A Forbidden Trip to Cascadia

For a while, me and my friend Derek had been planning a trip up to the mountains in the Pacific Northwest. I think we’ve thought about it since we were freshmen in college, but never had the time or money to do it. God, even now I’m struggling to pay that debt off, even more so since after what happened, but I’ll get back to that later.

So, we began the trip after I met up with Derek at his place in Colorado. Me, being the homeboy I am, stayed in Oklahoma after graduation. The plan was to drive through Utah and Nevada and stop at the Sierra Nevada Mountains up in Northern California for some hiking. And before you ask, no we didn't stop by Vegas. We already have enough debt racked up from college, the last thing we needed was to potentially get a whole new one if we screwed up some gambles.

The trip up to the mountains was nice, but kind of boring. Nothing but plains and desert once we got out of Colorado. Derek and I caught up on what we had done after graduation. I became an electrician. It pays well. There’s always a need for it too so I’m never out of the job. Derek is attempting to make a career as a sequential artist, like storyboards and comics and stuff. He’s not doing the best. He says that a lot of the big comic and entertainment places “aren't looking for people like him” and that some aren't even going to be around that much longer. I told him to go for a different career, but Derek’s stubborn as an ox and wanted to at least try to get in to tell his stories. This trip was supposed to help clear his mind, perhaps give me the opportunity to persuade him to go into another, more stable field, but in hindsight, all it did in the end was wig us out and put us in a worse financial position.

Before we got to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, we stopped at a gas station to fill the car's tank, stock up on snacks, and take an opportunity to enjoy the modern miracle of plumbing and hygiene products before we would be forced to run behind a bush and use leaves to wipe. 

After we got done enjoying the wonders of the modern west and stocking up on snacks, we went up to the station’s clerk to check out. The clerk began to plug in what we were going to purchase when he asked us if we were going anywhere. I replied by saying that we were going on a hike up on the Sierra Nevada mountains. The clerk became uneasy at the mention of the Sierra Nevadas and then asked if we were going to stay there long. I said that we planned on camping up there for a few days. He became even more uneasy and told us that it was not wise for us to do that. I asked why not and this is what he said.

“My family has long passed down the tale of the monsters that haunt the Sierra Nevada mountains. Beasts that warred with the North Western tribes and threatened to wipe them out with their superior animalistic strength. The tribes were luckily able to beat them back and condemn them to the Sierras with their intellect and use of tools. Their unsaid pact at the end of the war was that those of the tribe were to stay out of the Sierra Nevadas and allow the beasts to live in peace and solitude. Any humans who set foot in those mountains for too long tend to never be seen again and any who come back from an overextended trip usually return with stories of being attacked by something as big and hairy as a bear and the face of a man. While I may not be able to force you two from going into those mountains, I strongly suggest that you do not, for your own sake.”

I have never really believed in anything of the supernatural nature, Hell I wanted to tell him he was crazy to his face, but I decided to be courteous and just that we’d not stay around long. I was lying to him. At the time I had no reason to believe him. Besides, I had brought a pistol with me, so I was confident enough to think that nothing should have been too much of a problem, especially since it was my understanding that bears haven't been in California since the twenties.

We pulled up to the Sierra Nevadas not too long after we left the gas station. We parked at some place that permitted us to leave the car in the lot for a few days, got our stuff together, then set off on our hike into the mountains.

We were going off road, being of the opinion that the usual trails were always boring and you don't really start having fun until you take a less beaten road. That’s where you start to see things seen by no one else before. That’s where you start to see nature the way it was before man came and molded it to suit himself. It was always fun when I went hiking off-road before, but in hindsight it might have been the dumbest decision we made that entire trip.

The needles of the evergreens that flooded the area shone a brilliant blue green, and the forest floor was peppered with hundreds of weeds and wildflowers. The chirping of birds and sounds of bugs and mice skittering filled the air, almost as if we had entered a natural city. It was dark and cool, the only light poking through the dense canopy was from the sun. It was a good thing that we had flashlights because once night came around, not even the moon would be able to light our way in some places. We honestly didn't give much thought to this until later, a really stupid move on our parts.

We were goofing around and talking for a while. Time sort of melted away. Around the time the sun was setting, we noticed something really weird. You know how I described the forest before? How it was like a natural city? Well, when we were standing there in the red orange light of the setting sun, we noticed that all the birds, the rustling...it all went silent. We then got the feeling of something watching us. We both thought that it might have been a cougar if anything. Nothing a well aimed shot from my pistol couldn't solve. 

