He Tried Running From a Bigfoot Attack. What Happened Next Will Shock You – Sasquatch Story

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The Encounter: Derek Hullbrook’s Unforgettable Chase

A Life on Two Wheels

My name is Derek Hullbrook, and for most of my life, I’ve been a man of the trails. At 48 years old, I’m no stranger to the thrill of mountain biking. I was a professional downhill racer in the 90s, competing on some of the toughest courses in the world—Whistler, Moab, and the infamous Kamikaze at Mammoth Mountain. Those were exhilarating days, filled with adrenaline and the rush of speed. But everything changed in 1998 when a severe crash in British Columbia shattered my collarbone, broke three ribs, and left me with a concussion that had me seeing double for weeks.

After that, I transitioned into trail design and consultation. Using my knowledge of downhill racing, I helped create world-class mountain bike experiences for national parks and private landowners. In October 2003, I found myself in Mount Hood National Forest in Oregon, working on a project for a wealthy tech entrepreneur who wanted a private trail system. The terrain was perfect, and I was excited to create something special.

The Test Run

After three weeks of mapping routes and flagging trees, it was time for my first full test run of the main descent trail. It was a thrilling 3-mile downhill run that dropped nearly 1,500 feet in elevation. I had brought my pride and joy, a 2003 Specialized Enduro Comp full suspension bike, equipped with all the modifications a rider could dream of. This bike had cost me four grand and was worth every penny.

I parked my Toyota Tacoma at the bottom of the trail and drove my client’s Jeep Wrangler to the top. The trailhead started at an old logging road, long abandoned, and I clipped into my pedals, ready to fly down the mountain. The crisp October air was invigorating, and the forest was alive with vibrant fall colors. I clicked on my VIO point-of-view camera mounted on my helmet, eager to capture the ride for my client.

The First Signs

The first section of the trail was designed for flow, allowing riders to carry speed through smooth turns. As I navigated the course, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. The trail was perfect, and my bike hummed beneath me. Everything was going smoothly until I reached a section where I noticed something unusual—tracks on the trail.

These weren’t ordinary tracks; they were huge footprints, easily twice the size of a large man’s boot. I squeezed my brakes, slowing down to examine them. The prints were deep and fresh, showing clear weight distribution and distinct separation of toes. A chill ran down my spine. I had been riding these trails for weeks and had never encountered anything like this.

“Just a prank,” I muttered to myself, trying to dismiss the unease creeping in. But as I continued down the trail, the feeling of being watched grew stronger, and the air around me became thick with a strange musk, reminiscent of wet dog and something rotten.

The Chase Begins

Then I heard it—a sound crashing through the underbrush to my right. My heart raced as I realized something large was moving nearby. I stopped, straddling my bike, and turned my head toward the noise. That’s when I saw it—a massive creature, partially obscured by foliage, staring directly at me.

It was unlike anything I had ever seen. Its proportions were wrong; it had a prominent brow ridge, deep-set eyes, and a broad, flat nose. Before I could process what I was witnessing, it stood up, towering over me at nearly 8 feet tall. Panic surged through my body, and without thinking, I pedaled away as fast as I could.

The chase was on. The creature roared, a sound that echoed through the forest, and I felt the ground shake beneath its weight as it pursued me. I pedaled harder, my instincts kicking in as I navigated the trail, dodging trees and rocks. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

A Fight for Survival

I raced down the steep trail, pushing my bike to its limits. The creature was gaining on me, its heavy footfalls crashing through the underbrush. I hit jumps and rock gardens, desperately trying to put distance between us. The sound of its pursuit was terrifying, but I couldn’t afford to look back.

As I flew over a jump, I caught a glimpse of it behind me—massive and dark, effortlessly keeping pace. I could feel its presence, a primal force that sent chills down my spine. My mind raced with thoughts of what would happen if it caught me. I had to stay focused, keep moving, and find a way to escape.

The trail opened up into a meadow, and I knew I had to make a choice. I could either stay on the trail or veer off into the dense forest. I took a chance and cut hard left, crashing into the underbrush. The creature followed, its movements powerful and fluid. I stumbled through the forest, my heart racing as I pushed myself to keep going.

The Moment of Truth

I found a fallen log and dove behind it, pressing myself against the ground. The forest was eerily silent, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I peered through the foliage, watching as the creature emerged into the clearing, standing tall and imposing. It scanned the area, its dark eyes searching for me.

For a moment, we locked eyes, and I felt a strange connection—a recognition of sorts. Then, without warning, it turned and walked back into the forest. I lay there, trembling, unsure of what had just happened. Had it chosen to let me go?

After what felt like an eternity, I cautiously emerged from my hiding spot. I needed to get out of the forest, away from whatever that creature was. I followed the trail back toward my truck, my mind racing with questions. What had I seen? Was it really Bigfoot? And why had it spared me?

The Aftermath

When I finally reached my truck, I felt a mix of relief and disbelief. I had survived an encounter that would change my life forever. I checked my gear, ensuring everything was in place, and then I drove back to Portland, my mind swirling with thoughts of what had transpired.

Over the next few weeks, I struggled to process the experience. I replayed the moments in my mind, the chase, the creature, and the eerie connection we had shared. I decided to keep the footage I had recorded, knowing it was proof of something extraordinary. But I also knew that sharing it would change everything.

I reached out to Ranger Chen, who had once mentioned the stories of Bigfoot sightings in the area. I needed someone who understood the weight of what I had witnessed. When I told her my story, she listened intently, acknowledging the reality of the situation without judgment.

“You’re not the first to see something unusual out there,” she said. “But you have to be careful. Once you share that footage, it opens up a whole new world of attention—hunters, scientists, and the curious.”

The Decision

As I contemplated what to do with the footage, I felt a sense of responsibility. The creatures I had encountered deserved protection. They had shown me mercy, and I couldn’t betray that trust. I decided to keep the footage secure, stashing it away and ensuring it would remain locked away unless absolutely necessary.

Years passed, and I continued to live my life, but the memory of that encounter remained vivid. I watched news stories about Bigfoot sightings, often dismissing them as hoaxes or misunderstandings. But deep down, I knew the truth. I had seen something real, something that defied explanation.

In 2010, I received a newspaper clipping in the mail about Richard, my former client, donating his land to a wildlife conservation trust. It was a moment of vindication, knowing that my decision to protect the creatures was the right one.

Conclusion

Now, at 61, I reflect on that day in October 2003. The encounter with the creature changed everything for me. It taught me that the world is filled with mysteries, some of which are better left unsolved. I never believed in Bigfoot until I faced one, and now I understand that some truths are too dangerous to share.

I keep the footage safe, a reminder of the wildness that still exists in the world. As I check on it each year, I’m grateful for the choice I made to protect those creatures. They chose mercy, and I intend to honor that trust for the rest of my life. The forests remain their sanctuary, and I will carry their secret with me, always aware of the mysteries that lie just beyond the veil of the known.