Rock Thrower of Colorado

Several years ago, my dad was in town on a break from work. My brothers, my dad, and myself decided to go on a fishing trip up to one of our favorite mountains, the Grand Mesa National Forest. On the way up, my brothers had made a joke about Bigfoot. You can obviously see where this tale is going… it wasn’t uncommon for us to bring up the subject of Bigfoot as we always talked about it when we were younger. We were all fascinated by the idea.
Upon the subject being broached, my brother had said something along the lines of, “It’s like your encounter dad.” I was confused and instantly asked what they were talking about. And so our story begins. For the sake of anonymity, I’ll call my dad Wayne for this story.
The town we live in is the very same town that my dad grew up in. Back when my dad was in his late twenties, he and his friends decided to go late night catfishing right off the Colorado River. They were fishing right off the bank and had a nice fire going – drinking beers, talking about girls, and who knows what else.
About an hour into their late night fishing trip, they heard a very loud splash in the water. Right away one of the first things they had thought was it must be a beaver slapping its tail in the water. Not long after, another loud splash occurred, but closer. “That sounded like a rock” one of them stated.
My dad and his friends walked to the edge of the water. They scanned parts of the bank that was not hidden in foliage. My dad looked into the river itself and on the bank on the opposing side. In the middle of the night, the moonlight cast some light – light enough so that my dad could see movement directly across from them on the other side of the river, even though it was in a dark shadow.
At that instant, a large rock landed just short of my dad’s feet, splashing him and his friend Chuck. Instantly, my dad knew it had come from the other side of the river.
This spot on the Colorado River is well over 400ft wide. I don’t know how many of you have tried to throw a golf ball-sized rock that distance, but it’s not easy. River rocks vary anywhere from 2 inches in diameter to 10 inches – the rocks that were being thrown were at least 10 inches in diameter.
As my dad and his friends were staring across the river, unable to detect the source of the rock thrower, another stone hurled directly at them. The group scattered as it hit the soil in between the four of them.
One of them grabbed the cobblestone, using both hands to do so. Slowly, they all went back to the fire. There was a moment of silence as none of them knew how to react. Finally, Lopez spoke, “Who the hell can throw a rock that big across the river?” An obvious question but one they were all thinking.
A few moments passed and it seemed to stop. They began to loosen up a little bit, enjoying their beer and almost getting to the point of laughing the incident off when out of nowhere, John screamed, “Wayne duck!” My dad dodged to the side as yet another large stone came all the way across and hit their fire pit. That was enough. My dad and his friends withdrew their fishing poles, jumped in the truck, and left.
They had talked a few times trying to figure out what it was that possibly could have been doing that. The verdict finally being that some kids must have come up with some sort of catapult and they were just too well hidden for them to see (though my dad never really accepted that explanation).
Well, you all guessed it, there’s a part 2 to this story as well…. At the end of the summer, a friend of my dad’s that we’ll call Tim, called my dad to see if he wanted to catfish by boat that night. Tim had gotten a new aluminum boat that he kept wanting to fish out of. Reluctantly, my dad accepted since he had turned him down all summer to hang out with him. It wasn’t because of the previous events that took place, those were pretty much in the back of my dad’s mind. Tim, even though he was a friend, got on my dad’s nerves.
It had been a full moon that night so they decided to hit the river with the boat. Most of the night had been pretty uneventful, catching a few fish, having a few laughs, and obviously having a few beers. It was the last leg of their journey when out of nowhere, something hit the boat. It was a very loud “ping” that shook both them awake in a half-dazed state.
“What the f***?” was all Tim could get out before there was a loud splash in front of the boat. They both looked around and it was there that my dad spotted it – on the south side of the river, was a large silhouette. The river’s pace had them just drifting along, but the moon and sky were so clear that my dad could see the figure (big, whoever he was or whatever it was).
The large silhouette bent over and grabbed another rock and hurled it their way, again striking the boat. Enough had been enough! My dad, not sure what to think, reached down and grabbed his 38 revolver. He knelt on one knee, aiming the pistol at the figure. It seemed not to care as it just kept slowly walking staying at the same pace as the boat.
When it bent down again, presumably to grab another rock, my dad fired a shot in the air. The figure rose suddenly, and in the same awkward throwing motion, hurled another rock which flew over the boat, splashing behind it.
My dad, fed up, fired again but this time in front of the shadowy figure, not trying to hit it, but definitely trying to scare it. It didn’t work, and the figure stayed side by side in pace with them.
Tim, being the cowardly type, was freaking out. My dad, also scared, was definitely curious as to just who the hell it was, why they were so big, and why they had been messing with them.
He would not get his answer, though, as the river began to pick up pace and in doing so, the silhouette sped up its walk in an effort to keep up with them. Finally, the figure just stopped and stared at them. My dad never stopped looking at the figure until it was out of sight.
So, you might be thinking, “Okay, your dad told you a Bigfoot story.” There’s a problem with that, though – if you know my dad, you know he is very down-to-earth. If my brothers and I tell him a story about how big a fish we caught was, my dad lowers its size even if he’s wrong. The point being, he under embellishes everything. Even when he told me this story, he made it sound like it was no big deal. The other problem with this is that my dad never made the correlation of the figure being a Bigfoot until about 30 years later when his friend was watching a documentary about Bigfoot with my dad. They saw when people reported the alleged habits of Bigfoots, that a common one is that they throw rocks.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my stories. These happened to my family, obviously not to me, but I thought I would share

