These shares involve imitation of animal sounds—howls, bird calls, or other wildlife mimicry that witnesses believe is not the real animal.
Common threads are audio deception, confusion in the dark, and experienced outdoors people who know the real calls. Browse these shares if you want mimicry of animals, not human speech.
Bush pilot Daniel, inspired by Craig's share from the previous post, decided to share his experience with he and his friend Christopher, which took place before Craig's encounter. Daniel's experience was much different than Craig's.
Around late July in 2017 or 2018, a group of four friends from Colorado—Billy, Chuck, Dennis, and Maria—set up a large two-room blackout tent on a gravel wash in Rainbow Basin, situated at the northwestern corner of Lake Nerka within Wood-Tikchik State Park. After encountering deep, sub-audible grunts that physically vibrated their folding chairs and a series of sharp, crisp whistles that closely shadowed Dennis and Maria during a walk, the group constructed a wide 50-foot perimeter using fine fishing lines rigged with 12-gauge shotgun shell proximity alarms.
An Ahtna tribally enrolled woman named Mary recalled a profound historical account from her childhood in Chitina during the early 1970s, where a village elder shared an encounter from his youth on the eastern side of the Copper River. While hunting deep inland on an open flat situated directly above Horse Creek, the hunting party experienced an intense, creepy atmospheric dread and followed a strange chattering sound up a ridge line.
Beginning in December 2015, a resident named Sally endured ongoing seasonal Sasquatch activity at her rental home situated roughly 75 feet off the Delta Clearwater River bank in Alaska's interior, noting that events consistently peaked in April and autumn. While relaxing with her boyfriend in an outdoor hot tub on a small knoll 25 feet from the structure in -10°F weather, a massive multi-octave shriek-whistle erupted from the river slough, immediately accompanied by a heavy rock thrown forcefully against the hot tub's framework.
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.
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.
An experienced interior wilderness trapper with twenty years on the Kuskokwim River drainage abruptly terminated his business after a terrifying multi-day encounter loop. While running his 10-mile oval line on a Skidoo Tundra snowmachine, he discovered several traps systematically sprung with zero target catches; strangely, the surrounding snowpack had been meticulously scrubbed with fresh spruce boughs to purposefully erase any track marks.
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.
In the 1990s, a Bristol Bay native named Joseph was left alone to overnight inside an unfinished, windowless log cabin frame under construction on the west bank of the Nushagak River, roughly 40 feet from a steep riverbank cut. After executing a secure, bear-aware camp cleanup, Joseph heard an anomalous, interactive series of 'imitation wolf howls' echoing from several miles deep in the timber line. Sitting on the entrance logs at dusk, a severe 'glass-dome' silence enveloped the tree line, and the vocalizations re-emerged less than 200 yards out.
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.
In the late 1970s, retired oilfield worker Johnathan and his then-wife were travelling down the AlCan Highway in their RV and decided to pull over at a rest stop, where a Sasquatch began to open the roof and reach into the vehicle. With is wife hiding under the bed, Johnathan began to look for his machete to hack at the arm. After a loud whistle in the distance, the Sasquatch attacking the RV stopped and left, along with footsteps of others who were also outside.
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.
Jim and his neighbor on the Kenai Peninsula thought the other was causing problems on the other's property until they saw the Sasquatch about 3 weeks ago. About a week after the sighting, outside Jim's house, it mimicked a meow that was unique to his cat that died the previous year.
Thomas shares the rest of his experiences that occurred in 1970 in Kaltag. He also gives some very important words of wisdom.
Thomas shared this with me in 1997 and again the other day. This is part 1 of 3, and my next 2 will be the continuing of the 3 killed in 10 years "series". This first incident happened in 1961.
