It was the scariest moment of our young lives. Actually, we thought for a moment that our lives were over. I never, ever experienced anything up on that mountain before. That night, however, we were running for our very existence!

I never thought I would actually see a Bigfoot, then again, I never thought I would see two of them! There were warning signs, though, but when you are young and in love, nothing else really matters, right?

Here is my story…

Two Teenagers

I will say this: I was not, I repeat, I was not a good kid. Some called me a troublemaker, others a hooligan, and some believed I would end up in prison before my senior year of high school.

But something changed me, well, someone helped me change.

Her name was Sara. She had just moved to our little town located along what is touted as the “Bigfoot Highway.” And it is, truly.

I was a sophomore in high school when we met. Her family moved here from Arizona during the summer of 1989. She was pretty, kind to a fault, and very smart. Why was she interested in me? I had no idea.

It was the first day of school, and I was sitting in home room, which was the first thing we did every day: go to our home room for the Pledge of Allegiance, listen to the school news and happenings of the day, and the lunch menu.

I was sitting there when she walked in. Brown hair, short and angled inward at the chin. She did not wear a lot of makeup, which did not matter because she did not need it.

The teacher, Mr. Walley, pointed her towards the empty chair next to me. Talk about luck, I thought. The problem was that she was so pretty that I became a bungled mess of confusion. She said ‘hello’ and I mumbled something that was not even English, I think.

I swore she smiled briefly, but I couldn’t look her straight in the face; I was too nervous. The bell rang, she said goodbye, and all I could mumble was something in gibberish again. What a dork I was.

I was considered a ‘bad boy’ at school, but I had good grades and played football. My problem was simple: my parents ditched me with my aunt, and she never had kids of her own, so raising me was something new for her. I had a bit of angst, okay, a whole lot of angst about the whole situation.

For the previous two years, it was just me and her. It was teenage anger and hurt and other emotions all wrapped up into one about being basically discarded by my parents that made me rebel. It was Sara who helped me realize this.

It was complicated for my aunt and I.

At home that night, I kept thinking about Sara as I did my homework, which is weird for a so-called hoodlum to do, homework that is. I could not get her off my mind, though.

My aunt trained horses, and she did very well for herself. We had a nice home on seven acres, all backed by a large mountain with large pine trees that seemed to never let the light through to the forest floor. I never went up there until I met Sara, and that is when things started getting weird.

Screeches and Howling

A few days passed, and I found myself sitting alone for lunch. That did not last long. A loud smack hit the table next to me, and before I could chime in on the jerk, I looked up, and my mouth almost released the half-chewed pizza in it.

It was Sara.

She said hello and asked to sit, and of course, I said yes in that weird gibberish. She found it cute. Words did find their way out of my mouth eventually; she seemed to draw them out of me. I was telling her my life story before I even realized I was doing so.

She seemed sad about my parents ditching me. I told her that my aunt was actually doing a great job with me, but sometimes, well, I lashed out. The last time I did, I was suspended for a week last year.

She shared about her parents selling their business in Arizona for a life-altering sum. Her mom was born in Oregon and always wanted to move back home. So they did.

What really got my attention was where in town she lived. As luck would have it, again, her parents had purchased the home down the road from my aunt’s house.

That night, like the previous three, I was on cloud nine. I kicked back on my bed pretty early; it was still warm outside, even at night. As I laid there, I finally realized that a sound I was hearing was not coming from the baseball game on my radio.

From outside my window came a weird, long, and, well, a very creepy howl. It actually gave me goosebumps. I thought it might be the wind blowing through the barn or other outbuildings; there were three buildings adjacent to the barn.

I sat up and listened intently. Again, a long, deep howl found its way through my window that night. It was the last one for the evening, but it seemed extremely eerie, even a bit lonely sounding. Either way, it creeped me out.

I didn’t tell my aunt that the next morning, not because I didn’t want to, I would have, but I had that girl on my mind, and I would see her at school.

Friday came, and things with Sara were becoming interesting. It was the way she always found me between classes, sat by me at lunch, or watched me at football practice that I could tell we were more than friends. It was as if we were dating, but nobody told me.

