SASQUATCH SIGHTINGS: A Second Close Encounter in the Sierras-Part 2

A Second Close Encounter in the Sierras-Part 2

To read Part 1 of this encounter, click here.

REAL SASQUATCH ENCOUNTERS
by John

ENCOUNTER 2
PART 2

The sasquatch made his way around the obstacle(s) then followed along the edge of the field, close by where the trees were. Being a distance from us I wanted to get a closer view. So I drove my Bronco forward about 30 feet when I noticed the sasquatch became startled, so I stopped. The sasquatch stopped too and turned left facing us with an angry glare. After a few moments he turned and continued heading towards the road. Still, there was too much distance between the sasquatch and us and I really wanted to get closer. Trying not to scare the sasquatch, I carefully moved my Bronco ahead another 10 feet, then had to stop quickly when I saw the creature stop abruptly, turn his body, glaring at us angrier. Not wanting to cause any further problems, I shifted my transmission into neutral and applied the emergency brake. A couple moments later, the sasquatch turned and continued walking and twisting sideways repeatedly as he kept a watchful eye on us. As it was passing through the lighted area of my headlights I noticed something dangling . . . it had a penis. Soon, he crossed over the road and headed diagonally downhill. After walking several feet he stopped and looked around in the direction he was heading. Then, he turned and glared at us for a few moments, with what appeared to be an unhappy look. From there, he turned around and walked back up to the road. Standing in the center, he turned right and presented us with a glaring mad look.

At this time Michael was rambling again showing fear. I told Michael to be quiet and listen to me because I had two important questions I needed to ask him. Michael agreed to listen. I asked Michael specifically:

1. “Are you seeing exactly what I am seeing?” Michael answered firmly “YES!”
2. “Are you experiencing exactly the same thing I am experiencing?” Michael answered firmly “YES” again!

I said “GOOD, we are in agreement with each other. Remember this night and don’t forget it.” Michael agreed not to forget it.

As the sasquatch stood there I told Michael that “I wished I had a camera so that I could photograph it to show as proof of what we are seeing and experiencing right now”. Michael agreed. Observing the sasquatch, I can describe him as being very tall (8½ ’~9 ½ ’), very muscular build with broad shoulders and no neck, long black hair covered most of his body, his head was somewhat conical with black facial skin, and yes, he had a penis and testicles, all of which compose a true, genuine male specimen.

Within a few moments, the creature started walking towards us. I told Michael “Don’t to do anything to provoke him; just look at him and watch”. I thought, presumptuously, that it would pass around my Bronco and continue walking down the road behind us like any other animal would. It didn’t take long before the sasquatch had traveled some distance reaching more than half way to us. His posture was stern as he walked towards us at what seemed a normal pace. But his foot steps were spaced distantly apart allowing him to traverse distance speedily. I told
Michael: “Look at that! Look how big he is. Damn, he’s TALL!” Michael acknowledged in agreement.

The creature stopped about 40’ in front of my Bronco, and confronted us with a furious look. Right away, Michael and I sensed danger. Instead of walking around, the sasquatch deliberately marched directly towards us. I told Michael “QUICK, LOCK THE DOORS!”

Reacting immediately in rapid sequence, I pressed down on the clutch pedal, twisted around and turned my head looking out the rear, I pressed down on the accelerator revving up the engine, then, quickly released the clutch pedal making for a speedy getaway backwards. But something was wrong, I wasn’t moving . . . I forgot to shift! Quickly, I slammed down on the clutch pedal, and shifted the transmission into reverse, revved up the engine a couple more times, and quickly released the clutch again. Then, I started to panic realizing that I still wasn’t moving . . . I forgot to release the emergency brake! Nervously, I attempted to reach down for the brake-release handle when I noticed the sasquatch was already standing about 8 feet from the right front corner of my Bronco staring down at us. Both, Michael and I were horrified, too scared to move.

