These shares involve vehicles hit or struck—cars, trucks, and RVs that take a blow, rock, or impact witnesses link to something outside ordinary road hazards.
Common threads are roadside or trail-edge contact, damage, and fear of something large and deliberate. Browse these shares if you want vehicle-impact stories, not only distant sightings.
This account details an encounter from a husband and wife team, Doug and Marty, who were traveling toward McCarthy along the Copper River Valley's notorious McCarthy Road. After suffering an electrical failure in their RV, they pulled over for roadside repairs. While the husband worked on the vehicle, the wife prepared a meal inside.
In the 1980s, an Alaskan homesteader named Ralph was prepping a remote property near the northern side of Hatcher Pass. He parked a small travel trailer on a temporary timber dunnage foundation during breakup, which caused the trailer to sink into the thawing muck and settle at an awkward, elevated angle. While working alone to set up a water pump system, Ralph was subjected to a terrifying siege.
Blake and Riley were harassed by a hairy man while camping during an RV trip for their 5th wedding anniversary.
First, I give a quick update on Miss Carol, who lives in the Copper River Valley. Next, a share from Jeff who had a flat tire off the side of the road in August of 2019 when he found himself having to deal with a hairy man.
Around March 2023, an outdoorsman in his early 60s named Hank was walking his black Labrador retriever along a remote shoreline within the Prince William Sound region. Two miles into the beach walk, Hank discovered a large, fresh pile of shellfish and clams that had all been freshly broken open, accompanied by massive, ambiguous depressions in the sand and gravel. Turning back as the sun began to set, the dog suddenly exhibited unprecedented behavior, running in frantic looping circles and barking wildly into the air.
In late August, a long-distance runner named Russell Bradshaw traveled to the Denali Highway near the MacLaren River to support a caribou hunting group, opting to stay behind in a rental RV. During his routine morning jog toward Paxson, Russell paused about two miles out to observe a flock of ptarmigan get startled from a 50-yard willow slough. Dropping into an S-curve washout, he spotted what he assumed was a large black bear stalking the birds through the six-to-eight-foot tall brush.
A couple named Isaac and Marcy, along with their yellow lab Jesse, reserved a remote day cabin near Lynx Lake within the Nancy Lake State Recreation Area between Big Lake and Willow. While hiking an un-frozen shoreline trail during the autumn season, a sudden, absolute silence dropped over the forest canopy, prompting Isaac to prudently turn the party back out of bear caution.
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.
Two years prior to 2022, a couple named Jesse and Monica purchased an uncompleted 10x12 Caribou cabin kit on the outskirts of Fairbanks to insulate and use as a rural starter house. Located a half-mile down a private driveway off the main road, the site was surrounded by dense, un-cleared timber and willow thickets. While setting up a wood stove on a weekend visit during a light autumn snow dusting, the couple began hearing a loud, exceptionally crisp, and snappy 'clicking' noise that occurred at a strict, regular cadence of every two to three seconds.
While house-sitting a rural property north of Glennallen along the Richardson Highway to protect against localized equipment theft, a married couple named John and Betty jackknifed their 16-foot fifth-wheel trailer across the driveway entrance, placing their camper a mere 100 feet off the primary asphalt road. While returning to the rig at dusk after utilizing an outdoor fire pit behind the main house, they were unsettled by a low, non-animal gurgling throat-clear emerging from the foliage.
While traveling along a remote stretch of the Taylor Highway near the Mosquito Fork bridge of the Fortymile River, north of the Tok junction, an out-of-state family—parents Walter and Bernice, and their adult college-graduate son Michael—experienced an unprecedented multi-creature encounter. Approaching the bridge clearance zone at a 300-yard distance, they observed three colossal figures walking single-file across the asphalt road.