The first night we set up camp, it started out normal enough. The air was once again filled with noise like any city should be, be it if it’s made from concrete and steel or sod and bark. This time it came from frogs, crickets, and the occasional owl. Derek and I were in our tent about to fall asleep to the sounds of the wildlife when we heard something that jolted us wide awake. It was a howl, not like a coyote’s or even a wolf’s. The closest thing I could compare it to were those short moans lions sometimes make, but stretched out and with a…I don’t know how to explain this, a human tinge? Like it was as if some guy was able to make that howl at that exact tone, a person doing an impression of an animal. You know, like when someone is making a hunting call, they sound like the animal, they could be spot on, but you just know that it’s not that animal. It was an uncanny valley thing.

After the howl stopped, everything went silent. All the frogs, the bugs, everything. For about ten seconds there was pure silence and then we heard a pack of coyotes go crazy, like they were trying to rally together or something. They continued to go on like this for what felt like forever. They eventually stopped and we eventually went to sleep, I made damn sure my hand was on my pistol the entire time though. I didn't want to take any chances. Even if the thing that made that howl didn't come down, those coyotes sounded unusually bold, like they thought that they had already made a kill or were about to land a killing blow to something. Maybe they were trailing whatever made the howl and planned on taking the leftovers of whatever it killed. I still don't know, and I don't think I ever want to.

That morning we woke up groggy. I don't know how late we stayed up, but it had to be pretty late. Derek was the first one to get up and try to get out of the tent. He unzipped the tent and then I heard a THUMP! 

“What the?” Derek said. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he ran his foot into a stump that was in front of the tent’s entrance. I told him that I didn't remember putting the tent up next to a stump. Derek said that we didn't and said that the stump outside of the tent was pulled out from somewhere else and put in front of our tent. I said he was full of BS and he told me to come out and see for myself. I did and he was right. Someone had definitely uprooted this stump and put it in front of our tent. You would see the little fine hair roots and everything. It was really weird, but we both dismissed it as someone else camping out there messing with us, a stupid decision I know, but we were determined to have a good time out in those mountains and some clerk telling us a ghost story, some weird noises and some asshole putting a stump in front of our tent wasn't going to keep us from doing so. That’s what I thought at least. That whole idea of us forgetting about the prior day didn't really work however.

The entire day we were looking over our shoulders, suspicions of any sound we thought might have been the thing we heard. As we went deeper into the forest, the silences became more and more prevalent. Too prevalent. We really started to get the feeling that something was stalking us. All day we were feeling uneasy, uncertain and then at sunset we finally saw what we thought was stalking us.

It was a coyote. A regular old coyote, but there was something weird about it that Derek made sure to point out clearly.

“You see that too right? Some thatch rope around its neck!”

I assured Derek that I did indeed see the thatch rope around it, but it wasn't just laid or placed on the coyote. It was tied around its neck. It almost looked like a dog collar! I squinted my eyes and say that there was something else weird about that coyote. There was an extra bit of fur hanging off its neck, but on closer inspection I saw that it didn't quite match the rest of the coyote’s fur. Then I realized that that bit of fur wasn't even connected to the coyote’s body. The thatch rope collar was threaded through it. It was a squirrel’s tale!

“Dude,” I whispered to Derek, “that coyote has a squirrel’s tale on it’s neck. I think that someone has been treating this thing like a dog!”

Derek replied panicked. “You don't think we’ve stumbled on some weird hillbilly or shaman’s land do you?”

I answered Derek back saying that I didn't know. The coyote wasn't doing anything but standing there panting and whining like a dog. My eyes darted around scanning the area for anything else suspicious. I then felt a shiver run down my neck and I looked over my shoulder. Another coyote! This one also had a thatch rope collar around its neck, but this collar had been threaded through a small two-pointed antler.

“Derek! There’s another one behind us!” I warned him, but he did not look behind him. His eyes were situated to his left. 

“There’s a third one to our left!” Derek told me. This one had it’s thatch collar threaded through another tail. 

All three of the coyotes just stood there in front of us, watching. Doing nothing. And then they began to yip and go crazy like the coyotes we heard the night before. More coyotes began to come out into the open. All of them had thatch rope collars. All of them had their collars threaded through something. I began to pull out my pistol and told Derek what I was going to do. I didn't want to kill anything right away, nor did I want to potentially piss over whoever might have owned those coyotes, so I raised my pistol into the air and let off a warning shot.

BLAM!

It was deafening and echoed through the silent forest. Lucky for us, it was enough to scare off the coyotes. For a while, we just sat there trying to understand what we just saw. 

That night wasn't much better. Once again we heard that howl. Once again the coyotes went crazy. We could barely go to sleep and a few minutes after we did, I thought I heard something big stomp next to the tent and drop something before stomping back off. I thought it might have just been me imagining things, but that morning proved me otherwise.

