This week I made a stop at the Powder Mill Ledges Wildlife Refuge in Smithfield, Rhode Island. (Most of my travels and research are within the Blackstone Valley Heritage Corridor). The pictures of this trail looked to beautiful to pass up.

The Ledges are located at the main Audubon Headquarters in Rhode Island at 12 Sanderson Road. The main information building is closed now do to Covid but all the trails are open.

This area is home to 100 acres of woodlands and rock outcropping. But it’s also connected to a larger network of forestry in this area. One of my favorite things about this area are the large glacial boulders and old stone agricultural walls the settlers laid down.

As this is an Audubon Wildlife Refuge there are no dogs allowed, leashed or otherwise, and it’s home to such wild babies as the red fox, tree frogs, deer, turkey, etc. I noticed the birds were singing away.

Unfortunately, I also noticed how noisy it was with human sounds. It is abutting a major route and busy plaza, if you can block out the moments when those noises arise you’re golden. The trails themselves are well maintained and I even found a bench out there, (which I took advantage of because with the gradual inclines my thighs were burning)!

When I got far enough in and all was quiet I really looked around and noticed how creepy this forest seemed. I don’t think a squatch would chance staying in there long without being seen, (even though the food was in abundance). But, when you go to a preserve like this one and there is no hunting allowed, it’s a pretty safe place for them to literally grab a meal. Almost a fast food stop for squatches!

And while I am always looking at an area thinking, would a squatch come here? I was pleasantly surprised of two things while researching the history of the land, (which incidentally was never a mill nor does it really have ledges either) one, this property had stayed farm land up until the Audubon acquired it, this area could have possibly always been a food source for them. If, as I believe, they follow the river and green corridors along for sustenance and ease of travel they could potentially come right through here. One trail, the blue trail, takes you right to the high tension wires, another pathway for a squatch to travel. I myself only came across one unusual thing out there. These oddly piled rocks against a tree, but anyone could have stacked those.

And secondly, imagine my surprise when I found an encounter that happened here in 2016. Here is this girl’s encounter in her own words.

“I went here last Sunday, alone. I felt like eyes were on me the entire time. I stood on the tall clearing near the end of the orange trail and called out, “show yourself” then I took some photos. What I got sent chills down my spine and I haven’t slept since I found this thing in my picture!

On the blue trail, there was this log structure built up around the base of the tree. Upon further inspection, there was I found an empty toilet paper roll inside and some other old trash. Maybe there IS a man living in there? But that is no man I caught in my photo! The entire walk just felt very unsettling all the way through, I’m never going back there alone!

So first, i want to point out how brave she was because she was feeling unsafe but she still investigated the little shelter she saw, wether it was man made or not, she went over bravely and investigated and she was able to separate that the structure was most likely man made, but the feelings and other picture to her was not.

Now I’m aware that her above picture is hard to really tell for certain if it’s a Bigfoot or not, and that it may very well be a case of pareidolia, but I wasn’t there, we weren’t there, so the perspective is different. Her experience and feeling out there is one I’ve had several times, very unsettling to know when you’re not alone.

Overall, I enjoyed the walk, if nothing else I definitely got some good exercise, and hey, maybe I got to walk in Bigfoot’s footsteps this time…

Oh and PS don’t believe the pond sign, I walked forever and did it see a dang thing!

All pictures are my own except for the two stated above…

To the Wolf that guides my path

You have always known my way

You’ve made my thoughts reality

These woods are where I’d like to stay

Sit on the pine with you

and tell you all my dreams someday

To live free out here and pat your fur

Let you in from the rain

when you howl at the door

Just a teeny house, with a glorious fire

Look out the windows to all the swaying trees

I’d love to swing from them on a tire

Oh my Wolf, my best friend

We could live out there till the end

Companions, two wild souls with a bond

Hunting under the moon

And resting under the sun…

May 1st, 1852…

The Wild Man Again. We are credibly informed by a gentleman of this city, that the “wild man” has been seen again in the swamps of Arkansas. He derived his information from two gentlemen, who were out hunting, and approached as near as twenty paces to him. His appearance was so frightful that they did not attempt to approach nearer. He is described by them as being about 7 feet 2 inches high, and covered completely with black hair, intersperse of red now and then with gray.

The story or the representations of him as last seen, published in some of our papers, they pronounce untrue. He has no claws to his hands and feet, nor is he eight or nine feet high: still it would be a curiosity worth seeing.

