Hiking the coastal trail to False Klamath was something I loved to do back in the day. This is all past tense, as you can tell. Why, you ask? Because Bigfoot is there, and it is not worth the risk of losing my life.

I have heard of people having good experiences with these things, but not me. My experience was not pleasant at all. It was almost enough to keep me out of the woods for good!

Here is my story.

Coastal Trail Survival

Camping and hiking were things I loved to do on the weekends growing up. My dad and mom were avid outdoors people who couldn’t go two weeks without a good hike or an overnight campout.

When this all happened, I was seventeen years old and allowed to go hiking and camping on my own. My parents had full confidence in my outdoor skills because I learned them from them, and proved myself.

This was going to be a two-in-one trip for me as well. First, it was for fun, and second, I was going to write about my adventure for a final paper in my AP English class.

Writing, for me, was something I wanted to do after high school. The plan was to attend college, get a degree in journalism, and hopefully write travel guides, books, and articles in magazines. My focus would be on the outdoors, of course, including hiking and camping in different places across the U.S.

By age seventeen, I had been to almost every National Forest west of Colorado. As I said, my parents loved the outdoors. This trip would take me to one of my favorite places, the coastal trail in the Klamath section.

My trip would begin north of False Klamath at Last Chance Trailhead. I would end it at the False Klamath Cove. I had four days to hike it all, although that was more than anyone needed for such a short distance. The reason for so many days was to write as much as possible about my experience.

This would include writing about he flora, fauna, and some of the survival and camping skills I would use during my hike. The fauna, however, would take up most of my paper, as you will learn.

I never imagined for a moment that I would ever experience such a thing as this in the woods. After I shared my experience, my parents told me about a few strange incidents they’d had in Oregon and Washington State. I was surprised they’d never brought it up before, but they explained it was because they didn’t want me to be afraid of the woods.

Besides, their experience was mostly sounds in the distance. Howling, whoops, and even a strange whistling they’d heard one night camping up near Crater Lake in Oregon. Mine, however, was more than sounds, much more!

Setting Off.

My dad dropped me off at the trailhead. We made sure I had everything I needed. Double-checking your supplies and gear is a must! All was good, and I set off after a farewell from my dad, and, of course, a quick prayer for a safe journey.

I am glad we said that prayer.

I was feeling very optimistic about the whole hike. The weather was actually supposed to be great, although you always plan for the worst, of course. And I did.

That morning was perfect. The wind was mild, the birds were chirping, and the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and beach to the west could be heard as clear as church bells in a small town, and just as beautiful.

I watched as my dad got in the Range Rover and headed off on the road, heading home. I took my first steps down the trail not knowing what lay ahead, but thinking everything was right in the world.

I never experienced anything out-and-out crazy up to that point in the woods. The scariest moments I ever had were almost stepping on a timber rattler in Oregon and a close encounter with a mountain lion. The mountain lion was the most frightening.

When you see them in real life, they’re far larger than they appear on video or in the static images of a biology textbook. There I was, walking along a trail that was thick as thieves with trees on either side of me, when it jumped out in front of me, not twenty feet away.

I was paralyzed with fear. I stood there as still as a statue. It did too. It looked right at me. I started to wonder if I should grab my bear spray or stand still. My gut told me to stay still, so I did.

It looked at me, but never bared its teeth or wagged its tail. Then, like the fastest runner alive, it jumped off the trail and sped off into the woods, disappearing into the deep shadows of the trees I could not see past.

Talk about scary.

There I was taking my first steps on the trail, not knowing that something scarier than that awaited me.

Stars and Trees

I had traveled nearly five miles that first day. I was getting on a little faster than I thought I would, or wanted to. So, I slowed my pace a bit. I could still hear the ocean in the distance, but I was fenced in on both sides by a thick wall of trees and shrubs.

There were mostly Douglas Fir, but here and there, Redwood trees stood like imperial guards who wanted to keep anyone and everyone out of their forest. I stuck to the trail as I looked up at them and agreed to their demand and kept to the path.

Dark shadows from the trees fell over the trail as the sun began to dip lower to my west. It became harder to navigate as every minute passed. It was time, I thought, to set up camp and get ready for the night.

By the time I had set up my tent and started a small campfire, the darkness had settled in. Stars, I could see millions of them, even with the small sliver of a view I had with the towering trees on either side of me. They were so bright they literally looked like diamonds twinkling in the sky.

