Personal Bigfoot Encounter Accounts in Tennessee, Utah & California

"A couple of years ago, I was on a weeklong backpacking trip in the Uinta Mountains in Utah during late August. I spent my last two nights near Grandaddy Lake.

Before I entered the basin, I encountered two guys going the opposite direction. They informed me that they had been there for four days and hadn't seen another person. During that it was very quiet there.

When I arrived in the basin, I noticed that it was very quiet and not much wildlife to be heard or seen, including birds. Anyhow, the first night and the next day were uneventful and I hiked the perimeter of the lake, never encountering anyone else.

The next day a storm passed through the area driving the temperature enough that it actually snowed and stuck to the ground. (I was at around 10,000 ft / 3,000m elevation) So I hunkered down for the night in my tent as soon as the sun dipped behind the peaks.

At about 2:30am I was awakened by a loud knocking sound to what seemed to be the north of my camp. It took me to a second to focus my attention, then I heard what was an unmistakable whoop coming from the same direction.

I laid in my sack quietly. Then again I heard another whoop that seemed to be coming from further too the north. This was followed by a reply from what I'm guessing was the original individual. This went on for about 15 minutes, each time the sound drifting further to the north. Eventually it went quiet again.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well the rest of the night. I had to be on the trail early the next morning to get back to my car, so I didn't have a chance to go look around for any physical evidence. I'm not saying it was a Sasquatch, but I've never heard anything like that before. And I've spent most of my life hiking, hunting and backpacking. I did some research on BFRO and there have been a few reports in that area. Anyhow, that's my possible encounter." SC

Big Sur is a mountainous area in south central California situated on the edge of the Los Padres National Forest (which is almost 3000 square miles large) and over looking the Pacific Ocean on the western side.

Three friends and myself (ranging from 16-18) who lived in nearby Salinas, had planned on driving to a secluded spot in Big Sur that we called “Top of the World.” This particular area of Big Sur wasn’t frequented by people except for some occasional vehicle traffic from locals or the rare tourist or hiker during the day and was void of humans at night. At night there was of course critters (bobcat, fox) and even the occasional mountain lion. No people, no cops, perfect location for four party animals.

We drove down the Pacific Coast Highway and turned off on the Old Coast Road which winds up into the mountains (the Old Coast Road is a hard packed dirt road and former primary route in and out of Big Sur prior to the construction of the Bixby Bridge).

Our spot, “The Top of the World,” was right off and above the dirt road with an amazing view of the Pacific Ocean. The spot was directly accessible from the old dirt road which had steep cliffs on one side, and the other a very deep ravine with the Bixby creek (or little Sur river, I don’t remember) running through it.

Well, the party never even started because of the event I will now describe. I might add that the events of this night are burned into my memory. It was almost traumatic. With the exception of some (exact) conversation, I remember everything like it was yesterday.

Steve parked his mom’s Chevy Vega at the base of the incline leading to our spot, grabbed some beers out of the hatch back (which we left open) and walked halfway up the very steep incline. The distance between where Steve's car was parked and the top of the hill was maybe 30 yards

What happened next all took place in a matter of seconds but it seemed like an eternity to me.

We were sitting next to each other in a row facing the Pacific Ocean. Behind us was the crest of the hill about 15 yards up. Beyond that, the dark and foreboding forest. looking out at the Pacific, talking little and just taking in the beautiful view whilst sipping our beers, we got quiet and maybe a bit reflective (I know I did). It was beautiful.

At one point, in the midst of silence, something weird happened (Later, when all this was over, we talked about this strange feeling that none of us had ever experienced).

What happened was this: all of a sudden, we all looked at each other; and without speaking a word, as if every one of us was receiving an unspoken message, or intuitive response to nature or a gut feeling, we simultaneously looked around behind us, at the top of the hill; this is what we saw:

There, at the top, not 15 yards away, was a creature. It was simply standing there, observing (us). I will try my best to describe what I (we) saw despite the fact that it was almost midnight (which added to the creep factor) and our eyes were well acclimated to darkness by then.

This “being” was not human. That I know for sure. It just stood there, completely upright, arms to the side, facing in our direction. Whether or not it was looking at us I couldn’t tell because unfortunately, due to lighting conditions and the angle (I guess), I saw only the outline of a head and body; a very hairy head and body that was dark in color. No facial features that I can remember. There was very long “hair” (fur?) flowing down from the head but there was an opening where a face must have been. All I saw was darkness between the hair on the head. No eyes or other facial features. The head hair seemed to flow down and mix with the rest of the hairy body. I distinctly remember the arms. They were long but seemed to fit the size of the body. I don’t recall them being overly long like an ape but they also had long flowing hair; as did the torso and legs. It was tall, maybe seven feet but that could have been because we were looking up at it. It was also wide. It gave me the impression of great strength. It made absolutely no sound.

Anyone that’s been in combat or other life or death situations knows what I mean with fight or flight. “fight” wasn’t an option (obviously) so we did, once again simultaneously, what most humans would do: GET THE F*** OUT OF DODGE!!

We ran. I stumbled and fell because of the steep incline and the guys made it to the car before me. I didn’t even try to get in, rather, I simply jumped into the open hatchback. Steve started the Vega and gunned it. We only got two corners away from the Bigfoot before Steve lost control and we went sliding over the side of a cliff. Thankfully, The first 20 yards of the drop was gradual and was overgrown with thick underbrush that slowed the car to a stop before dropping off the steep cliff and into the creek below. We all climbed out, thanking our luck and climbed back up to the road.

Now we had to make a choice. Walking back in the direction we came would be only three miles or so back to Highway 1 (the Pacific Coast Highway). But that direction would also take us by the last place we saw the Bigfoot. The unanimous decision was to walk the other direction which was 5x as long to reach the highway. That’s how scared we were.

It took hours but we made it, alive and healthy with a story we could share with friends and family for the rest of our lives." Name withheld