When we tried to get out of the tent, there was a giant log at the exit. We couldn't get around it. We tried to push it, but it wouldn't budge. There was no way a guy could have picked this up, but we don't remember anything that sounded even remotely like a vehicle last night and when eventually wriggled out of the tent and over the log, we saw no tire tracks. What we did see though, were tracks. Strangely Human tracks. They were like if some guy was walking around barefoot but...bigger. They were huge and the distance between them was even bigger. This thing had a stride as long as I was tall! I shivered as I thought about how big this thing had to be and how it could effortlessly scoop us up and drag us away to who knows where it it ever wanted to.

We decided to start heading back right then and there. The problem was that we walked so far that we would have to spend another night in those woods. Another night with those coyotes. Another night with whatever put that log in front of our tent and made those tracks.

The entire time we were walking back it was silent! Pure silence. At least on the other days there were breaks in it where we would hear the birds or something in the brush, but that day there was nothing! It really freaked us out, and then all of the sudden one of the coyotes with the thatch collars leaped out of a bush and began to barrel towards us! The entire time it was aggressively barking and snarling. Derek and I were paralyzed with shock and fear, not knowing what to do. My fight or flight reaction didn’t kick in fast enough to snap me out of it and that coyote jumped at me, tackling me to the ground.

I know that compared to some other animals that usually run around in the wild, a coyote is relatively small, but if they build up enough speed and hit you with enough force, they can easily put you on the ground. It’s kind of like how some mid size dogs can easily knock you down by jumping on you when they are overly excited and begging for attention only this coyote wasn’t wanting pats and scratches. It was wanting to rip out my throat and it would have if I didn’t snap out of that fear paralysis when I hit the ground and began to hold the coyote back by pushing back on it’s chest and throat. That still didn’t keep it from scratching my chest though. God, that stung bad. It could have been worse. I know for a fact that the coyote’s claws had to be dull since that’s just comes from running around, and my shirt provided a thin layer of protection from the coyote’s attack, but even with all that being considered, the scratching still hurt like hell and I wouldn’t be able to hold the thing back from my face and throat forever. Luckily for me, Derek ran at the thing and drop kicked it off of me. It yelped in pain as it was launched off of my chest and hit the ground and rolled. With adrenaline still pumping through my body, I then rolled over and upholstered my pistol and slung it in the direction of the coyote as it began to get up and then…

BLAM!

The sound of the shot and the coyote’s screaming howl of pain flooded through the forest and echoed back at us, as if the forest itself was reminding me that I had just killed one of its children. At least Derek and I walked away from that encounter relatively unscathed. 

I lifted up my shirt to examine the scratches along my chest and stomach. Some of them broke my skin but most just look like I was furiously scratching at bug bites. Dull claws and a shirt, I’m pretty sure I’d be waaaay up shit’s creek if they weren’t at play there. I broke out the neosporin I brought along in my backpack and rubbed it on where the scratches broke the skin and then we continued on our way out of the forest with an extra hustle in our bustles. The entire time we were looking behind our backs and anywhere that looked like it could conceal something. We didn’t want to take any chances. Whatever was following us wanted us out of that forest and it clearly wasn’t opposed killing us. Hell, it probably wanted to kill us even more since judging by the collars on the coyotes, I just killed one of it’s pets.

We walked along for as long as we could, but we eventually had to stop to set up camp. We wanted out of that forest, but as much as we didn’t want to accept it, we had to stop and rest or there would be no chance of us getting out of there, especially since we couldn’t see anything. Like I said before, the canopy blocked out a lot of sunlight during the day and the moonlight during the night. Our flashlights alleviated the darkness a little bit but not enough to where we would be able to see another one of those coyotes trying to blindside us. We had no other choice than to crawl into our tent and hope nothing tried to come in.

That night started out quiet. Not even those Coyotes were making noise. We stayed up seeing if we could hear anything, and prepare to protect ourselves just incase something came and attacked us. We stayed awake for a while and began to drift off. We thought that maybe nothing was going to come and we were the reason everything was, or stayed, quiet. In our time there so far, I shot my pistol twice. That had to scare the crap out of anything close by not just the coyotes. Perhaps the animals of the woods thought that we were hostile. That is what we were thinking...until we started to hear a consistent thump far off that began to get closer.

“Is that someone cutting wood?” I asked groggily.

Derek said it couldn't be. When you hit a tree that hard with something that solid, it echoes. This sound wasn't echoing. It wasn't on wood. It was something big hitting the ground hard and hitting it consistently. Like it was running. I asked if it was a deer, but Derek said that it couldn't be. Deer aren't that heavy and the way the thumping was, it sounded like it was something bipedal! Like a person!

“What the Hell? Is some guy charging us?” I shouted. I was answered shortly after by that howl! “Holy shit!” I thought, this is the thing we’ve been hearing for the last two nights, and it was charging right for us!

