These shares involve berry picking and berry scouting in tundra, river country, and roadside patches—family outings and seasonal harvests that take a dark turn.
Common threads are open country, berry patches near timber or water, and groups (often family) who came for food and left with a story. Browse these shares if you want encounters tied to gathering, not only hunting or camping.
In the early 1960s, siblings Agnes and Dean ventured upriver from Portage Creek near the Nushagak River to scout for berry patches. Their day took a dark turn when they witnessed a bull moose abruptly stand up and flee toward them, banking hard to avoid something pursuing it from the brush. A moment later, they heard an echoing, guttural 'elephant seal-like' grunt from the dense willows.
Multiple reports from ongoing activity in remote Alaska.
Out with Issac at the spot where we saw the tracks last year.
A share from Beverly who was with her sister, her two year-old son, and her sister's two teenagers who were picking berries.
Twenty years ago, Sabrina and her aunt were scouting for a berry picking spot off the Denali Highway when they had an odd experience where they lost track of direction and distance. Sabrina never picked berries again since this experience.
Also, another brief share from Scott, who reached out to me to warn about an incident by Lynx Lake while fishing in a canoe when he saw a stream of bubbles pass by when something that looked like a caveman popped up out of the water.
A share from Judy, now an elder, of an incident that took place in 1996 during a hunting party with five family members.
Kelly shares a story from 1960 during a picnic with her aunt, uncle, and cousin while looking for berries to pick. She and her cousin interfered with a sasquatch's hunt of caribou.
Thomas shared his experience with Molly off the Kuskowkim River while building a house over several seasons.
I have a phone interview with William who lived in Alaska for nineteen years. He shares his brief experience from 2013 in Butte, and a recount from his mother-in-law, where a sasquatch was peeking in her window.
Also, a share from Cynthia, who lives in the same area of the Kuskokwim River as the berry pickers from the previous video, shares a brief experience she had ten years ago while picking berries with her grandmother.
Share from some ladies who were picking berries near the Kuskokwim River.
A share from Tina who had an experience while home from college and tasked with watching her cousins and some other kids for her grandmother, who was out of town for a doctor's visit. While berry picking with the children, she saw a sasquatch watching them, prompting her to usher the kids back home.
It followed them home and terrorized her and the kids until help arrived.
An experience shared by an Ahtna Elder named Agatha recalls her childhood near Horse Creek, where her family routinely heard distant screams while berry picking. She also recounted an incident at their fish camp when her uncle and brother-in-law found their fish wheel intentionally jammed with a large log. While working to clear it, they heard whistling from the shore and turned to find a hairy man crouching on the bank. After shouting at it, the brother-in-law fired a shot into the air, causing the entity and two other unseen companions to crash away through the brush.
In the early fall in a remote, unspecified Alaskan village, an early-20s woman named Shiloh and her young female cousin take a four-wheeler out into the wide-open tundra to scout local berry patches. While traveling along a horseshoe-shaped trail roughly a mile from the nearest tree line, they spot a hulking, nine-foot-tall figure standing about 50 yards away. The creature begins gently gesturing toward them, casting an immediate psychological trance over Shiloh.
During the historic gold rush era around 1898, an expedition consisting of six men—Austrian-German prospectors Fritz and Johann, two young greenhorn laborers from St. Louis, Missouri, and two Gwich'in Indian guides—traveled into the remote interior near the southwest slopes of the Beaver Mountains along modern-day Billy Goat Creek. After two weeks of constructing a windowless log cabin to support a multi-year gold panning operation, the two Gwich'in guides went berry picking along the mountain slopes.
Some thirty years prior to 2023, a Bristol Bay native woman named Julie experienced an encounter as a young girl during a combined moose hunting and salmonberry harvesting trip up the Kvichak River channel with her grandfather (Uppa), father, and uncle. Landing early before sunrise, Julie and her Uppa combed the tundra slopes for blueberries and blackberries.
In the autumn of 2011, a Yup'ik villager named Vincent Wasley, his sister Grace, and a cousin traveled by skiff up the Kayugajak Lake River system near Nunapitchuk for a moose hunt. Stepping onto the riverbank, Vincent walked 200 feet onto the open tundra to forage a local berry patch, where he was suddenly halted by a colossal, booming cow-moose call imitation that echoed powerfully around the entire lakebed. Recognizing that the extreme acoustic volume and length exceeded human or animal capabilities, Vincent retreated to the skiff in shock.
