1980 Oregon Boy's Close Sasquatch Encounter on Bike Ride

Posted Sunday, August 23, 2026

By Squatchable.com staff

A childhood encounter from the early 1980s that still haunts a man to this day—that's the kind of story that stops you in your tracks. Over on the Creek Devil YouTube channel, host William Jevning (a two-time witness and field researcher with over four decades of experience) sits down with a guest named Rob to unpack an experience that has clearly shaped his entire life. Rob was just ten years old when he and his buddy hopped on their bikes and rode east out of their small coastal hometown on the central Oregon coast. The town itself was a company-owned place that no longer exists, though it apparently had a reputation for sightings—reportedly over 60 of them, though Rob jokes that 59 came from a single guy, so take that with a grain of salt. Still, the area clearly has a history. The boys took an old jeep trail off a T-intersection, busted through a ditch, and immediately came upon a mud puddle. Slamming on the brakes, they looked up and found themselves face-to-face with a Sasquatch walking away from them at an angle, roughly 10 to 25 feet away. What makes this account particularly compelling is the detail Rob provides. He watched the figure for about five to seven steps—maybe ten seconds total—and noticed it was walking inside the ruts of the jeep trail. At the time, the significance didn't register, but later, after learning more about the intelligence of these beings, the implication became clear: it was deliberately hiding its footprints. The lighting description is fascinating too. Rob says the hair seemed to match whatever background it passed in front of—darker forest, then lighter areas—until the figure stepped into a beam of sunlight. That's when the shoulder exploded with color, shifting from brown to blondes and reds. He compares it to the color of deer, bark, and forest floor needles—a combination of everything. This kind of natural camouflage behavior is something researchers have noted anecdotally over the years, and it's one of those details that makes you wonder just how adapted these beings are to their environment. Rob is adamant about what he saw. Shoulders, long legs, fingers, feet—all visible in broad daylight at close range. No bear could account for what he witnessed. The encounter was so undeniable that it became a constant presence in his mind. The only break he ever got from thinking about it was puberty. What happened next is almost as intriguing as the sighting itself. Not long after, Rob woke up screaming in his bunk bed, claiming there was a Sasquatch in the window. His older brothers chalked it up to their uncle pranking them in a gorilla mask, but when Rob confronted his uncle years later, the uncle denied any involvement. Whether it was a nightmare or something more, Rob still can't say for certain—but he admits he still gets these dreams once or twice a year, and for years afterward, he couldn't sleep near a window. He'd crawl into his sister's closet and burrow under her clothes just to feel safe. The two boys never really talked about what they saw until a town reunion thirty years later. They beelined for each other, stepped aside, and the first thing his friend asked was, "Did we really see that?" That moment of shared validation after decades of silence is something many witnesses can relate to—the burden of carrying an unbelievable experience alone. Rob did eventually return to the site years later with his brother during a deer hunt, though that trip ended with a stampeding herd of elk crashing through the trees—a heart-pounding experience in its own right, but a story for another day. This is one of those interviews that really sticks with you. Rob's raw honesty about the psychological toll—the nightmares, the obsession, the feeling that it borders on insanity—gives a glimpse into what it's like to carry a sighting like this for a lifetime. Creek Devil is doing important work giving witnesses a platform to share their stories, and this one is absolutely worth the listen.