Florida Man Finds 14-Inch Bigfoot Tracks on His Property

There's something about a calm, matter-of-fact witness that always gets my attention, and a recent interview over on the Creek Devil YouTube channel had exactly that. Host William Jevnik, a two-time witness and field researcher with more than four decades of experience, sat down with a Florida man named Mason who had a string of unsettling experiences on his family's 14-acre property back in October of 2021. Mason lives in north central Florida, right between Jacksonville and Gainesville, in a small rural town called Stark in Bradford County. It's the kind of place where folks know their neighbors and the woods aren't far from the front porch. And that's where this story begins. It started with a walk around the property after some rain. Mason, a self-described country boy who always keeps an eye out for deer and hog tracks, spotted something that stopped him in his tracks. A single, very large, human-like footprint. He ran back to the house, grabbed his dad, and came back with a tape measure. The print came out to about 14 inches long. But it wasn't just the size that caught his attention. The front toe was huge and offset from the others, and the heel was narrow and elongated. The kind of detail that makes researchers sit up and take notice. They followed the tracks along the wood line for roughly 500 to 600 feet, weaving in and out of the trees, until the trail stopped near a large pond his father had dug. The sandy ground made it impossible to pick up the trail again, but the muddy area at the back end of the property gave them a clear look at that first print. Here's where it gets even more interesting. About a month before finding the tracks, Mason and his uncle were walking the same area when they caught a smell neither of them could quite place. He described it as pungent, sickly sweet, and musky. Not skunk. Not a dead animal. Just something that hung in the air for a moment and then disappeared. Anyone who's spent time in Sasquatch country knows that particular combination of descriptors comes up again and again in witness reports. A couple of weeks after the tracks were found, Mason, his dad, and his uncle were sitting on the front porch one night when they all heard it. A single, loud whooping sound he compared to a jumbo owl. Just one call, but enough to make everyone look at each other and decide it was time to head inside. Then came the sighting. About a week later, around 6:30 in the morning, Mason was driving to work and passed the cattle field that borders the wood line. That's when he saw it. Standing still. Jet black. Arms out in front of its body, sloping down. Back dipped inward. Not bulky like a gorilla, but filled out, evenly distributed, and well over 200 pounds by his estimate. He's 6'1" and said the figure stood several inches taller than him, though he wouldn't go as far as seven feet. The arms were the thing that really stuck with him. He said they looked as long as the rest of its body, almost as if the hands might have been touching the ground. The legs looked short and stocky, and the body seemed longer than the lower half. The hair wasn't shaggy or unkempt. He described it as streamlined, almost like a chimpanzee's coat, lying close to the body. The head looked pointed, almost acorn or pecan shaped. No facial features stood out, just that dark silhouette against the early morning haze. He drove about 500 feet down the road before turning around in a driveway to circle back. By the time he returned, it was gone. But he got enough of a look in those few seconds to know this wasn't a bear, wasn't a hog, and wasn't anything else he could explain away. What makes accounts like this one stand out is the layering. Tracks, an unusual odor, vocalizations, and then a visual encounter, all in the same general area over the span of a few weeks. That's a pattern researchers have documented countless times across North America, and Florida has quietly become one of the more active regions for sightings in recent years. The state's dense swamps, cattle pastures, and remote wood lines offer exactly the kind of cover a reclusive hominid would need. Mason came across as honest and grounded throughout the interview. He didn't embellish, didn't speculate wildly, and was clear about what he saw and what he didn't. The kind of witness who makes you lean in a little closer. If this kind of firsthand account is your thing, the full interview is worth your time. Jevnik has a way of letting his guests tell their story without rushing them, and Mason's got a lot more detail to share.