Missing Hiker Austin King: Bigfoot Sighting Theories in Yellowstone National Park

In a spine-chilling tale that's sure to send shivers down your spine, a 22-year-old park employee, Austin King, vanished without a trace in the heart of Yellowstone National Park. His disappearance, on September 14th, 2024, has left many puzzled and whispering a chilling theory - Bigfoot. Austin, a seasoned park employee, was known for his survival skills. He spent the entire summer working in the concessions department of Yellowstone, and the wilderness was more than just a job to him. Over the months, he learned the terrain like the back of his hand, navigating sharp cliffs, winding trails, and isolated zones with ease. On September 14th, Austin packed his gear and set off on a solo adventure. His goal was to climb Eagle Peak, the highest point in Yellowstone, and finish his hike down by the southeast arm of Yellowstone Lake. He was cautious, informing friends and family about his route and checking in often. By September 17th, he reached the summit. He called his loved ones. He'd made it. But there was something in his voice. Worry. The weather had turned violent, with thick fog, freezing rain, pounding winds, and even hail. Austin admitted he was concerned but also made it clear he planned to finish the hike. That was the last time anyone heard from him. He was supposed to meet up with a boat crew at Yellowstone Lake on September 20th, but he never showed. His family reported him missing that same day. The search began immediately on September 21st. Rescue teams scoured the back country. They found his camp near Upper Howell Creek, right where he was supposed to be. But Austin wasn't there. His gear was intact, with no signs of a struggle. No animal tracks, no blood, nothing. Over 90 people joined the search. Helicopters, drones, K-9 units. They swept through Eagle Peak, Mountain Creek Trail, and even the surrounding forests, but it was as if the earth had swallowed him whole. The only disturbing clue, a note found on top of Eagle Peak. Austin had written it the day he vanished. He admitted he was lost. He was disoriented. I can't feel my fingers. My glasses are fogged. I've never seen fog this thick. The wind, the rain, the snow. It's brutal. He described slipping across wet rocks, struggling up a false trail, and ending with a haunting line. I'm 22 years old, and I'll never forget this day for the rest of my life. Experts ruled out animal attacks. His last phone logs were normal. No panic, just cold and confusion. So, where did he go? And this is where a chilling theory emerges. What if Austin didn't just get lost? Some locals claim that stretch of Yellowstone is part of Bigfoot's territory, a region filled with strange sightings, howls in the night, and stories of people vanishing without a trace. The storm may have been real. But what if Austin saw something out there? Something watching, something waiting. As the search continued, rescue teams found something they didn't expect. A torn page from a journal tucked beneath a pile of stones. The handwriting was Austin's. I don't know where I am. I must have taken the wrong trail. I can't see much. The fog's thick. My fingers are numb. My goggles are fogged. My hands are freezing. I've never seen weather like this. Rain, snow, hail. The wind won't stop. I pushed through sharp rocks without ropes. And the last ridge was not even the right one. It was a dead end. I'm 22. I'll never forget this day as long as I live. The team started to consider every theory. Injury, hypothermia, even disorientation from altitude sickness. But one ranger, a 17-year park veteran, said something that rattled the group. We've had lost hikers before, but this. No tracks, no scent trail, no signs he ever left that camp. It's like the forest swallowed him whole. And it wasn't just the rangers. One of the search dogs refused to go past a certain grove just below the summit, growling, tail tucked, backing away in fear. Then came the footprint. Near a riverbed off trail, a drone operator noticed damage to the vegetation below. Snapped branches, mud streaks. A team went in and what they found stopped them cold. One massive human-like footprint. 18 inches long, five toes, no claw marks, no tread, and no matching tracks around it. Just one print as if something stepped down and disappeared. Some on the team laughed it off. A hoax. A weather warped mark. But others, especially locals, weren't so quick to dismiss it. Bigfoot. The old tales never really left Yellowstone. Rangers have whispered about strange sightings for decades. Huge shapes in the trees. Guttural howls in the night. Things that move faster than any bear. And now a young man vanishes without a trace. In Bigfoot territory. Even more chilling, a piece of Austin's jacket was found caught high in a pine tree, not low, 40 feet up. There were no signs of a climb, no nearby ledge, nothing that could have launched it that high. The storm grew worse. Visibility dropped. Whole parts of the park became unreachable. Maps showed blank zones, areas they couldn't enter without risking more lives. By October 2nd, the search was called off. Officially, they shifted to a recovery mission. They weren't looking for Austin anymore. They were expecting to find a body. But his father, Brian King, refused to quit. He thanked the rescue team, then made a vow. When the snow melts in spring 2025, he'll be back. And he'll go deeper than any search team ever did. What happened to Austin King is now more than a missing person's case. It's become one of Yellowstone's most unsettling mysteries. And the deeper they searched, the stranger it all became. Spring 2025. As the snow melted and the park reopened deeper trails, Brian King returned, this time with a private crew, drone gear, and satellite maps. He was determined, obsessed, and who could blame him? His son had vanished into thin air. They retraced every known point. Austin's route, his campsite, the ridge with the journal. They even attempted to reach the summit again, braving unpredictable weather. What they found,