There was a slight breeze that first night, and it was then that I first noticed something. It was a strange smell. It was not like something had died, but something smelled awful.

It reeked of rotten meat mixed with a skunky smell. It was so strong on the wind that it almost burnt my nostrils like a cut-up onion would. It was overpowering to say the least.

Bears can have a horrible, bad smell to them. Skunks, of course, we all know too well. But this was a mixture of all that and rotten meat thrown on top. I sat up in my little tent, wiped my eyes off as they had teared up a bit from the pungent smell, and zipped up the one little window I had.

Hopefully, I thought, that would take care of the smell. It took a while, but eventually, the smell dissipated, and I drifted off to sleep. That was the beginning of things to come.

That night, I woke several times to the noises of animals moving about. During the wee hours of the morning, before the sun came up, I woke to something nearby. It was heavier than the earlier noise of smaller critters. This, you could tell, was heavy, very heavy.

This made me sit straight up. It had to be coming from just up the trail. To me, it sounded like someone walking up it, towards my camp. I could hear the crunch of the gravel and knew it had to be bipedal, a person.

I was not as scared as I was feeling surprised someone would be hiking around that early in the morning. So, I called out, letting whomever it was know I was there. The movement stopped immediately.

I sat there listening intently for a reply, but none came. That is when my heart started racing a bit. Then, without warning, whoever it was started walking off easterly, into the woods. That caught my attention more than hearing them in the first place on the trail!

Who walks off into the forest in the dark?

I decided to get out of my tent and stoke my fire, which was but a few red coals by that point. When you believe something dangerous is nearby, stoke your fire, make some noise while doing it. This is a skill you should understand and put into practice.

Animals can be skeptical of moving in closer when you start to move around as if you are not bothered by them. Of course, I had my bear spray with me as well.

Daytrippin’

Have you ever had that creepy feeling that you are being watched? It really is an uncomfortable feeling.

After breakfast, I headed off down the trail. Today’s hike would be six miles, putting me about one-quarter of the way to my destination. I was still a bit ahead of schedule, but I knew some hills were coming up that would slow me down.

There is that feeling you get, whether it is from something as harmless as a deer or as dangerous as a mountain lion —a feeling that you are being watched when out in the woods.

I was starting to get that feeling just as I hit the first major incline of my hike.

I was very athletic in my younger years, but even some of those short inclines, I recall, took the breath out of me. At one point, I stopped for a minute to take a sip of water. That is when I heard something to my left.

The woods here in the Pacific Northwest can be so thick that you can barely see ten yards into them, even with the sun high in the sky on a cloudless day. Even though that day was partly cloudy, I still could not see very far into the trees.

The sound was the cracking of branches. I couldn’t tell at first if it came from footfall or what. I took a sip of water, and again, a branch cracked far back in the woods. This was a single break.

I gave it up to a buck or something else messing passing by, and got back to my hike. Still, that feeling of being watched only followed me.

By the time I had hit my fourth mile, the inclines had all but ceased. There were one or two here and there, but not as steep. I decided to stop up ahead before a bend in the trail to have a snack and some more water.

That is the point where everything really began. It was the cracking of branches again, this time, however, it sounded like wood cracking under footfall. I know, and knew at the time, many sounds in the woods; this was footfall.

A bear? A Cougar? A lone wolf? It seemed heavy enough to consider each of these predators. As I set my backpack down, I took a sip of water and listened carefully to my surroundings.

As I set my water down on an old stump, a stick, a large branch actually, came flying out of the woods, missing me by mere feet! I stood up immediately, and my heart started pounding. In my mind, only a person could throw branches!

I yelled out to see if anyone was there, but no answer came from the thick woods. I quickly put my things away, put on my backpack, and hiked on, one eye on the trail, the other on the woods.

Again and again, I could hear branches cracking as whoever it was shadowed me along the trail, staying just out of sight in the trees and brush.

I was getting worried, even a bit scared. I felt the side of my hip, my trusty hunter’s knife, one Mick Dundee would be proud of, was in its sheath at the ready. It did make me feel a bit better.

I hiked on, and eventually, by late afternoon, whoever it was following me must have gotten bored and left. I could hear no more footfall.

The Campfire Fire

After twelve long, and a bit worrisome, miles, I finally decided to stop at a small clearing next to the trail. Again, I had hiked further than I needed to, but that was okay by me; I was being shadowed after all.