That evening, my aunt noticed my smile, and when she asked me to do something, I immediately obeyed. That was not always me; usually, I had to be asked two or three times. The lightbulb went off in her head as I washed the dishes.

She straight-up asked me, “What’s her name?”

I said, “Sara,” and she left it at that.  She smiled at me, patted my back, and headed off to bed. I was going to do the same after all the dishes and counters were cleaned, and the trash was taken out.

I stepped off the back porch and headed over to the large, green garbage receptacle. As I dropped the garbage in, I almost dropped the heavy lid on my fingers! The screeching was so loud, so intense, my heart felt like it stopped for the briefest of seconds.

It came from beyond the field, out near the foot of the mountain. I have heard mountain lions before; this was not that. This was higher-pitched, with a deeper undertone to it as it trailed off.

It was spookier than the howling I’d heard just days ago. I noticed the horses in the barn were moving around their stables, as if they were nervous or frightened. I was too after that third screech from Hades came bursting through my ears and chest; it had me wanting to run back to the house and not look back!

But my aunt always told me that you should never run when there is a wild animal around, as it only makes them more agitated or, worse yet, excited. I turned and walked briskly back to the house.

My aunt was fast asleep and heard nothing. This time, however, in the morning, I would remember to tell her about the screeching and the howling, for sure.

But I forgot, again. Teenage love can do that to you.

Dead Cow

I told Sara on Monday about the sounds. She also thought it was strange. What really surprised me was the fact that she overheard her dad and mom talking about the screeching they had heard the previous Friday night, too.

She lived about a hundred hundred yards, give or take, down the road from us. Whatever made those crazy-scary sounds must have a set of lungs like no other, we thought.

A couple of weeks passed, and no strange and creepy sounds came from the mountain. Sara and I were dating, and so far, I had three pick-offs in two games. I had two teachers also commend me on my behavior of late, even the principal smiled at me once as we passed in the main hall.

I was enjoying it all.

I met Sara’s parents, and they were okay with our hanging out together. My aunt thought she was the sweetest girl in the world, and had her over to dinner on Saturdays.

We would walk around the property, and I took her on horseback one evening. Dinner was running late, so my aunt said we could take Billy out for a ride. Billy was a beautiful black and white Appaloosa.

Sara had never been on a horse. So, I saddled him up, and off we went. After about twenty minutes around the field and over by the pond, I took us over towards the foot of the mountain.

Up to that point, it was a great ride, but suddenly, Billy came to an abrupt halt and whinnied. He was spooked by something. I settled him down and made sure Sara was okay. I tried to get him moving forward, but he would not budge. He was not going to move any closer the woods.

We decided to follow the fence all the way around the fields. It was still a great ride, but looking back, that should have been a major warning for us.

We ate dinner with my aunt, and we drove her home. It was a great evening, it was a great first date!

On Sunday, I was out working with my aunt, taking care of a few horses and cleaning their stalls. It was nearly noon when Sara came walking around the corner of the house and straight to the barn.

She had a look and expression on her face I had not seen before. She looked worried and sad.

My aunt and I dropped everything and ran over to her. We sat down for some hot cocoa on the back porch as she explained what she and her parents witnessed that morning. Their cow was dead.

Her mother went out to check on the hay for their, what I assumed was more of a pet as they did not raise cattle. When she came out to the fence, she noticed the cow was on the ground, and worse than that, it was totally ripped apart.

Extremities were missing, its innards gone. The neck looked as though it had been snapped as it was twisted almost completely around. What could do that, we had no idea.

Her parents automatically assumed a cougar or a bear. Personally, my aunt and I knew better than that. A broken neck twisted like that was not how a mountain lion took down a large animal, nor could it do such a thing; at least we never heard of that happening before.

Sara was visibly upset. Her parents, she mentioned, had called the authorities, and they were at the house at that moment. She liked that cow; for Sara, it was a pet. We hung out the rest of the day. We took a long horse ride around the property, and took a little lunch with us.

We shared our first kiss, by the way.

Mystery Mountain.

It was early November. Sara’s parents purchased another cow. My aunt had made their acquaintance, and a friendship bloomed for all of them. She even had them over for dinner and a ride on a couple of horses.

