Throwing Objects

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.

Around 2012, a man named Oscar returned to his family's traditional native homelands along a remote tributary channel feeding into the Copper River near Chitina. While harvesting fireweed blossoms for an elder auntie a quarter-mile from their rural cabin, Oscar witnessed a large brown form performing a series of strange, vertical bouncing movements through a 6-foot tall grass slough 30 yards out. Armed with a .357 handgun and believing it was a maimed, trapped bear that posed a community safety risk, he returned to camp to recruit his elder uncle, who brought a 12-gauge shotgun.

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.

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.

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 Kenai Peninsula resident named Kathy provided field testimony regarding a violent, point-blank raiding campaign executed against a nearby homestead where a mother was left alone with her young children while her husband worked the North Slope. Following a terrifying 45-minute screaming siege that occurred during a heavy rainstorm, the panicked mother recruited Kathy to investigate her layout.

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.

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.

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.

In the summer of 1978, a seasonal Tongass National Forest service worker named Eric and two colleagues executed an un-armed exploration trek up Powers Creek inside the tracy Arm-Fords Terror Wilderness within the Endicott Arm fjord system. After a peaceful first night, a thunderous, multi-octave shriek erupted from deep within the inlet canyon lines at midday.

During an autumn gold prospecting trip, two first nations brothers named Ivan and his sibling navigated their 18-foot Lund skiff as far upstream as possible into the headwaters of the King Salmon River, north of the Nuyakuk confluence. While meticulously searching the bank cuts for gold-bearing quartz veins, they pitched a light spike camp using a Coleman cookstove. On their third night, a terrifying vocalization that sounded exactly like a woman being murdered erupted from the opposite bank.

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.

For the first part of the video, I shot some footage of the Little Susitna River, part of Knik River by Jim Creek where Craig had gravel thrown at him, and a bridge over the Matanuska River.

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.