Bigfoot Came at Him and He Had to Shoot
An experienced hunter, unable to join his usual family group, tags along with a friend's neighbors for a three-day hunt. Wary of one drunken member (whose rifle is confiscated), he starts the first day late due to a delayed breakfast, arriving at a remote plateau overlooking timber and waterways well after dawn. Ignoring warnings about getting lost in 40 square miles of swampy woods, he ventures north alone along a game trail, crossing a treacherous 30-foot waterway via a fallen log—only to plunge into icy, quicksand-like depths mid-crossing.
He escapes using his 30/30 rifle's new sling to haul himself back onto the log, then continues, soaked but undeterred. Drying off while hiking to high ground, he spots fresh bear tracks near the crossing (possibly drawn by his splash), prompting caution. He observes snowshoe rabbits and a group of seven deer (including two bucks) from a log pile vantage, letting them pass as another hunter trails them.
Pushing deeper north through dense underbrush, he finds no deer sign in the isolated terrain, which puzzles him. As heavy snow turns to a blizzard near dusk, he retraces his steps, recrossing the log safely but arriving at the empty parking area—stranded in pitch darkness as his group has abandoned him. Waiting in limited 10-foot visibility, he hears rustling below and yells to alert what he assumes is the other hunter. Silence follows, but an unseen entity approaches uphill through an impenetrable 50-yard wall of 6-foot briar thickets laced with 1-inch "Wait-a-Minute" thorns—snapping branches in a bipedal rhythm that rules out human or bear. Drawing on prior friendly Bigfoot encounters during a Canadian fishing trip, he suspects a hostile 8-foot-tall one.
With no escape on the exposed plateau, he issues final warnings, then fires three close warning shots from his 30/30 (aiming to deter without killing, leveraging his 82nd Airborne background). Undeterred, the creature closes to 30 yards, forcing him to ready a lethal headshot. In a split-second twist of fate, a pickup truck crests the plateau just inches from him—the returning group, chastised for leaving early. He leaps aboard with his still-loaded rifle, urging them to flee without explaining the terror. The hunter reflects that without that timely arrival, the story would have ended fatally.
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