Mother and daughter are camping at Lake Cumberland in southeast Kentucky. They sense something stalking them, until a Bigfoot lets out a loud, deep growl, while tearing through the woods.
I recently received the following account:
"The last weekend of June 2014, my daughter and I decided to go camping. It had been about 10 years since the last time. She's 28 and I'm, well, older.
Anyway, we buy a new tent, find all the other gear in the garage and pack up the van. We head out to Lake Cumberland, a place called Bee Rock, in southeast Kentucky. It's about 25 miles from our home. Very rustic camp ground, just a spot for a tent and a fire pit, right on the lake. Very few people go there, they like the newer campground with electric and showers. I was raised a tomboy. My dad took me hunting, fishing and roughing it in the wild. I have raised my kids the same way.
With us was my dog, half Great Dane, half Boxer, named Spike. The sweetest big lump of dog, except if he felt I was under threat. We arrived in the afternoon and soon set up camp. We fished 8 feet from the tent. The place was heaven. Birds, crickets and frogs, and the occasional jumping fish. Not a boat or other campers in sight. We caught several big mouth bass, and I cleaned them and cooked them. Around 9 PM we went on to bed.
Now, it was humid, and took me about an hour to fall asleep. Around 2 AM I wake up. I am usually a heavy sleeper, like coma time. I sat up and realize the lantern has burned out, and the fire is just red embers. There is only quiet, not a breeze turning the leaves, not a frog in protest. Nothing. Spike is sitting right in front of the screen, rigid. Strange. My daughter hears me getting up and turns over. I grab my flashlight and 9mm, just in case somebody is lurking around.
The 3 of us emerge from the tent, I had Spike on leash. This dog was all muscle and140 lbs, and could have pulled me behind him if he felt the need to get to something. I turn the beam from my light all around the camp. The forest was thick with huge old growth trees. I was disturbed by the silence. I had that creepy sense that something was watching us, and despite the heat, I had chill bumps. Not seeing anything, I stirred up the fire and placed some wood on it.
We sat in our camp chairs, watching the flames when Spike began to tremble. He entered a stance and his back leg kicked out and my flashlight went tumbling into the water. I held tight to the leash, my daughter cowered behind my back and we squinted into the darkness trying to see what the dog was pointing to. I automatically pulled my Ruger while pulling Spike back. At least a minute passed, no sound. The fire was going good but still didn't see anything.
The van was parked about a quarter-mile away, not an option to go running through the woods with whatever was stalking us. I'm not the bravest gal in the world. Something told me if made a break for it we would be dead. I made the decision to go back in the tent. The fire gave us enough light that we would see whatever might approach. We backed up, into the tent, pulling Spike.
Once inside, the dog remained at the screen anxiously staring out. He never once growled, just trembling.
Minutes passed. We sit, back to back waiting, watching. I don't know how much time passed. Spike had sat down, still keeping a vigilant watch. My daughter and I were nodding off.
All of a sudden, a deep, reverberating, primitive growl was unleashed somewhere in the trees behind the tent. I swear the ground and air vibrated with the power. My daughter let out a little yelp, it was all she could manage. Spike went nuts, tried to leap through the screen, between us we held him back. Then the growl rang out again. It was further away and sounds of a tree crashing to the ground and underbrush rattling.
I thought about firing my 9mm, but something told me it would be a sign of aggression and this thing would charge us.
We waited about 5 minutes on pins and needles. Spike slowly calmed down and morning birds began to sing. After a couple cups of strong coffee we went exploring, just far enough to see a medium sized tree pushed over and a new path going up the side of the mountain through the brush. There were faint foot prints in the hard ground, but they were huge! We cut our camping trip short.
I never believed in Bigfoot, this experience changed my mind." PT
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