We understand it is the intention of some of our citizens to capture him if possible. In the way of shows, he would be the wild mare, ” with the ” hippodrome ” thrown in Memphis Express,

CLIPPED FROM

Southern Shield

Helena, Arkansas

01 May 1852, Sat  •  Page 3

Have an awesome Wednesday!

Krantz, at the opposite pole, became interested in JligfoaL in 1969 when a deputy sheriff related a sighting “It sounded very solid. I wanted it to be true, but I didn’t think it was It would be nice, but ” He became convinced, however, when John Green, a journalist turned politician in British Columbia,, dragged him off to Bossburg, Wash., to see over 1,000 footprints ascribed to a crippled Bigfoot.

They were photographed and plaster – cast, as supposed Bigfoot prints frequently are, and Krantz reconstructed the ana’tomy of the foot, which strongly resembled a club foot. He decided the prints couldn’t have been faked. “It would have taken a brilliant anatomist with a very inventive (mind and we haven’t had one of those around since Leonardo da Vinci,” he says,

Well we have a film of a Bigfoot that just couldn’t have been faked, prints with dermal ridges that couldn’t have been faked, and lastly a million eyewitness.

It’s frustrating that someone could look at this overall collection of evidence and not want to consider its existence possible. We have put people away in the penal system for life with less circumstantial evidence than this. But for me I’m okay without a body laying around, I’m a believer, I don’t need to see one. So don’t get frustrated if you hit the woods and don’t discover one because I’m their every day and I haven’t even seen a bear out there, but I know they are there.,,somewhere.

If something doesn’t want to be seen out there, they won’t be seen

One of my favorite pass times is reading old news paper clippings, mainly cryptozoology themed ones. I love the writing style and how they described these encounters. It gives me a chuckle.

This one is from the great state of New York, The Long Island Star reported this encounter on, September 16th, 1818. And he is once again called a “wild man”. He is described as bending forward when running, hairy—and the heel of the foot narrow, spreading at the toes.” Very interesting description. The bending forward is a new one on me.

I’d love to find some of these old clippings transcribed because many just aren’t legible, anymore, and you definitely don’t want to miss any of these fun descriptions

Picture this, a cave in Illinois is about to host a fight for territory between a hunter and a “wild man”…

From the BFRO site:

“Mt. Sterling, Ill 1922 – A wild man, living in a cave near here, is thwarting all efforts of police and armed citizens to capture him and is keeping the countryside in terror with his raids on outlying farms. A price has been set on his head, but desperate attempts to capture him in his lair have proved vain.

The wild man recently made a series of bold robberies near. Mt. Pleasant, carrying off calves and sheep to a deserted mine where he stays hidden in the daytime. Ambrose Smith, a dead shot and tireless hunter, was seriously wounded in a terrific hand-to-hand encounter with the mysterious man-monster.

“The wild man has long, wiry hair that bristles about his savage-looking face.” Smith said in his home, where he is recovering from the adventure. “In the uncertain light of the cavern I made him out to be a great towering creature. His hands are thin and the flesh is stretched over the bones like leather.”

People feared black damp in the long empty galleries of the mine so much that even a reward of $500 for the wild man, dead or alive, failed to result in his apprehension. At last Smith, accompanied by J. M. Blair and others from Mt. Pleasant, all quick with a gun, went to the cave. It was late in the afternoon. Smith had the others stand back 200 yards from the mouth of the cave and entered alone, armed only with his large hunting knife. His dog followed him.

Night fell and the watchers waited in vain for Smith’s return. Then there was a great noise and the dog ran out whimpering. The men went into the cavern in search of Smith. They groped along through the twisting passageways in the darkness, but were unable to find any trace of him. At midnight Smith crawled from the cave on his hands and knees and fell faint and exhausted at the feet of his friends.

“I did not get more than 50 feet into the cave boys.” he said, as they carried him to the doctors, “when I saw the wild man glaring at me a few feet away. Then he sprang at me and held me in his steel-like grip. I tried to knife him but he held my wrist. For more than an hour we fought together on the wet floor of the cave.”

I thought I’d share a favorite BFRO report back from 1922. The description of the bony hands is curious though. What constituted a “wild man” to the hunters? Could it be a homeless man living in there.

