Mysterious Disappearance: A Tourist Vanishes in the Snowy Appalachians, Leaving Only Huge Footprints Behind!

In February 1997, a 32-year-old hiker from Virginia set out on a solo winter hike through a remote section of the Appalachian Mountains in North Carolina. Four days later, he had not returned. Rescuers found his camp untouched: the tent still standing, the fire burned out, and tracks leading to a stream that ended abruptly. A week later, three miles from the camp, his backpack was found abandoned on a fir tree branch, twelve feet above the ground. Under the tree in the snow was a single, massive footprint—46 cm long with five toes, but no claws. Michael Harrison’s body was never found, even after the snow melted in the spring. The official version cited hypothermia, but classified documents mentioned a discovery of unknown origin.

The Hiker

Michael Harrison worked as a software engineer for a company in Richmond, Virginia. In his spare time, he enjoyed hiking in the Appalachian Mountains. Over the past five years, he had walked hundreds of miles of trails from Georgia to Maine. Colleagues and friends described him as an experienced hiker who carefully planned his routes and never neglected safety precautions.

In early February 1997, Harrison took a week’s vacation and decided to embark on a winter hike along the Blue Ridge Parkway in Buncombe County, North Carolina. This scenic mountain road stretches over 400 miles through the Appalachian Mountains. In winter, most of the road is closed to traffic due to snow, but hiking trails remain accessible to prepared tourists.

Harrison chose a little-traveled section between the towns of Mount Mitchell and Caneland, where the trail passed through dense fir forests at an altitude of 4,000 to 5,000 feet. His plan was to walk about 20 miles in three days, spending two nights in a tent before returning to his car and driving to Asheville.

On the morning of February 7th, Harrison left his blue 1994 Ford Explorer in the parking lot at the trailhead next to the empty visitor center. He filled out the standard hike registration form, indicating his route and expected return date of February 10th. This was a mandatory safety measure for anyone going on a winter hike in these mountains. He left spare food, a thermos of coffee, and a notebook in the car, with the last entry dated February 6th detailing his route plan and checkpoints.

The weather that day was typical for the Appalachian winter, with a temperature of about -7°C, light snow, and good visibility. The forecast promised stable weather for the next three to four days without heavy snowfall or sudden cold snaps.

Harrison was equipped for a winter hike, wearing a warm jacket, thermal underwear, and trekking boots with ice spikes. His sleeping bag was rated for temperatures down to -20°C, and he carried a four-season tent. His backpack contained four days’ worth of food, a gas burner, a pot, a first aid kit, a knife, a compass, topographic maps, a headlamp with spare batteries, a whistle, and a signal mirror. Notably, Harrison did not have a cell phone; in 1997, service in remote mountain areas was virtually non-existent.

The First Day

The first day of the hike passed without incident. Harrison walked about eight miles along a snow-covered trail, gradually climbing along the ridge. The trail was well marked with blue markers on the trees, although in some places, the snow hid the path, requiring him to navigate using maps. By the evening of February 7th, he set up camp on a small clearing off the main trail, sheltered from the wind by rocks and dense fir trees. It was one of the recommended places to spend the night marked on his topographic map.

He lit a fire, cooked dinner, and climbed into his sleeping bag in the tent. The night was peaceful, the forest alive with sounds.

The Disappearance

February 8th arrived, and after breakfast, Harrison continued on his way. According to his plan, he had to walk another ten miles to the second place to spend the night near a small mountain stream. The trail became more challenging, with steep ascents and descents, and sections with icy rocks requiring caution. Somewhere along the way, something went wrong, but what exactly? No one knows.

Harrison did not return by the appointed time. On February 11th, National Park Ranger Jacob Miller checked tourist registration forms and discovered that Michael Harrison had not returned from his hike. The return deadline had passed the day before. Miller drove to the parking lot at the trailhead and found the blue Ford Explorer in the same spot where it had been left four days earlier.

Miller looked through the car windows. Inside, on the back seat, was a bag of groceries and a thermos. On the front passenger seat was a notebook. The car was locked, and there were no signs that Harrison had returned. The ranger immediately activated the missing hiker protocol. By the evening of February 11th, the first search party of eight people had been assembled—rangers, volunteers from the local search and rescue service, and experienced hiking guides familiar with the area.

The Search Begins

On the morning of February 12th, the searchers set off on the route indicated on Harrison’s registration form. The weather had deteriorated, with moderate snowfall and a drop in temperature to -12°C. Visibility was about 50 yards. The group moved quickly but cautiously, examining the trail and surrounding area. Every half hour, they stopped and used whistles and loud shouts, hoping to elicit a response from the missing hiker. There was no response.

By midday on February 12th, the searchers reached the site of Harrison’s first overnight stay. There were no traces of the camp left, as fresh snow had covered everything. According to the description in the form, it was a clearing near the rocks, sheltered by fir trees. The searchers carefully examined the area but found no signs of anything unusual. They continued along the trail, but the snowfall intensified.

By 4:00 p.m., visibility had dropped to 20 yards. The search coordinator decided to return to base and continue the operation the next day under better conditions.