I shouted at Derek to move to the back side of the tent as I began to scooch to the front and in a moment, the middle of the tent was bulldozed over by a very large, very hairy pair of legs. I begin to crawl away from it, tearing the rest of the tent apart. I looked back and noticed the thing bending down. It picked up Derek with one hand gripping onto Derek’s shirt. I turn on my flashlight to get a better look at it and for the first time I get a full view of the creature as it turns to face me.

It was at least 9 feet tall, covered head to toe in thick black hair with it’s only bare patches being the palms of its hands, soles of its feet, a Gorilla-like belly and chest (and I mean it, this thing had a GUT! It was eating good out there in those woods whatever it was), and it’s disturbingly humanl-ooking face which had a very blocky jaw and a brow ridge so pronounced you could mistake it for a Neanderthal’s. It’s skin had a slight tan color, kind of like how a chimpanzee’s skin looks. Poking out from its lower jaw were two canine teeth that looked like they could rip out my jugular just by running one across my throat. It’s amber eyes were fixated directly at me and my holstered pistol which I had my hand rested on, prepared to pull it out.

The beast howls that same horrible howl at me before tossing Derek aside like a rag doll. He screams in fear as he is flung and disappears into the darkness. I hear a wet crunching sound as his body hits what sounds like a tree and the. A thud on the ground followed by Derek screaming in pain. He definitely broke something, not anything real vital as he was still able to scream and writhe around on the ground, but it was important enough and sounded bad enough to make him hurt bad. 

Once I was done getting over the shock of how easily that thing was able to fling Derek aside and do a pretty good number on him, I noticed that it was bounding towards me at an incredible speed. I nearly shit myself as I began to run backwards, trying to keep my distance from the thing while keeping it in sight so I could have some chance at hitting it with a shot from my pistol. It wasn't slowing down at all so I had to take my shot and take it now!

BLAM!

“SHIT! I MISSED!” I thought to myself, and in an instant the thing was on top of me and backhanded me! 

I was put on the ground so fast I think I got whiplash. My jaw felt loose and like it was made of gravel. I spit out a tooth and began to taste blood. This thing broke my jaw and as looked down my body and up at it looking over my body, I knew that it was about to break a lot more on me. I had to act fast or that thing would kill me and Derek. We would never be heard from again, Hell we probably wouldn't ever be found. Luckily, I didn't let go of my gun. I slung it up quickly and pulled the trigger just as that thing moved it’s arm to slap my arm down.

BLAM!

Almost instantly, the forest was filled with a horrid roar of pain from the beast as it clasped it’s hands over one of its eyes and began to run off. I too felt something else that hurt like fire. The arm I was holding my gun with, the forelimb was broke in the center and was handing down towards my chest. The skin facing away from my body was also ripped up. I laid there on the forest floor for a few seconds, moaning in pain before I psyched myself up enough to get up. You’d be amazed at how hard that actually is to do without without the use of both arms. My gun wasn't in my hand anymore, but I didn't take the time to look around for it. I wouldn't even be able to use it with how bad my arm was broken, and my firing skills aren't exactly ambidextrous.

I shined my flashlight around until I found Derek and then walked over to him. He wasn't in much better shape. One of his arms was broken about as bad as mine was and he said his chest was hurting. I helped him up with my good arm and told him through my garbled, broken voice that we couldn't stay around or that thing would come back to finish the job. If it hated us when we stepped foot in the forest and got a vendetta when I killed one of it’s pets, I’d hate to see how it would come back to us after I had just taken one of its eyes.

Derek and I began to hobble through the pitch black forest with only our flashlights to show the way. We didn't even go back to get our stuff. We didn't want to take any chances of that thing jumping out at us while we were gathering it all up. It felt like an eternity, is going through that dark maze of a forest. We didn't know where we were going, we just kept going in one direction and then when the sun began to rise we were glad to see that we picked the right direction. We had come upon the place where we had parked.

I don't know what happened after we got out of the woods, but the next thing I knew I was in a California hospital doped out of my mind with a doctor saying that me and Derek were lucky to be alive while my family stood by horrified at my looks. Later on the police came by and asked Derek and I what happened. We gave them the description of what we came across and told them what happened. They are still looking for a “9 foot Caucasian or Native American man with a weight problem, a possible case of Hypertrichosis and tooth implants in the lower jaw.”

I’m writing this a few months after this all went down and you know that financial problem I said Derek and I had after that trip? Yeah. Apparently insurance doesn't cover Cryptid attacks. So now we’re drowning in both college debt and medical bills. Ugh, I’m pretty sure starvation will finish off where that thing started. Oh well. At least I know that I should never go into the Sierra Nevada mountains again. And I suggest that whoever’s reading this follows that advice, that is unless you find being crippled or going missing appealing.