I have to say this has been a fun and interesting thread to read. It sure has reminded me of a number of startling, scary, and funny (sometimes all three) incidents I have had afield either hunting, working, or otherwise recreating.
Some startling ones were when I was working as a field biologist.
Topping the list was when I was radiotracking with static-filled headphones on, walking backwards in knee high brush. Suddenly something was slapping my leg, and I looked down to see my boot planted on the head of a large prairie rattlesnake. The rest of the body was thrashing around smacking me in the lower leg. It must have been asleep when I stepped on it. Yeep! There were other close brushes with snakes.
An incident that could have gone really wrong was with a very large, mature, ****ed-off mule deer buck during the rut. Maybe he had just lost a fight or something. I was walking a creek bottom survey transect when he trotted down a steep hillside to the creek and crossed about 25 yards from me without looking at me. I was walking, so I am sure he knew I was there. He stopped in a broken off treetop. Figuring he would move off when I resumed walking, I took a few steps, only to see him turn nearly
black as all his hair stood on end and his ears laid back! Crap! He was on the fight, and didn't care that I was a human! He would have punctured me through and through if he had charged me. I have done enough necropsies on gored deer to know the damage they do to each other. With one hand I covered my vitals with my 3 layer aluminum clipboard and with the other held my jacket out to look bigger as I sidestepped across the creek and to higher ground to get a positional advantage. After some very tense moments, he called it a draw and stalked off into the brush, still looking black as far as I could see him.
Funny but heart-stopping, I had a mallard hen launch off her nest between my feet in tall pasture grass, slapping me in the face with a wing as she passed. Someone passing in a car saw that and later asked me what had made me leap backwards into the air like an Olympic jumper.
One early fall I was elk hunting near Yellowstone, and the grizzlies and chokecherries were plentiful. There were elk around but they were quiet, probably because wolves had been in the area for a decade or more. I was up pretty high in dark timber, and dropped down into a little drainage right where there was a nice little spring. I was starting to think this would be a nice place to find an elk when I suddenly got a 6th sense alarm that went off. As I stepped into an adjacent meadow with dense forest and impenetrable shade beyond it, I suddenly focused on the crushed paths in the grass that looked as if someone had been dragging beer kegs through the meadow! Holy smokes! I had just blundered into a busy
bearhole. Boy did I back out of that area fast. I still think that warning bell came from a bear holed up in the dark beyond that meadow. I will admit that I was still a little jittery as I walked back to the truck. At one point a bunch of robins flushed from a chokecherry thicket a few yards ahead, and I was up and on them with my .338 in a heartbeat. A little over-gunned for that game, eh?
There was also a time elk hunting, not far from the Tetons, after the wolves got established. I was hunting an area where the snow said the elk had been hanging out, but then I found fresher sign where a pack of about 7 wolves had been hunting right where I was working through. Well dang, might as well go elsewhere. So I cut across this big open meadow, no elk here anyway, and about when I got to the middle in knee deep snow, I got this creepy feeling of being watched, assessed. There I was alone, out in the wide open, no cover or trees to back into for defense, and because of my bad knee, limping like vulnerable prey. Creepy. I scanned the treeline around the meadow with binoculars, but detected nothing. I went through a quick inventory: 4 in the .338 Mag, 6 in my .44 Mag, and my knife on my belt. Well, if it was wolves I could shoot a wolf or two, the rest would probably leave. I plowed on, keyed up, and nothing happened, but I have never forgotten that feeling of being potential prey to
something.
OK, I'll put it out there, the sasquatch encounters were the spookiest and creepiest experiences. Yeah, scoff and laugh if you want…until you have your own experience. I know there are others on here who know, because they have had experiences.
To the OP @
marksman1941, maybe you don't believe in Bigfoot, actually that is a butt of joking and derision because it has been made fun of and even taken advantage of for profit by "Bigfoot" groups. But you may well have had an encounter with actual sasquatches that night the guy waited on you. Sounds like it. He knew.