TERRIFYINGLY TRUE SASQUATCH & DOGMAN ENCOUNTERS

MONSTERS AMONG US: NIGHT AT THE ROADHOUSE, IDAHO
- ENCOUNTER

My name is Huck and I’ve been a trucker for over twenty years. Born and raised in Idaho, I’ve driven these roads more times than I can count. I’ve seen my fair share of weird things out there, but nothing quite like what happened one chilly November night at a roadhouse just off Highway 95.

I was hauling a load of potatoes down to Boise and decided to pull over for the night. The roadhouse was a popular spot for truckers—a small diner with a big parking lot, always a few rigs parked overnight. I found a spot near the back, turned off the engine, and settled in for some much-needed shut-eye.

The night was clear, and the air had a bite to it, a reminder that winter was here. The parking lot was quieter than usual, with only a few other trucks scattered around. I closed my eyes and tried to drift off, but for some reason, sleep wouldn’t come. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, I finally gave up and decided to get out and have a smoke.

I stepped out of the cab and lit up a cigarette, the ember glowing bright in the dark. The night was eerily quiet, not a sound except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. It was spooky, to be honest, like the calm before a storm. I looked around, seeing the dark shapes of the other trucks silhouetted against the dim glow of the roadhouse’s neon sign.

Something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I don’t get spooked easily, so I took a deep drag and tried to shake off the unease, chalking it up to being overtired. After a few minutes, I finished my cigarette, flicked the butt away, and climbed back into the truck. I laid back down, hoping sleep would come easier this time.

It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes later when I was jolted awake by a strange noise. It was a scraping sound, like something dragging across metal, followed by a blowing noise, almost like a deer makes. My heart started pounding in my chest, and I strained to listen. The noise stopped for a moment, then started up again, louder this time.

I sat up in my bunk, peering out the window. The parking lot was dark, and I couldn’t see much beyond the dim glow of the diner. The noise continued, scraping and blowing, unnerving me. I’d never heard anything like it before.

Out of my peripheral vision I saw movement between the trucks. At first, I thought it was a wolf, but something was seriously off. It was walking on two legs, hunched over, and had hands similar to a raccoon. It’s lower body was skinny but the top half looked like it was pure muscle.

I could only see it from the back, but it was enough to make my blood pressure skyrocket. It was slightly hunched as it sniffed the air, then it headed towards another truck parked a few spaces away.
Is that a freakin’ werewolf, I thought.

My brain whirled, attempting to process the sight before me. It looked like a wolf, but wolves don’t walk on two legs. I watched in horror as it reached the other truck, disappearing into the shadows. The blowing noise came again, louder and more insistent.

I wanted to get out of there, to start the engine and drive away as fast as I could, but I didn’t want it to notice me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. All I could do was sit there, heart pounding, eyes fixed on the spot where the creature had disappeared.

I am 55 years old and nothing has ever terrified me like that creature did.

After a while, the noise stopped. The night was silent again, and I tried to calm my breathing. I laid back down, pulling the blanket up to my chin, ears straining for any sound. I don’t know how long I lay there, tense and trembling, but eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to the harsh light of morning, the events of the night before feeling like a bad dream. But the unease was still there, a lingering sense of dread that wouldn’t go away. I climbed out of the truck, looking around the parking lot. Everything seemed normal, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching me.

I quickly did my pre-trip inspection, eager to get back on the road and put as much distance between me and that roadhouse as possible. As I pulled out of the lot, I vowed never to stop there again. Whatever that thing was, I didn’t want to see it again.

In the days and weeks that followed, I couldn’t stop thinking about that night. I tried to rationalize it, to convince myself that it was just my imagination, that I was overtired and seeing things. But deep down, I knew what I had seen was real. The memory of that creature, walking on two legs, its eerie movements, haunted me.

I dared to mention my sighting to a few other truckers, but most of them just laughed it off, thinking I was joking around. One old-timer though, stopped me as I was leaving and simply said “what you saw was real”.
I was a bit taken aback, but glad I wasn’t the only one that had seen this evil-looking creature.