When my father was young, his grandfather took him to work on his day off so that the boy could see what he did for a living.

He worked in the logging industry near Eureka, California.

They arrived not long after daylight,

and they walked on a newly cut logging road.

The road was soft and dusty.

My father was overwhelmed by the size of the trees

and the vastness of the place where his grandfather worked.

As they walked, they approached the door. of the place where his grandfather worked.

As they walked they approached the dozer that had cut the road in the day before.

Again, my father was amazed at the piece of equipment that could be this big. His grandfather noticed tracks in the dusty road. They

exited the forest, made a circle around the dozer, and went back into the forest. My father was young then so by the time he told us the story he could only remember vaguely what he saw.

He remembered vividly that the tracks looked human and that the person who left them wore no shoes.

But the tracks were too big to be human. And he also remembered his grandfather saying that someone left these tracks as a joke.

They weren't real tracks.

A local newspaper did a story on it.

We later researched the story but couldn't find the story archived in the

library nor on the internet. When we would question my father about the

incident he would become agitated and he would change the subject.

Years later he was with a group in California hunting black-tailed deer.

They camped and hunted for several days.

Sometime after dark when the fire was low,

they were startled by the sounds of monkey-type screams

...