circular appearance in rings.
Like I said, I lived in Colorado most of my life. I knew this was deliberate.
I spent several minutes there, looking around the area carefully, just to make sure there was
no other explanation for what I was seeing. After a few minutes, I suddenly froze up inside.
I had another skin crawling moment. I had the distinct feeling I was not alone.
I didn't know if it was a dangerous animal that was coming near me, or a person. I had had this
feeling before in the forest. Once it was a bear, another time a moose, and another time, a couple of
dangerous individuals. But I digress. I knew in that moment I was not alone there. I could feel a
very hard stare directed toward me. My face flushed hot, and I had a micro-sweat break out all over me.
I had been kneeling by a broken tree, looking at the fresh brake. I slowly stood up,
and did a slow circle looking around. All I saw were trees that had been broken. But as I made the
circle, something stuck out as odd to me. There was one stump in the distance, way at the outer edge
of the rings of broken trees. It looked as if it had been burned by fire years ago,
but it had been worn smooth by the wind in the rain. The dark color was so very different from all
the broken trees and stumps. They were covered with gray and brown pine bark, but not this stump.
This dark-burned stump was about four feet tall and was roughly about a hundred feet away from me.
I don't think that it would have stood out to me so easily, except for the dark color.
I was curious about it, and I couldn't shake the feeling I wasn't alone.
And I can't tell you why, but I started walking directly towards that dark stump. I wanted to have a
look at it. I got as close as twenty feet from it, and the tree stump suddenly grew to about seven
feet tall. It sprouted long legs and walked away very fast. It stood up just as I got close enough
to discern that the detail I saw was fur, not burned tree bark, and that it seemed to have some long
lines wrapping all around it. Those lines became arms when it stood up. When it stood up,
its side was facing to me, then it turned to put its back to me and to walk away.
I then had the unsettling realization that it had been squatting and was all wrapped around
itself nice and tight, and it had one eye on me, probably. The whole time as I boldly approached it.
I thank my lucky stars that it walked away from me and not toward me, because it would have been
no contest if it came at me. Even at that time I was becoming an older man, and not the strong
youth that I once had been. Shucks, even in my prime, I would have been no match for that sass watch,
which I do believe was male, because I saw nothing to tell me otherwise.
I can't give you a better description than anyone else of what it looked like. It was big,
it was wide, it moved fast, and it was covered in dark fur, and its legs looked incredibly powerful
and muscular. I saw it from the side, and then I saw its back side, which looked much as you would
expect. It did have wide shoulders, and when it walked I did see the shoulder muscles moving.
When I turned to finally leave the area after a few minutes because I was a little disoriented,
I had to stop and think clearly, because I didn't want to go in the wrong direction and get myself
lost on the mountain. I knew my mountains at home well, but I did not know this mountain by hand.
I looked behind me several times as I left to make sure that it wasn't coming after me,
but it was long gone, and I did not see it at all. All the way home I kept saying out loud,
"Yes, yes, I saw it, I did see it, I saw it!" I said it as if my wife could finally hear me,
and who knows, maybe she could. But I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I was determined to go
back up to Hans Peak a few more times before the snow fell, but I did not make it back up there that
year for a variety of reasons. But I did think about it all winter long. I was of a mind to call some
of those groups or some other people about it, but I had seen how that had gone for some other people
that I know in the area, so I wasn't going that route. Now in spring came, I went back up the trail to
Hans Peak. I thought I knew where it was that I had gone off trail and found all the broken trees,
but I spent several days trying to find those broken trees. I never did find them again.
I tried on various trips to the area, and I never found them, but I'm certain I know where they
should have been, and I have been stumped that I cannot find them again. I've asked if anyone I know
has come across any in that area, but everyone says no. I have finally given up.
It's been many years now, and I am now into my 70s. It's been a few more years since I've climbed
the trail up to Hans Peak. Truth is, I'm getting too old to be doing that, especially on my own.
I also have a pending knee replacement, so for the moment any such activities as that,
well, they're not an option at all for me. I still keep a watch of a Grouse Mountain and on Little Mountain.
I keep my ears peeled to listen for noises in the night, though I've never heard anything suspicious.
I believe Sasquatch is still out there. I think they're roaming the nearby mountains, and maybe
someday I will see one again. Maybe I'm just an old man, getting all sappy and connecting all kinds of
things that probably really mean nothing. But ever since that day, whenever I wake up and I hear my
wife ask me, "Do you see it?" Or if I hear her voice, and it comes to me in the darkness late at night
when I'm sitting outside, and she asks me, "Did you see it?" I answer her without hesitation.
Yes, I see it, and yes, I have seen it.
Every day I miss her more than the day before. You can call me the lonely man at the foot of the mountain.
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