Mysterious Alberta Roar and New York Bigfoot Encounters Shared

A hunting guide with serious woods experience recently opened up about some spine-tingling encounters on a YouTube channel, and one of the stories is the kind of childhood memory that sticks with a person for life. The video kicks off with the host going through his usual morning routine—coffee, letting the dog out, talking about trail cameras and an upcoming elk hunt. He's got his sights set on a big bull Roosevelt elk he's been tracking for years, picking up solo tracks in the same spot season after season. That kind of patience and observation is exactly what makes a good woodsman, and it sets the tone for what's coming later. But then things take a turn into the unexplained. About five years back, someone from Alberta sent him a recording from a woodcutter working just south of Fort McMurray. The sound is wild—almost lion-like with this eerie echo bouncing off the mountains, but there's also this shrieking quality mixed in that doesn't fit any known animal. The host points out that African lions wouldn't produce that kind of echo in Canadian terrain, and the recording hasn't shown up anywhere else online despite years of content thieves reposting everything they can get their hands on. That's a pretty compelling point. If it were from a movie or some hoax, it would've been recycled a thousand times by now. The shortness of the sound is also interesting—he notes it doesn't have that long, drawn-out lung capacity you'd expect from something massive. It's a quick burst of pure terror, and the person who recorded it was apparently shaken to their core. Then comes the real meat of the video. A guy named Mark submitted a story titled "Memory from Childhood," and it's a doozy. When Mark was just seven years old, living on a dead-end road next to a gravel pit in upstate New York, he walked outside and spotted something standing motionless in the tree line. About 40 feet away, skylined against the gravel pit, was a figure standing roughly eight feet tall with shoulders around four feet wide, completely black with no noticeable neck. He froze and stared at it for at least a minute before running inside to tell his father. His dad didn't believe him—in fact, days later, his father ran out of the bush trying to scare him, and Mark remembers thinking his dad had missed the real thing that had been standing right there. Years later, Mark was camping with friends in the Adirondack Mountains, off-trail in a remote spot near Keen Valley with a beaver dam and trout stream. He stayed behind at camp while the others hiked, and decided to do some fishing. While moving between bends in the shallow stream, he took one step and something violently bluff charged him from the left. No vocals—just limbs snapping and breaking as whatever it was crashed away through the woods. He didn't piece together what had happened until years later, but the memory of that moment stuck with him. That second encounter has all the hallmarks of a defensive display. Bluff charges are a well-documented behavior among Sasquatch researchers—short, aggressive rushes meant to intimidate rather than engage. The lack of vocalizations during the charge itself is also consistent with many witness reports, where the sounds come before or after, not during the rush. The Adirondacks have a long history of Sasquatch sightings, and upstate New York in general has produced plenty of credible reports over the years. The Mohawk River area where Mark grew up isn't far from some pretty remote timber, and a gravel pit would have been a natural draw for wildlife of all kinds. The childhood encounter is particularly striking because of the details—an eight-foot-tall, broad-shouldered, neckless figure standing perfectly still and allowing itself to be observed for a full minute before the witness fled. That kind of stillness is something researchers hear about over and over. Whether it's curiosity, assessment, or just a natural behavior, it's one of the most reported aspects of these encounters. Definitely worth checking out the full video. The sound recording alone is worth the listen, and Mark's story deserves to be heard in full.