The cow experience was all but a memory. However, the sounds coming from the mountain and the fields that surrounded us seemed to have ramped up. The nights of mid-autumn were becoming rather intense.

My aunt did notice the horses acting more peculiar. They seemed nervous and even agitated on some days. Riding them became a chore, especially when we took them anywhere near that mountain.

Football season was over, so Sara and I had more time together. It became almost a ritual for us to do homework together, either at her house or mine.

One night, I was walking home. I chose to walk the edge of the fields instead of the road for safety purposes, of course. It was really dark, and the clouds were heavy, and no moonlight seemed to pierce them.

By the time I was halfway home, I got this real uneasy feeling. It felt like something was there, just beyond my view. The only light that I had came from a few street lights that ended not too far past Sara’s house.

I stopped for a few seconds and looked around me. I could see nothing but porch lights and windows lit up from the homes that dotted the landscape. Still, that feeling stayed with me as I continued my walk home.

I was within view of the streetlight in front of my house when I heard it. It was a thunderous sound of something running through the field in the dark. It was heavy, whatever it was. I started walking faster, but not running, and kept my eyes peeled in the direction of the fields.

When I reached the gate to my backyard, I practically stumbled out of fear. That screeching-like scream thundered right through me. Whatever it was had to be no more than a football field’s length from me.

I stumbled into the house and told my aunt everything. She was groggy because she had fallen asleep on the couch, but together we went out to check the horses and take a look around. Nothing. No sounds, no running, not a thing was heard.

The next morning was a Saturday. I woke early and decided to take a look around the field for any signs of what it could have been running through them in the night. What I found were impressions, a long line of them.

They led from about fifty yards or so from our barn and made their way over to the foot of that mountain. The impressions were long, at least sixteen inches or so. They literally flattened the grass, but there were no signs of toes, or hooves, or paws.

My aunt was gone, but Sara showed up while I was out there. Together, we kept trying to figure out what could have made these, well, tracks. Whatever it was, it was on two legs we could tell. This had us talking all day.

When you are in love when you are young, you seem to throw caution to the wind. You lose some of that common sense the good Lord has given us, too. We did, and what a mistake that was! It almost cost us our lives, I believe.

Thanksgiving was five days away. Sara was going to Arizona to visit her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and all her cousins. We wanted to spend a little more time together before she left, so we decided to sneak off one evening.

I mean, we were going to sneak out of our houses and meet up.

The plan was set. Sunday night, we meet in the field, then head up the mountain for some time alone without the prying eyes of parents and aunts. It was a great plan. At least we thought it was.

It was a full moon. Not a cloud in the sky. The stars seemed to twinkle a bit brighter that night. The mountain stood like an altar against the universe.

We were being bad. This was not something we asked permission to do. We wanted time alone, that was all. Still, being young and in love does not excuse bad behavior. But we were in love, and that is a power that can make you break the rules if you are not careful.

Sara met me behind the barn. It was pretty cold that night, but we were dressed warmly. I pulled out my flashlight and looked back at the house to make sure my aunt was not awake. No lights were on; it was go time!

Even with a full moon, the field was hard to traverse. It took us a lot longer than usual to make it to the bottom of the mountain. I helped Sara climb over the fence, then I followed suit. Then, we disappeared into the treeline.

There was a trail there. It was at least six feet or so wide. My aunt used to go up there with the horses a long time ago. Here and there, a small tree was lying across it.  We would hop over them and continue up the mountainside.

There were no thoughts about howling, shrieks, or screams in our heads; we were pretty focused on the moment. We were focused on each other. I can’t tell you how good she made me feel about myself; the changes I’d seen in myself, my manners, and even my outlook on life had changed.

I led the way until we were nearly to the top. There was a flat open area, well, as flat as the side of a mountain could be, at least. Here, I took the blanket out of my backpack and laid it down for us.

We lay back, clasped our hands together, and stared up into the heavens. Of course, we were teenagers and in love, so a few kisses were exchanged. But mostly, we just stared at the stars and each other, and talked through the night.

It was nearly midnight when we heard something moving in the brush to our left. At first, we could hear what sounded like sticks or small limbs cracking. We both sat up quickly. Then, we heard footsteps coming from the right.