Renewed Efforts

February 13th brought improved weather. The temperature remained around -10°C, the snowfall stopped, and the sky cleared. The search party grew to 15 people, with service dogs joining the operation. Two German Shepherds trained to search for people in winter conditions were given Harrison’s jacket, found in his car, to sniff. The dogs picked up the scent and led the guides along the trail in the same direction as the day before.

About two miles from the site of the first night’s camp, the dogs turned off the main trail and headed for a small natural clearing in the middle of a dense spruce forest. Michael Harrison’s camp was discovered in the clearing. The tent was intact and properly set up, with the entrance zipped shut. Inside was a neatly rolled sleeping bag. Next to the tent was a fire pit, the remains of burnt logs covered with snow. Judging by the amount of ash and coals, the fire had burned for several hours. Near the fire lay a gas burner, a pot with the remains of frozen porridge, and a mug.

A few feet from the tent, an axe was stuck in a stump for chopping wood. It looked as if the hiker had eaten breakfast, put out the fire, and left for a short time, planning to return. But Harrison himself was gone.

The Footprints

Around the camp, the tracks of hiking boots were clearly visible in the snow. The searchers carefully studied the direction of the tracks. They led from the tent to the campfire and then toward a small stream about 50 yards from the clearing. The group followed the tracks.

The boot prints were clear in the fresh snow, indicating Harrison had been walking confidently without rushing. The distance between the tracks was normal, not indicating running or panic. The depth of the prints corresponded to a person weighing about 170 pounds walking at a normal pace. The tracks approached the stream—a narrow waterway about 6 feet wide flowing between rocks. The water was not completely frozen due to the current. The tracks approached the very edge of the bank and disappeared on the rocks by the water.

The searchers carefully examined both banks of the stream for 100 yards upstream and downstream. No tracks were found on the opposite bank. There were no footprints in the snow to indicate that Harrison had crossed the stream and continued on. The water was cold but shallow, knee-deep at most. They checked the bottom for slippery rocks that could have caused him to slip and fall. The rocks were stable, and the current was moderate. Even if he had fallen into the water, he could have easily gotten out.

The search coordinator ordered a thorough search of the area around the camp within a quarter-mile radius. Twenty people spread out across the grid, examining every meter of the snow-covered forest. They looked for signs of human presence, footprints, broken branches, scraps of clothing, or traces of blood. They found nothing—only that single footprint and the backpack on the tree.

The Search Continues

The search continued for another week. They checked every ravine, cave, and abandoned gold rush mine within a ten-mile radius. They used a helicopter for aerial surveillance, although the dense forest cover severely limited visibility. Michael Harrison was not found. By the end of February, the intensive search was called off. The park service announced it was switching to monitoring mode, with rangers continuing to survey the area during their regular patrols.

In the spring, when the snow melted, additional searches were conducted in areas that were inaccessible in winter. They checked the beds of streams that could have carried the body away. There were no results. Harrison’s backpack and a plaster cast of the footprint were sent for examination.

Experts from the University of North Carolina studied the findings. The backpack showed no damage indicating an animal attack; the fabric was intact, and the zippers worked. The footprint cast raised more questions than it answered. A biologist specializing in Appalachian fauna confirmed that the footprint did not belong to a bear or any other large mammal in the region. The anatomical structure of the foot was similar to that of a human, but the size did not match that of Homo sapiens. In a confidential report, the expert wrote, “The origin of the footprint cannot be determined based on known species. Further research is required.”

The Official Report

The park service compiled an official report on the death of the tourist in March 1997. The cause was probable hypothermia or a fall into a crevasse, followed by death. The body was not found, and the case was closed. Harrison’s family did not accept the official version. They hired a private investigator who conducted his own investigation in April. The detective interviewed all participants in the search, studied photographs of the footprint, and visited the scene.

His conclusions were cautious. Harrison’s disappearance contained elements that could not be explained by standard accident logic. Rumors began to spread among the residents of Buncombe County. Many recalled old stories of encounters with a large bipedal creature deep in the Appalachian Mountains. Hunters spoke of strange tracks they had found in remote areas. Gamekeepers mentioned nighttime cries that did not resemble the voices of known animals.

One of the old-timers from the town of Mount Mitchell, 75-year-old Harvey Johnson, told a reporter for a local newspaper that his grandfather had seen a similar creature back in the 1930s—a huge hairy figure walking on two legs, watching people from behind the trees. His grandfather called it a forest man and warned him not to go into certain parts of the mountains alone.

The park service did not comment on such stories publicly, but internal documents showed that management took the situation seriously. Rangers were advised to patrol remote areas in pairs, especially in winter. Tourists were more strongly advised not to go on solo hikes on less-traveled trails.

In May 1997, two tourists reported hearing strange cries at night in the area where Harrison had disappeared. They described the sound as a long howl, unlike that of a wolf or bear—deeper and almost human. Rangers investigated the report but found nothing unusual. Harrison’s camp and the location where his backpack was found were not officially closed to visitors, but rangers began redirecting hikers to other trails, citing safety and conservation concerns.

Michael Harrison’s body was never found. His name was added to the long list of people who had vanished in the mysterious depths of the Appalachian Mountains, leaving behind only questions and chilling tales of what might lurk in the shadows of the ancient trees.