A true Sasquatch sighting

This happened when I was 11 years old. I used to have this old little electric mini bike that went about 20 or so miles per hour and had a small little light on the front of it so I could see in the dark. I used it to get to and back from my friends’ house. On one particular summer night, I drove over to a friends house on my mini bike at around 5 or 6 pm to play with him on his Xbox 360, I believe we played Call of Duty 4, or World at War, I’m not sure which one we played. All I know, is that I stayed there till around 9:00 at night, and since my parents were easy going parents and we lived about 2 miles away from this friend, they didn’t mind that I’d come home late or drive to my friends house on the little mini bike, since it went at a decent speed.

When I went outside of my friends house after I said goodbye to him, I went to go on my mini bike to drive back home. Keep in mind the whole way there, around his house and mine, too, is are largely wooded area, so we would always hear creatures moving around and always hear crickets. When I hopped on my mini bike, I heard nothing at all, not even any crickets. It was just silence. This was very odd because we always hear them and there are thousands of them in the woods. There was something that made them quiet. Take note that the mini bike was electric and didn’t make much sound when it accelerated.

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Watcher in the Woods

This encounter took place in 2010. My boyfriend and I were in our mid-twenties. It was summertime. We were lucky enough to get time off work at the same time, so we decided to spend a couple nights at my family cabin. The cabin is located in Northwestern Ontario, Canada, in a remote area about 40 minutes away from the nearest town. It’s on a medium sized lake surrounded by dense forest. There are only 20 cabins on the lake, spread out quite far from each other. We were there in the middle of the week, so there weren’t many people on the lake. I should mention that the cabin is on an island.

Our plan was to get there Tuesday night and leave Thursday morning. We arrived and spent the first night without incident. On Wednesday, we took the canoe out for a short ride. We parked it on the mainland and went on a hike down an old logging road. The road hasn’t been driven down in years. It’s overgrown and as far as I know people only use it for blueberry picking now, but it goes into the bush for quite a few kilometers. The two of us hiked down the road for 2 hours, sat down for a small lunch, then decided to turn back. On our way back, I couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that we were being watched and followed. It only occurred to me then that if anything bad were to happen to us, no one was coming to help. In hindsight, we should have told someone about our hiking plans, just in case, but it was too late for that. I tried my best to dismiss how I felt and didn’t even mention it to my boyfriend.

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