I stood up, flashlight in hand, scanning the woods. I could not see a thing past a few feet in that thick forest. As we looked right, though, it stopped. Then, from the left came footsteps and the cracking of twigs and brush underfoot.

I turned my flashlight in that direction, and again, the footsteps stopped. Then, yes, you got it, the footsteps started up from the right side, again.

There were two somethings on either side of us, and it seemed they were intent on coming closer and closer to us. I shouted to let whatever or whomever they were that people were present. But again, if we looked left, then from the right came these heavy footsteps.

Sara was holding my arm so tight that it was losing feeling. Suddenly, she was all that mattered. Her safety, not my own, was all I cared about. As these things moved closer, it was time to move, and now!

I told Sara that I wanted her to stay in front of me and start walking quickly down the trail. She did exactly what I told her. We hit the trail, and down the mountainside we fled. Unfortunately, so did these two things; they were paralleling us, not twenty yards off the trail, one on each side of us.

I could hear Sara almost whimpering between breaths as we moved along down the trail. I kept telling her we would be okay, even though, deep down inside, I was not sure if that was absolutely true.

We were about halfway down when I heard Sara cry out in pain. She had hit one of the trees lying across the trail pretty hard and tumbled a few feet past it. I quickly picked her up off the ground.

She was okay, she said, and might have a nasty bruise and some scrapes, but she was good to go, and boy, was she! She started moving like a professional speed walker.

These things kept up with us with ease, and they had no flashlights in that pitch black forest, so I knew they were probably not human. Not to mention, the footfall was heavy and loud!

Sara kept asking me what they were; my answer did not help. Bigfoot, that was the only reasonable answer I could come up with. Cougar, wolves, and even black bears do not walk and sprint on two legs, and something bipedal is what we were hearing.

Before we reached the bottom of the mountain, these two things started moving closer to the trail, and they started, well, communicating, I think.

It was a brief burst of whoops and a barking sound. It would come and go.

Just as I thought we were getting close to the end of the trail, I took a spill myself, and a bad one. My ankle made a weird noise, for sure. Sara helped me back up, but it hurt horribly. My limp was slowing us down, and these things were getting closer!

I was scared, but not for me. I wanted Sara out of there, and now! The closer they came to us, the more I wanted to tell her to run and never stop until she made it home. Then, I did.

She refused the idea before I could even finish my thought. Then it hit me. My backpack! I told her to stop walking for a moment. The look on her face told me she thought I was crazy.

I reached into my backpack and yes! There it was, a small strip of firecrackers left over from the 4th of July! My lighter was there too. As these things came even closer, I shone my lights into the trees.

Red eyes from the pit of H-E-double-hockey-sticks were staring back at us. These things were not small either. Those eyes had to be at least eight or nine feet up off the ground. I was right, Bigfoots, two of them were chasing us down a mountain!

I finally lit the little fuse and threw it just in back of us. I jumped up and off we went, limping and scared.

Crack! Crack! Crack! The fireworks went off. I was hoping for a longer strand, but that seemed to work. Those two bigfoots stopped walking immediately. One of them let out a whoop that actually sounded scared, or at least surprised.

By the time they started following us again, we were already over the fence and in the field. I shone my light again into the woods behind us. There they were, two very large shadows with red eyes, standing at the bottom of the mountain.

We turned and ran for the house. We made it! That hug we shared lasted forever, and the kiss, too.

I walked her home, but this time, along the road.

Goodbye…

I can’t tell you what they looked like exactly, other than the fact that the silhouette of these two things looked like the same silhouette as a Bigfoot in pictures and posters. Two legs, tall, and the reddest, most menacing eyes I’d ever seen.

Senior year, I was sitting on the football field all by myself. It was June, the last day of school. I had graduated, and with a very high GPA to boot.

It was all thanks to Sara, though; she kept me focused on school, on my new faith, and my future. I wished she were with me at that moment.

Sara passed away in a car crash at the end of our junior year. Her mom was gone as well in the same accident.

Her dad, even today, a decade and a half later, still keeps in touch with me from time to time. My aunt is a great aunt today. I finished college, got married, and moved to Florida.

We also just had our first baby, a girl. Her name is Sara.

That is my story, thanks,

Brandon.