Growing up, I lived in the suburbs of Nashville, Tennessee.

In the center of our neighborhood was a large outcropping of woods, which was about 350 acres total.

On one side of the woods was a small bit of farmland. Bordering on the other sides

were neighborhoods in the highways. The woods were made up of two large hills with a stream

intersecting them. At the peaks of both hills were two houses and a long strip of driveway

joining the houses and providing a route out of the woods.

All in all, it was a decent-sized portion of wilderness with various connecting sections that eventually led to the Cumberland Plateau.

It's not the typical place you'd imagine having Bigfoot experience, given that it isn't rural and there are so many houses, but that's what I believe happened.

I can't say with absolute uncertainty, but these combined experiences were definitely out of the ordinary.

They turned me from someone who did not care about or believe in Bigfoot into someone

who was utterly fascinated by the subject. My first experience was on a chilly overcast fall day

when I was 10 years old. My dad and I were having a lazy Sunday watching football when we got a little bit bored and decided to take a hike in the woods.

We made our way through the forest, taking time to appreciate this small patch of isolation in an otherwise urban area.

The woods were quiet and eerily absent of wildlife everywhere.

Other than an isolated chirp from a bird or limbs breaking below our feet, there was silence

all around us.

As we traversed deeper, we started to lose our bearings until we ultimately came upon the

aforementioned stream.

We decided to follow it. As we crested the land where it divided,

we encountered that section of driveway that I mentioned earlier.

We then decided we would simply follow the driveway down to whichever street it led to.

We didn't want to trespass on someone else's

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