My thoughts about the situation eventually faded after hearing nothing for miles. After setting up my camp, as the sun was diving into the west, I started my campfire to make some Mac-n-Cheese. For dessert, some trail mix heavy on the chocolate chips. Thanks, mom!

The food hit the spot. As I cleaned everything up, my thoughts went back to the earlier experience of being followed. The thoughts started creeping me out, so I turned my mind to the fire and the beauty around me. The sun dipped again, and the stars started popping out like goosebumps on your skin.

It was late by the time I had turned in. It was pitch black, other than the stars and my fire, that was for sure. I fell asleep pretty quickly, and I thought I was out for hours, but I was woken not an hour later by a strange noise.

I kept hearing what sounded like raspy breathing. At first, I thought I was dreaming, but I wasn’t; I was wide awake. From the opposite side of the trail and my campfire, I could hear it come and go like someone with a large set of lungs had just hiked Mt. Rainier.

I sat up and listened intently, nervously. Suddenly, I heard the same cracking of branches I had heard earlier in the day, as if someone were walking through the thick of the woods. I decided to make my presence known, as if they did not know with the fire going.

I shouted out, “Hey!” Then it stopped. No breathing, no crunching of branches and underbrush. Just silence, not even a cricket was making its music. I decided to stick my head out of my tent, bear spray in hand. Nothing.

I stepped out and poked at the fire for a second before I practically messed my pants.

“Rhhheeeaaaaaaahhhhh!” came a scream from the pit of Hades. I fell back, and not just out of fear, but that scream, well, you could feel it rumble or vibrate right through you! I thought about jumping back into my tent, but then I thought the better of it.

It is not a good position to be in when you can’t see danger coming. I needed to stay next to the fire, I felt.

Again, that high-pitched scream came, and a second after that, a large limb hit my tent, tearing a small hole in it. I was freaking out by this point. I started yelling back. I knew this was not a bear; this thing threw something at me, or towards me, at least.

I picked up my bear spray that had dropped when I fell. I was now pointing it in the direction I believe the scream came from. Then I heard the crackling of sticks and brush again as this, whatever it was, started walking again.

It was circling me now. The screaming continued. It was so loud, so powerful, it shook me to my core. From fear, my body started to shut down as if it were trying to go into shock. I fought the feeling and shuffled around the fire, trying to keep the fire between myself and whatever it was.

The moon was full, and it started to peek over the trees by this point. My vision beyond the fire became increasingly clear. I looked down the trail, and that is when I saw it.

It was the tallest thing on two legs I’d ever seen in my life! It took only one stride to cross over the trail and disappear into the woods, screaming as it went. My mind tried and tried to convince me that I was seeing a known animal, but my gut and my spirit were telling me the truth.

I was being stalked, harassed, or worse yet, possibly hunted by a Bigfoot! Again, looking up the trail, it stepped out of the woods. I could not see its face clearly, but there was no mistaking those brilliant red eyes. They towered above me, literally. Its shadow had to be at least four feet wide!

It was tall, and its long hair wisped around in the cool night breeze, making this thing look even more incredible than I could ever explain in words. Its arms reached down past its knees, and when it moved off into the woods again, you could feel it through the ground.

Screaming still, it did not circle my camp; it was moving off. The screams continued for minutes, but each one seemed to come from further and further away. My body started to right itself, and my mind began to calm, as much as it could, at least.

I started adding so much wood to the campfire that it was turning into a bonfire. That was good with me. I sat there, wide awake in front of my tent with the fire raging before me.

Crazy. Scary. A monster was in the woods. These were the only things that entered my mind.

The next morning, I hiked quickly until I came across signs of civilization. I came across a home where an older couple lived. They let me in, gave me some coffee, and let me call my dad, who sped off before he could hang up the phone to come and get me.

The Paper

A week later, I wrote my paper. My teacher and those in my class were astounded at my tale. Some believed me, while some did not, but still liked the story anyway.

I have never, ever been back on that particular trail. I never will either. I still love the outdoors, though. I still hike and camp, even alone, but I stick to familiar places nowadays, more populated places at that.

I know what’s out there in the woods of the Pacific Northwest. Bigfoot, it is real, so be careful when you are out and about out there, trust me, it will keep you safe to be alert and aware of everything…

That is my story, thanks,

Ronald.