Multiple Witnesses

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.

In the winter of 1987, an 11-to-13-year-old native youth named Joseph gained permission to drive his father's Arctic Cat Jag snowmachine, leading his two younger brothers (ages nine and seven) on a Yamaha Bravo 340 into the remote tundra islands west of Sophie's Landing along the Nushagak River. Armed with a heavy 8mm rifle and two .22s to harvest small game, the boys successfully dispatched a porcupine on an oblong island of black spruce trees. While processing the harvest, a dense, blinding winter sea fog rolled in rapidly off Bristol Bay.

Three winters prior to 2022, a small construction company owner named Clint treated three of his laborers to a week-long snowmachining vacation near Paxson and the Denali Highway after completing a major renovation project ahead of schedule. While riding near a remote mountain creek drainage feeding a lake just west of the Richardson Highway junction, an 800 RMK snowmachine slipped its track. Due to severe winds and lack of towing gear, the party piled snow over the chassis to stash it overnight.

While salmon fishing along a secluded bank of the Russian River on the Kenai Peninsula, a local angler named Brandon and his two out-of-state college friends noted a series of unusual disturbances across the water. While practicing his fly-casting loops, Brandon first spotted a patch of vibrant, chimpanzee-like red hair moving through the opposite brush line, which he initially joked was a fellow redhead angler.

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.

While managing a salmon subsistence set-net site on the Wood River drainage above Dillingham near the McClung River mouth, a man named Keith, his wife Danielle, and their three young children (ages twelve, nine, and five) were targeted by an unusually bold entity. While stacking gear and mending twine on the riverbank, Keith's 12-year-old daughter pointed out a 'man' inside the 12-foot shoreline willow brush who was actively waving and smiling at her. Keith investigated with a shotgun, firing a warning blast into the air to deter what he assumed was a routine bear.

During a winter backcountry snowmachining excursion, a group of four friends staged out of Trappers Creek to boondock through fresh, deep powder fields. Navigating individual routes using personal GPS trackers, George paused his 700 RMK snowmachine on a segment of packed ground to safely fill his engine with a spare gas can. While refueling, he noted an immense dark form executing high-speed maneuvers through a thick tree line several hundred yards back.

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.

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.

In an on-site field interview conducted north of Willow along the Deception Creek trail system, a lifelong Alaskan outdoorsman named Ryan walked the channel researcher through a highly strategic, dual-creature stalking encounter. While tracking a game trail leading past a localized swamp clearing at dusk, Ryan's two highly trained dogs—Keen and Brutus—suddenly locked up with their hackles completely raised. A massive unseen presence began heavily pacing and paralleling Ryan's route through a dense thicket of tall willow and alder brush just 20 to 25 yards away.

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.

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.

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 a village panel recording, a Dillingham-born Yup'ik woman named Hillary detailed the traditional, generational safeguards and encounters surrounding the communities of the Nushagak River drainage, including Ekwok, Portage Creek, Stuyahok, and New Koliganek. Raised under strict elders' warnings that stepping into the dark sloughs or river bluffs would cause children to be abducted or eaten by the 'hairy man,' Hillary noted that the presence of inverted, root-up spruce tree markers cleanly jammed into the soil was a routine sight in the region.