These shares involve grunting, growling, and heavy non-human vocalizations—sounds witnesses describe as animal-like but wrong for known wildlife.
Common threads are close-range audio, fear at night, and animals or people reacting to the sound. Browse these shares if you want growls and grunts at the center of the story.
Two years prior to 2022, newlyweds Josh and Bridget spent a week-long honeymoon clearing brush at a remote family cabin located just outside the boundaries of Lake Clark National Park and Preserve. On their third night, under the dense canopy of land of the midnight sun twilight, a relentless owl hoot at an abnormal, highly repetitive cadence caught their attention. Suspecting a trapped bird, Josh armed himself with a .45 Auto pistol and took an 800-lumen flashlight to investigate the 30-yard cleared perimeter with Bridget.
In the early-to-mid 1990s, a Bristol Bay native named David spent weeks alone at his grandfather's (Uppa's) cabin situated on the West Channel of the Nushagak River near Keeper Cutoff, due west of Portage Creek. While constructing a log generator shed, David was pelted by pine cones and endured three consecutive nights of heavy thumping on the cabin roof, later clearing off large clumps of uprooted grass and soil with a dip-net pole under the assumption that his brother was playing a prank.
Three years prior to 2022, two finance professionals from São Paulo, Brazil, named Louis and Franco, embarked on a high-priced guided wolf and bear combo hunt on the outskirts of the Katmai Wildlife Refuge down on the Alaska Peninsula. Operating from a remote spike camp carefully hacked out inside a ten-foot radius of thick willow shrubs to shield from heavy winds, the hunters hiked up a treacherous switchback path onto an adjacent high mountain shelf to glass a major north-south river clearing.
Jonathan, a 30-year resident of a remote forested property situated within the Wasilla-Willow corridor, was ambushed by a pair of massive Sasquatch entities while executing nighttime supply runs from his vehicle to his cabin. Transporting an awkward bulk package of Costco toilet paper balanced on his left shoulder, Jonathan heard heavy brush-crashing seamlessly parallel his step just feet away inside the pitch-black thicket. Hit by an unprecedented wave of absolute dread, he left the package on the trail and retreated to secure a 10mm Glock pistol.
In the 1980s, lifelong outdoorsmen Spencer and Max returned to a remote, reverse-Z-shaped muskeg swamp line near the boundary of Denali National Park, ten years after discovering an abandoned camp layout and enduring anomalous mimicry whistles and gibberish vocalizations in their youth. Operating a high-speed Honda 250R three-wheeler, Spencer hopped off the rear rack to escape exhaust fumes, walking the spongy moss edge while Max opened the throttle down a 3-mile valley trail.
During a spring bear hunt expedition, a veteran Alaskan bush pilot named Buck flew two out-of-state hunters to a remote base camp east of Salcha. Left with an hour of free fuel time, Buck puddle-jumped his Piper Cub onto a nearby open tundra ridge flanked by a sparse black spruce tree line and large old-growth timber stands. Encountering an uncanny, absolute silence upon stepping out of his cockpit, Buck slung a .454 Casull revolver on his chest and hiked 500 yards out into a tundra berry patch to engage in wildlife photography.
Around 2014, two brothers, Kyle and his younger sibling (spaced less than two years apart), were foraging wild berries along a remote backcountry trail roughly a mile and a half deep from any actual road system on the outskirts of Fairbanks. After picking berries, they detected an unsettling, low-frequency 'grumbling' acoustic pattern that seemed completely constant and unceasing within the thicket, prompting them to pack their buckets.
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.
Around 2012, a native villager and his hunting partner portaged their skiff across an ice-overflow gravel ridge into Henry Slough, a specialized secondary channel of the Nushagak River located just south of New Stuyahok. Spotting a bull moose over a mud-and-grass cutbank, the men anchored the skiff using a concrete stake and initiated a silent layout stalk through the alders. While tracking the antlers, an interactive clacking sound erupted from multiple directions, which they mistook for a competing bull.
In an extensive panel interview, a mainland native resident named Mike detailed the profound oral histories and recent close-range encounters on a remote, windswept island in the Bering Sea. Mike's grandfather (born in 1904) maintained historical accounts of a rogue 'hairy man' who systematically abducted and consumed disobedient village children caught out past dark, culminating in a historic campaign where a local shaman tracked and dispatched an entity, slicing open its stomach to recover nine hairless, amnesiac children.
Around 2019, a first nations hunter named Jack and his less-experienced partner, Eric, executed a remote catch-and-release style caribou hunt via single-man kayaks, launching from the Maclaren River bridge off the Denali Highway down to the Tyone Creek confluence. After pitching pop-up tents on the river's west bank, they awoke to an absolute, deafening silence that dropped over the tundra canopy. Proceeding on foot down a game trail through heavy morning fog, Eric spotted an edge-of-vision dark shadow tracking them.
A share from Rick, who had an encounter while on a four-day backpacking trip to spread ashes of his mother in a mountain range in the Yukon that she loved. On the first night of his camp, Sasquatches began to try to smother his campfire while he stepped away to take a leak. He saw someone moving in the trees and thought it was a person. He shot into the air, and as his ears were ringing, he saw the Sasquatch standing behind the tree about 30 feet away. When he shot again, he heard two sets of footsteps running away.
Ten years prior to 2022, two brothers, Jim and James, began constructing a remote 5-acre cabin cabin in the interior of Alaska, south of Fairbanks and north of Wasilla. During the building phase, they experienced recurring bear-like encroachments, forcing them to adopt a hyper-vigilant 'two-person always' security protocol. While James was left alone at the cabin to overnight, he began hearing a persistent 'click-click' sound originating from the walls of the windowless log shell.
Approximately 20 years ago, a couple named Margaret and Kyle were foraging for wild berries along a remote muskeg slough near the Alphabet Mountains, south of the Denali Highway. While separated by 100 feet to maximize coverage, Margaret heard a deep, guttural grunt; assuming it was her husband, she called out until she caught sight of a massive, dark movement through the alder brush that did not correspond to her husband's location.
Two friends flew into Platinum to spend the day and encountered a sasquatch in the open tundra and chased them back to their plane.
Also a brief share from Walt who encountered a sasquatch on his property about ten years ago.
