Around 2016, a seasonal cannery worker from Dillingham named Jesse utilized his week off to execute a solo catch-and-release silver salmon trek along Silver Salmon Creek, hiking from the Aleknagik Road culverts down to the Wood River mouth. Setting up an 8-inch skillet camp cookstove on a hard bank slough, Jesse heard a series of heavy 'woof' grunts that he initially attributed to a stray dog. While casting into a deep pool, an absolute silence dropped over the drainage, and Jesse spotted a large chocolate-brown mass crouching across the channel just 20 meters out. Returning to his spike camp, he discovered a series of massive humanlike footprint compressions pressed into the mud.
Horrifically, his cast-iron frying pan had been systematically picked through; giant finger impressions were clearly left behind in the congealed salmon oils where an entity had plucked out individual fish chunks. Assuming a cannery coworker was playing a prank, Jesse hacked out a secondary defensive cove six meters off a main game trail with a machete, loudly singing childhood traditional songs to deter predators. Within fifteen minutes, a heavy bipedal thudding cadence began marching directly toward his layout. Jesse abandoned his cookstove and stuffed his gear in panic.
Attempting to clear a boot snag on his path, a sudden, paralyzing fear locked him in his tracks; looking across the creek, he confronted a 9-foot-tall, neckless entity resembling an oversized Chewbacca with a long, old-man-style hair rough contouring its bare eyes and nose. Jesse called out a greeting, causing the entity to turn and heavily pace and parallel his high-speed flight on the opposite creek bank. Tripping near the asphalt margin, Jesse looked up to find the massive creature standing less than 20 feet away, gripping a tree trunk and staring directly down at him before a local law enforcement vehicle rescued him.