Then, the sasquatch moved in closer and stood next to the door. Facing towards the rear of the truck, his body bent over leaning forward. This guy was so tall, I had to twist and turn my head around clockwise, slowly, to see what he was doing. His head was positioned at the rear corner of my Bronco with his eyes peering in at us through right-side rear window where snow wasn’t sticking. Then he stood back up and turned facing the side of my Bronco. Meanwhile, Michael sat terrified and frozen to his chair.

Not knowing what was going to happen, I wasn’t going to waste a second while making a last attempt to get away quickly. I revved up my engine, hoping in part to scare the sasquatch from getting closer, and initiate a rapid escape from there.

Unexpectedly and surprisingly then, the Bronco started rocking from side to side. The sasquatch was shaking my Bronco pushing against the roof edge. The shaking intensified, then stopped. A moment passed as the sasquatch repositioned himself. Then, I heard it grunt a couple times and the shaking resumed more violently. Suddenly, I felt pain on my head. Michael’s head and my head were banging against each other and against the door windows and frames. Michael, being taller, hit his head on the inner roof edge too. I was about to get the words out but Michael was faster than me as he complained: “Stop banging my head! Stop it! It hurts!” I shouted to Michael “I’m trying not to”. Holding on, I tried to control myself on my seat. Glancing sideways, I saw the sasquatch rocking my Bronco. His hair was rubbing against the windows causing the snow to fall off. The intensified rocking caused my tires on the right side of the Bronco to clear off the ground a few times. Finally, the sasquatch let go and the tires hit the ground.

Bewildered from this experience, I was hoping that BigFoot was finished, walk away and leave us alone. But NO! He had to walk around to my side of the Bronco, clockwise, and stood next to my door. I was terrified. Then he moved back a ways and growled at us a couple of times. Its’ growl had a grumbling low resonance to it which no human could replicate audibly, it’s hard to describe. Then, it returned, grabbed my roof and growled again and my truck started rocking. Through my drivers-side door, I saw snow wiping off with its’ hair rubbing tightly against my window as the creature was shaking my truck.

In spite of fear, this wild idea flashed through my mind: What if . . . I quickly roll down my window and pluck off a few hairs, and then quickly roll the window back up? The sasquatch was right there, closer than an arm’s length. I had the window of opportunity but with only a few moments to carry this out.

Carefully, I weighed out the pros and cons:

PROS
1: I would have obtained real sasquatch hair samples!

CONS
1: Possible retaliation – Undoubtedly, it could roll my truck over
2: We could be killed
3: If we survived, it would be one hell of a long walk back to the nearest paved road.
4: It was freezing outside with lots of snow on the ground
5: There were doubts that Michael and I would have been able to roll my truck upright and questionable if drivable.

The risks were high, so I decided ‘not to’ do it; which probably was the best choice. But still, I think the idea holds some merit of value.

As the Bronco rocked more violently, Michael’s head and mine were banging against each other again. My left hand was grasping firmly onto the steering wheel and my right hand was grasping tightly on the floor shifter knob; I had minimal control. When the opportunity prevailed, I released my hand from the steering wheel and grasped the first solid thing to my left side, the door rest. A few moments later I quickly let go of the floor-shifter knob, reached below the seat and grasped firmly on the lower edge. Finally, I gained control of myself. Michael’s hands were already grasping firmly on the lower edges of his seat. I told Michael “HANG ON TIGHT, LET’S RIDE THIS OUT!” (This presented a whole new concept to the term ‘BUCKING BRONCO’.) Having regained physical control, we were able to prevent our heads from further banging. The creature shook the truck a few more times and then let go and the tires slammed back onto the ground again.

The sasquatch moved away, about 40 feet, from the side of my truck into the field. It turned around and looked at us. As it paused for a few seconds, I heard it growl a couple more times. Then it turned and started walking through the field, parallel to the road. Michael and I thought the creature was finally going to leave. Michael expressed a couple profanities to it and I started contributing too. Apparently, the sasquatch heard us because it slowed down and twisted around to look at us. We quickly shut up, afraid that we might stir up a problem.

