Equipment Attack, Damage, or Theft

While navigating the Nushagak River near Henry Slough (just south of New Stuyahok) roughly ten years ago, two hunters portaged their skiff into a narrow, muddy backchannel to scout for moose. After successfully dropping a massive bull with a single shot from the bank, the hunters sat down for a celebratory cigarette before the grueling task of field dressing it. Their break was interrupted by a deep, guttural grunt echoing from the nearby willows. Believing it was a second, agitated bull moose, the hunters crept closer, hoping to drop a second animal and save themselves an extra trip.

A native resident named Mike joins Fred to share personal encounters and ancestral accounts passed down from his grandfather on a remote, treeless island in the Bering Sea. His grandfather recounted an ancient tribal incident where a rogue hairy man stole nine village children before being tracked and killed by a shaman. Beyond the hairy man lore, Mike details widespread modern encounters with the "little people"—powerful, elusive beings whose tiny footprints frequently appear around village homes, stolen dry-meat racks, and out onto the Bering Sea sea ice.

A husband and wife, John and Betty, agreed to house-sit for close family friends along the highway north to Fairbanks. To deter local equipment thieves while their friends were away, the couple parked their fifth-wheel camper jackknifed across the driveway. After spending a quiet evening by an outdoor fire pit behind the house, they were walking back to the camper when they heard a bizarre, guttural gurgling sound coming from the darkness.

A family vacation took a terrifying turn when Walter, Bernice, and their adult son Michael were towing a 16-foot toy hauler up the remote Taylor Highway. Approaching the bridge over the Mosquito Fork of the 40-Mile River, they spotted three massive figures crossing the road ahead. Initially mistaking them for fly fishermen dragging rod tubes, the family was shocked to realize the figures were nearly nine feet tall—and appeared to have thick, four-foot-long tails.

In 1978, Eric and two friends from the Tongass National Forest cruiser team took their two-week leave to camp and explore the pristine wilderness around Powers Creek, located in the ominous Tracy Arm-Fords Terror Wilderness of Southeast Alaska. On their second day, the peacefulness of their trip was shattered by a hellacious scream originating further down the Endicott Arm inlet. Dismissing it at first, the three unarmed men returned to camp to find their belongings strangely shifted and toyed with.

Two shares, the first a retired fish and game biologist that had an experience ten years ago off the Mulchatna river while gathering data on salmon with three others, where they realized what they at first thought was a person exiting the freezing cold river was a Sasquatch they estimated to be over 10'.  They later met up with a group of observers who didn't believe them at first, but did later after they had an encounter, topped off with screams.  When both groups tried to relay their experiences to a fish and game trooper, they fell on deaf ears.

Chad, a cyclist who'd over the years travel to Alaska for a long-distance cycling event, became a recipient of typical Alaskan Sasquatch behavior while setting up a camp to take a break during his trip a few miles north of Trapper Creek.

John, a long-time trapper, had to cut short his trapping season once he realized what was stealing from his traps. As he decided to hunker down at his remote cabin until his resupply plane came through, he was surrounded by three Sasquatches attempting to intimidate him. They failed and John instead went on offense.

Stranded and broke on Prince of Wales Island after being denied logging work in 1961, Thomas and his two friends set up a survival camp in the towering old-growth timber of the Tongass National Forest. Their desperation deepened when a massive arm reached from behind a tree, ripped down the rope holding their freshly hunted black-tailed deer, and vanished into the 200-foot canopy above. Upon returning from a day-labor job the next evening, they found a towering entity rummaging through their camp before it effortlessly scrambled up a massive Douglas fir.

Back in the late 1980s, a land surveyor was hired to plot a large private subdivision in the dense wilderness just west of the Parks Highway, north of Talkeetna. Working alone with an old-school transit scope, his first morning on the job turned bizarre when he spotted a towering, neckless humanoid silhouette pacing behind the willows.

A veteran 92-year-old trapper recounts a terrifying ordeal from the twilight of his trapping career in 1984, northeast of Bethel in the remote Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta. Relying on an isolated backup cabin he typically avoided due to eerie sounds in the distance, his trapping season began smoothly—until he discovered his newly set wolverine traps repeatedly sprung and empty, reeking of a potent, musty ammonia odor.

Ron shared his experience of a terrifying encounter on a camping trip with his young daughter that occurred south of the Denali Highway. Please note, this is one of several shares where I had audio issues.

This encounter involved a trio on the Yentna River at the end of caribou hunting season in 2019 while trout fishing.

I share an experience by a photographer from June of 1999 at Nuyakuk Falls.  He no longer does photography in Bristol Bay.

I share an encounter I had with a hunting guide and his client who was looking to bag a Hairy Man after an experience he had years prior. Spoiler alert: he changed his mind.