It’s hard to believe that anyone is going to get in a cave battle with a Bigfoot and walk away to tell about it. And if it’s a Bigfoot it’s probably going to want to get out of there, not fight to stay after his location is discovered. The food source can’t possibly be worth risking a capture of some kind.

But I do love the mystique of the older reports and “wild man” is the best name for him I think.

Let me know what you think of this encounter.

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow…



“In the trees I would hide

From your whispers and your lies

Things like where you’ve been all night

Im not continuing the ride on this train

It’s finally jumped the rails

I’m going where I feel safe

I’m heading to the trails

Here I wont be invisible

Here I won’t be numb

So back to the forest I run

It’s always there for me

The animals aren’t there waiting to poke at my insecurities

Am I pretty enough? Am I smart enough?

You think I can take it,

but my skin is not that tough

So Im protecting my heart this time

Like a Phoenix I will rise

This year will be the unvalentine

Tell your whispers to the wind

This is where you end and I begin

I finally realize you’re not good enough for me

If I was the forest

You’d cut down every tree

Its time for me to rise up

Soon you’ll see

This unvalentine you don’t win, I do, me

We will see who is the happy one now

We will see who will enjoys the sunshine out here

And who will get stung by the bee”

If there is a valentines Day them so to should there be an Unvalentines Day…there must be balance in the universe

An unusual pair to be sure

Creatures of the night

One howling at the moon

One staying out of sight

Both on the hunt

Both need their feast

One is silence and stealth

The other a beast

A howl a roar

The hunt has begun

They will chase their prey

To the dawn of the day

Coming to a careful peace

To work together and each one eats

One loves the bones

Not just the meat

Pounding feet on the ground

A wild man and his hound

Freedom, fur and fear

Flesh is starting to tear

The meal is fresh

The frenzy of food is complete

The truce is coming to the end

Because they are enemies not friends

They have their territories to defend

But as they separate they have just one look back

They may not realize it yet but they two are a pack…

I was scrolling through Reddit on this cold Monday morning and cam across two posts I thought you would like to read…enjoy with your coffee, and stay warm…

First up this gem of a pic that’s been making the rounds..

They are definitely creepy, whatever they are, but is it real? Is it Bigfoot? Technology is both out friend and enemy right now. The technology helps us in our legitimate research, but has also become a playground for hoaxers and scammers. So I’m going with a fake here. What do you think?

Next up, someone shared their encounter on the Reddit Bigfoot Sub and I do believe this is a real encounter. When you’re in the forest weird things happen and I believe people have these encounters when they least expect it, sometimes it changes their lives…

Bigfoot in the Bayou

“First off let me begin by saying that I’m by no means qualified in any way to definitely say what I saw was a Cryptid. I’m just a guy that likes to camp and enjoy the outdoors. That being said; what I saw in March 2020 still has me scratching my head and wondering if what I saw was real or not. Last year as soon as the weather started getting better I began to go out and camp more. I use the camper shell on the back of my truck that I’ve built a bed frame and cabinets in. For reference my truck is very big. The roof stands approx 8 foot off the ground. She gets me where I need to go. On the night in question I drove out to one of my favorite secluded south Louisiana camping spots. My cousin and I planned to just build a campfire and catch up as I’d just gotten back from a month long job. That night we settled into the beds in the back of my truck. I have 2 beds shaped like an L and the one in the front allows a view out of the rear of the camper shell. At about 11 we were just talking and watching videos or whatnot and suddenly my cousin looks toward the back and his eyes widen. The next thing that happens is a loud SLAP on the roof of my truck. I sat frozen in shock and fear as it began to register what was going on. This primal sense of fear overtook me. I’ve been robbed at gunpoint in a shady part of town but that was nowhere near the amount of sheer adrenaline and fear pumping through my veins when I realized that something very big was out there. I grabbed my flashlight and swooped it across the bushes just in time to see a dark shape slide into the brush. I couldn’t tell if it was on 2 legs because of the height of the brush but it sure loped and move like a bipedal as well as being at least 6.5 feet. The spot I was at was very secluded as well. It was about 2 miles from the nearest house on a dear hunting lease full of new growth brush that was so thick you couldn’t even walk through. I’m not sure what I saw that night but it has opened my mind for sure. I don’t know if I ever want to encounter one again.”

I’m sure he doesn’t, but I hope he doesn’t stop doing what he loves…

Have a great Monday…