After traversing about 100 feet, it stopped, looked around, then turned facing us. He watched us for a few moments, then he started backtracking to a little ways further back from where he was standing. From that point he watched us as if waiting for us to emerge from the vehicle or make some kind of move. But no way, we were chicken! Michael and I tried to watch it too, but that area was dark, and it was difficult to see him. We wondered what it might do next.

Several seconds had already passed when the sasquatch started to approach my Bronco again, heading towards my door. From there, it turned and walked around, counter-clockwise, to the passenger side. Michael was frightened and held still. Then, the sasquatch reached over grasping both side edges of my roof and started rocking my truck again. The tires were clearing off the ground again. In a moment, the sasquatch grunted and heaved. All of a sudden my body was pressed against the door and then something heavy fell on me. I tried to push myself upward but couldn’t. Then, I looked over and saw this hand pressing hard against my right upper arm and shoulder. I followed the arm looking for its owner. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Michael’s. All the while, my Bronco was being held up, tilted and balanced on the two left wheels. Once, it felt like the truck was going to roll over, but the sasquatch held on and pulled it back. I was surprised of this and couldn’t understand why the sasquatch didn’t push my truck all the way over. Our destiny was in its hands. Then, I begged him “Michael, let go of me you’re too heavy!” Michael said “I can’t!” I told Michael again “Get off of me, I can’t get up!” Michael exclaimed “I can’t, I’m falling . . . I can’t hold myself up!” Then I realized the only thing holding him there was his seat belt. Within seconds, the sasquatch dropped the Bronco sending the tires slamming back onto the ground. As Michael and I tried to regain our senses, the sasquatch started walking slowly away. Passing around the right-front corner of my Bronco, it walked left diagonally crossing over the road. All the while it kept twisting its body keeping a watchful eye on us. Then, it walked down the hill around some trees, counter-clockwise, and disappeared.

We knew it was time to get the hell out of there. After waiting several moments, making sure that the sasquatch was gone, I tried to start the engine. But it wouldn’t start. The carburetor must have flooded. Anxious to get away, I had to wait for a bit. Looking through the windows, I saw numerous foot prints embedded in the snow. They were all around my Bronco, on the road and in the field everywhere. The size of each foot print was enormously large.

I cranked the starter a few times and soon the engine restarted. Not wanting to make any mistake, I carefully shifted into gear and drove backwards following the path I had already made in the snow. I continued in reverse until I found a safe area where I could turn around without getting stuck. Worried that the sasquatch could appear again from around the trees, I did not want to have another encounter with it. After we turned around, I sped back for a good two or three miles before I slowed down. We eventually got back onto the paved road and returned back to Amy’s house.

Upon returning I wondered how I was going to tell Amy about our encounter. I walked inside and I heard Amy calling from the other room “Are you guys back already?” I answered “Yes we are.” Then she asked if we had any problems on our trip. I said “Yes, we did.” Amy approached me asking “What happened?” I told her we seen a sasquatch. Before I was able to go into details, Michael hollered to Amy as he stormed through the door “We saw a sasquatch, we saw a sasquatch, and it almost rolled us over!” Amy was startled and rushed over back to me asking if it was true. I said “YES! We did see a sasquatch and we were attacked; it nearly rolled my Bronco over!” We talked about the encounter for a while and Amy suggested that I should report it to the authorities. But I didn’t want to go that far and because people might ridicule me about it. Amy opposed and continued to urge me to report it.

In conclusion, I never did report it to the authorities and left it as that . . . until now. I believe the sasquatch assumed that I was stalking it, giving a probable reason for attacking. I’m looking for comments on this.

Witnesses: John and Michael

by John (The Humdingerguy)