Finding Bigfoot in the Dark

21 years, that is how long I have been actively engaged in hunting. That might sound like an exaggeration since I myself am only 24 years old, but if you read my first blog post, My First Hunt: Dad, Deer, and the Dozier Farm, you would know that I began my hunting adventures early. I am grateful for that and it’s something I take a lot of pride in, even though it was probably more of my father’s persistence in bringing me along than it was my own determination that kept me interested in the outdoors. Nevertheless, I am grateful. Dad bringing me along on so many of those hunts way back when is what enabled me to experience things in the wild that other hunters my age might not witness until later in their hunting careers. Things like packs of coyotes returning to their dens at first light, pileated woodpeckers digging in fallen trees searching for their next meal, or wild turkeys dueling red-tailed hawks like battleships and dive bombers in the Pacific during World War 2.

Each of these experiences is a blessing that opened even more doors of curiosity in my mind and heart that make me crave more. I believe all hunters long to know what goes on in those woods when we step away and return to our modern and convenient lives. That must explain the exploding markets for game cameras and other new technologies that leave little to the imagination. I have no problem with these tools and the knowledge they can provide, but I prefer to be surprised by nature and learn more slowly. That might make me a narrow minded traditionalist or an ignorant simplistic hunter who is unwilling to adopt new means to pursue game and I am sure a case can be made for both. However, there is something to be said about learning from nature at its own pace. There is something special to me about entering the woods on opening day, or any day for that matter, with little to no expectation except the anticipation that quietly says, “I wonder what today might bring.”

Wonder plays an interesting role in hunting and the vast wilderness we often occupy. It allows us to probe and ask questions we might not otherwise find value in. Questions like, “I wonder where this trail leads?” or “I wonder why those deer always show up in this location at the same time of day?” nudge us towards understanding more about the game we pursue. Wonder can produce amazing results while afield. It can also put our minds in a state of unrest when we aren’t sure how to answer those questions clearly. I have learned so much by pressing into wonder and the questions produced from it, but in my many years of hunting there are a few things I have experienced that I prefer to not know fully.

Something about darkness creates uneasiness in my bones to this day while in the woods. I think you’d be hard pressed to find an outdoorsman that says they feel just as comfortable in the pitch black void of the early morning woods as they do in the bright and shining moments of a clear afternoon. My heart often beats faster while walking to a tree stand in the dark. My muscles contract and my ears tune into every little sound, more so than they already do. I have jumped deer in the dark and been scared by the sudden blowing wind that comes through their nostrils when they themselves feel unsafe. On more than one occasion, I have been half way up a ladder when a flock of roosted turkeys decided to leave the tree my stand was attached to. That might not sound frightening at this moment, but I can assure you that the sound of multiple turkeys taking flight at a moment's notice is comparable to the spinning rotor of a helicopter preparing to leave the ground. Coyotes howling and owls screeching are always fun to hear before arriving at your hunting location safely. You might be thinking that I am just jumpy or easily scared and some of that may be true, but until you experience these things for yourself, tread lightly.

Despite all these moments of uneasiness, no single occurrence has ever left me more afraid and feeling more vulnerable than the story I am about to share. I don’t remember the exact date or even the year for that matter, but I know I was in highschool. At that point we had yet to move the deer stand that my dad harvested a nice 13 point buck from during the 2013 season, so I am inclined to say this story takes place during that same season or the following season, the fall of 2014, because that is the where I was sitting when this story takes place. Other than the date, all other aspects of this hunt stand out in my mind as if it were yesterday. Me and dad had just arrived at our hunting location in Dickson, TN. This property, like the Dozier farm was, has been in our family for generations. It’s not quite as large and doesn’t have those “big woods” like the Dozier farm, but it still feels as if you are stepping into a fairly untouched piece of Tennessee. Much of it has looked the same since my family took possession of it many years ago.

On the morning of my great scare, my dad and I arrived about an hour before the first light would appear over Jones Creek, a small but mighty stream that meanders through the mostly rural Dickson County. Dad placed me in my stand on top of a small ridge that runs from north to south across the property. Afterwards, he disappeared into the darkness and headed towards his own stand just a couple hundred yards away through the thick brush. Once dad left, I started to unpack my bag, as I always do. I like to have my grunt tube, bottle of water, and a few other small items readily at hand so I can minimize the amount of movement and noise created while reaching for them later in the hunt. While unpacking my bag, a sound erupted in the darkness that caused every fiber of my being to tense and immediately freeze. I will never forget that sound and I often describe it to friends when we share old hunting stories. It was a long drawn out scream that lasted 10-12 seconds I would say. It began with a deep hooting type noise similar to what an owl would release while sitting aloft the branch of an oak. It then transitioned into a howl like that of a lone wolf longing for its pack. After the howl, it finished by screaming a shrill and high pitched note that made my skin crawl. Then there was nothing but quiet.

I sat frozen in my tree for what felt like an hour before I was brave enough to radio dad.

Logic would suggest this noise was made by a bobcat, a critter infamously known for its terrifying screams, but something about it seemed more supernatural. Was this the ever elusive bigfoot, sasquatch, or skunk ape that I have learned so much about from the Discovery channel? Perhaps, or maybe my jumpy intuition caused me to overlook more likely culprits. Either way, the sound is one that I did not ask to receive into my ear drums and it is one that I will be completely content with never hearing again. We have since returned to that farm and those treestands and harvested many deer along that ridge, but a season will never pass that I don’t tense up more when I walk into those dark woods.

Wonder will leave you asking for more. It will make you long for answers, but some things might be better suited if allowed to remain wondrous. Needless to say, there were many prayers coming from the tree stand on that eventful morning. I am always in awe of God’s creation and the vast array of emotion it can and does evoke. Experiences like screams in the darkness or other strange behavior from wildlife give us hunters glimpses of understanding of how the natural world operates. It is all seen, or heard, through the gaps in the thickets or the streaks of light coming through the branches. Never will it be fully understood. Nature introduces itself through brief, yet abundant encounters. Even though I may never truly know the source of that wondrous scream in the darkness, I have peace knowing that all things were created by the one who put wonder in its place. I long to encounter the wild, but I long to encounter the creator of that wild more. He is a good Father. He filled His creation with so much life and diversity. How great it is that we get to participate in it. I pray that I will never cease to be amazed by Him and the wonders of His works. To Him be glory in our wondering and honor in our seeking of Him and His creation.