Vanished into Thin Air: An 86-Year-Old Hunter Entered the San Juan Forest—and Never Walked Out
There is a specific, heavy silence that descends upon the San Juan National Forest in Colorado—a silence that feels less like peace and more like a held breath. In October 2019, Alby Webb, an 86-year-old veteran hunter who had navigated these rugged terrains for decades, walked into that silence and never came out. He didn’t just get lost; he was effectively erased. No footprints, no scraps of clothing, no signs of struggle. His disappearance launched a mystery that would soon collide with unmarked black helicopters, colossal claw marks, and a reality far more terrifying than any folklore.
For those who know the wilderness, the San Juans are a masterclass in beauty and danger. But for Alby Webb’s companions—men who knew every survival trick in the book—his vanishing defied the laws of nature. One moment he was there, moving through the brush with the practiced ease of an elite woodsman; the next, he was gone. A massive search effort involving heat-sensing helicopters and elite K9 units found nothing. It was as if the forest itself had opened up and swallowed him whole.
I. The Silent Arrival
One month after Alby Webb vanished, a hunter named Tommy Miller (known to the online community as wardickb) unknowingly set up camp with his family in the heart of the “hot zone” where Webb was last seen. They were seasoned outdoorsmen, confident in their rifles and their grit. But that confidence began to erode on their very first night.
Out of the obsidian sky came the low, rhythmic thrum of a helicopter.
The Ghost Flight: The aircraft had no navigation lights. It flew dangerously low, circling their campsite multiple times in complete darkness.
The Physical Paradox: Despite being low enough to see a silhouette inside, Miller noted a chilling detail—there was no “rotor wash.” The trees beneath the craft didn’t sway; the campfire didn’t flicker. It moved with a silent, unnatural grace.
The next night, the phantom returned, repeating the same eerie surveillance pattern before vanishing into the mountain mists. Miller realized they weren’t just camping; they were being watched.
II. The Signature of the Colossal
As the trip progressed, the “standard” sounds of the forest were replaced by something primal. They heard heavy, bipedal footsteps crashing through the undergrowth and eerie, guttural vocalizations that mirrored no known animal in the North American catalog.
Later, while watching a survival documentary by Les Stroud (Survivorman), Miller saw something that made his blood run cold. Stroud explained that bears typically mark trees at a height of five to six feet. Miller flashed back to the trees near his camp in the San Juans.
The High Marks: He had seen—and photographed—deep, vertical gashes in the bark at heights of 10 to 16 feet.
The Impossibility: No grizzly or black bear reaches those heights. Whatever had raked its claws down those trunks was a creature of colossal proportions, standing nearly twice the height of a man.
III. The Halyard Connection: Cover-ups and Black Ops
The mystery deepened when Miller connected his experience with reports from a Bigfoot researcher in the area. The researcher claimed that sightings in the region had plummeted exactly when “too many people” began camping there. But more disturbingly, he reported hearing heavy gunfire echoing through the valleys, followed immediately by the arrival of the same unmarked black helicopters Miller had seen.
These weren’t rescue missions. These were “sweeps.”
In the American West, black helicopters are often the heralds of a darker phenomenon: Cattle Mutilations. For decades, ranchers in Colorado and Utah (near the infamous Skinwalker Ranch) have reported livestock found dead with surgical precision—organs removed with laser-like accuracy, blood completely drained, and not a single predator track in the vicinity. Every time these “surgical” kills occur, unmarked aircraft are spotted circling the area hours later.
IV. The Terrifying Truth of Alby Webb
When you place Alby Webb’s disappearance into this framework, the picture becomes sinister. Webb was an expert. He wouldn’t have fallen off a cliff or succumbed to a simple injury without leaving a trace.
Was Webb a victim of the “Colossal” that left its mark sixteen feet up the trees? Or did he stumble upon a clandestine “collection” operation involving the black helicopters?
In the phenomenon known as Missing 411, victims often disappear from “high-energy” locations under impossible circumstances. They vanish in seconds, often in areas that have been searched dozens of times, only for their belongings to be found much later in inaccessible places—or never found at all. Alby Webb fits the 411 profile perfectly: an experienced individual who was “wiped” from the map.
V. Return to the San Juans
Tommy Miller hasn’t let the mystery go. He plans to return to the San Juan National Forest, but this time, he is treating it like a combat zone. He is arming himself with:
High-Powered Rifles: For protection against the “Colossal.”
GPS Trackers: To prevent the “silent erasing” that took Alby Webb.
Professional Recording Gear: To capture the silent helicopters that defy physics.
The San Juan National Forest remains one of the most beautiful places on Earth, but it carries a warning for those who dare to enter. Alby Webb is still out there—or at least, the truth of what happened to him is. Stay alert. Stay with your group. And if you hear a silent thrum in the night or see claw marks twice your height, do not wait for the “sweep” to arrive.
