‘Our Drone Captured BIGFOOT and It Hunted Us For It’ – DISTURBING BIGFOOT STORY

The Siege at Snow Pine Cabin

A True Encounter in the Montana Wilderness

Chapter 1: Into the Wild

I still can’t believe what happened to us out there. My best friend from high school and I went on what was supposed to be a simple winter camping trip. Just the two of us, getting away from everything for a week. We thought it would be relaxing—maybe get some cool drone footage of the snowy forest.

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Instead, we ended up spending the longest night of our lives barricaded in a back room, listening to massive creatures trying to break down our cabin door. I’m not ashamed to say it: I was more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life. There were moments that night when I genuinely thought we weren’t going to make it home.

We’d been planning this trip for months. Both of us had been working our asses off all year and wanted to get away before the holidays hit. My buddy had just bought an expensive new drone and was dying to test it out somewhere with amazing scenery. We found this remote cabin rental about four hours north of where we live, way out in the middle of nowhere. The listing said the nearest neighbor was over twenty miles away, which sounded perfect.

Chapter 2: The Perfect Escape

We drove up on a Friday in early December. The journey took us deeper and deeper into wilderness—past the last gas station, past the last cell tower, past any sign of civilization. The snow was already thick on the ground, maybe two feet deep in most places, and just kept getting deeper as we climbed in elevation.

The cabin was exactly what we’d hoped for: old but well-maintained, with a wood-burning stove, basic kitchen, and two small bedrooms. It sat in a clearing surrounded by dense pine forest, completely isolated. The nearest neighbor really was twenty miles away. Standing on the front porch, all you could see in every direction was wilderness. No cell service, no internet, no sounds except wind in the trees and the occasional bird call.

The silence was unsettling at first. Both of us are used to city noise, traffic, sirens, people talking. Out here, the quiet was so complete it felt almost oppressive. But after the first day, we started to appreciate it. No work calls, no social media notifications—just peace.

Chapter 3: Winter Rituals

The first few days were exactly what you’d expect from a guys’ trip. We spent most of our time hanging out, talking about the old days, catching up on life. My buddy works in IT now, married with a kid on the way. He’s got his life figured out in a way that makes me a little jealous. I’m still single, working construction, trying to figure out what I want long term.

We went ice fishing on a small lake about half a mile from the cabin. The ice was thick enough to walk on, maybe eight inches deep, crystal clear in some spots where you could see all the way to the bottom. Neither of us caught anything worth keeping, but it was relaxing just being out there. We set up folding chairs, drilled our holes, and spent hours in the cold talking about everything and nothing.

The walk to the lake became a daily routine. We’d pack coffee, follow a little trail through the trees, marveling at the pristine snow except for animal tracks—deer, rabbits, what looked like fox prints, even some old wolf tracks. We gathered firewood, explored the forest, and found evidence of wildlife everywhere. Once, we found a daybed where something large had been sleeping—a depression in the snow surrounded by broken branches.

Chapter 4: The Drone

But the main attraction was the drone. My friend had spent serious money on it—professional grade, with a 4K camera and all the latest features. The battery life was incredible, the camera could zoom without losing image quality, and it was stable enough to get smooth footage even in wind. He’d brought multiple batteries, a portable charging station, and backup SD cards. This was going to be the centerpiece of our trip.

On our third day, the weather was perfect for flying: clear skies, minimal wind, and the snow had created an amazing winter landscape. We bundled up and hiked a quarter mile from the cabin to an open area with good visibility.

My friend went through his pre-flight checklist like a real pilot. The drone itself was impressive—matte black, about the size of a dinner plate, with four rotors and a gimbal-mounted camera. The first twenty minutes were incredible. The drone’s camera captured everything in stunning detail: endless white forest, mountain peaks, frozen streams. From above, you could see how isolated we were—no roads, no power lines, just pure wilderness.

Chapter 5: The Shape in the Trees

We started out flying high, getting sweeping panoramic shots, then brought the drone lower, weaving between trees for close-ups. The level of detail was incredible—branches heavy with snow, icicles on rock outcroppings, small animals moving through the underbrush. The wildlife didn’t seem bothered by the drone. We got amazing footage of a hawk and a curious fox.

As we got more comfortable, we started flying more daring patterns, following frozen streams, threading between rocks. We decided to explore a denser section of forest about half a mile away. The trees were packed tightly, creating a maze. But from above, you could see game trails winding through the forest.

That’s when we spotted the deer—three of them moving single file through a clearing. My friend maneuvered the drone to get a better angle, zooming in to capture them browsing for food. We watched for several minutes, fascinated by their behavior.

And that’s when we saw it.

At first, we thought it was another person. The shape was moving upright through the trees, maybe two hundred yards from the deer. But that didn’t make sense. We were supposed to be the only people for miles, and whoever it was wasn’t wearing any bright colors like hunters do.

My friend zoomed the camera in as far as it would go. The image was a little grainy, but we could make out a dark figure moving between the trees. It was walking on two legs, but the proportions were all wrong—too tall, too broad across the shoulders. And it was moving through snow that would come up to our waists like it was nothing, taking long, easy strides.

Chapter 6: The Encounter

The more we watched, the more unsettled we became. This thing was massive—easily seven or eight feet tall, maybe taller. Its arms hung down further than they should, almost reaching its knees. The shoulders were incredibly broad, giving it a triangular silhouette. And the way it moved was wrong—not clumsy, but fluid and coordinated, picking its way through the forest with surprising grace.

For maybe five minutes, we got perfect footage of it moving between the trees. Occasionally it stopped to examine something on the ground. The detail was incredible. We could see it was covered in dark fur from head to toe, almost black, with lighter patches. The arms were longer than human, the head elongated and sloped. When it turned, we caught a glimpse of its profile—the head was wrong, the nose flattened and wide, the mouth too big for the face.

But the eyes were the worst part. They had intelligence behind them, a calculating awareness. For maybe three seconds, creature and camera stared at each other. The drone hovered motionless, its camera locked onto the creature’s face. Then it ran—faster than anything I’ve ever seen, crashing through the forest like a freight train, moving with purpose, following a route that seemed to take it toward our cabin.

Chapter 7: The Realization

My friend immediately pulled the drone back, bringing it up higher and away from where the creature had been. We were both shaking, partly from cold, but mostly from adrenaline and fear. We’d just had a close encounter with something that wasn’t supposed to exist. And now it knew we were here.

The flight back felt like it took forever. We kept scanning the forest below, looking for signs of movement. When we finally landed the drone, we stood there in silence, trying to process what we’d witnessed. Did we really just see what we think we saw?

When we got back to the cabin, we immediately reviewed the footage. The quality was even better than what we’d seen on the tablet during the flight. Every detail was crystal clear. The creature’s size, its movements, the way it had looked directly at the camera before running. We must have watched those few minutes of video fifty times, trying to convince ourselves we were seeing something else. But there was no denying it. This was real, and it was massive.

Chapter 8: The Warning

Our excitement about the footage started turning into worry. This creature knew there were people in its territory now. It had seen the drone, which meant it knew approximately where we were staying. And we still had four more days left on our cabin rental.

We decided to walk around the cabin and check for any signs that we might have company. The sun was getting low, the temperature dropping fast. We put on our heaviest winter gear and started a careful patrol. What we found made our blood run cold.

In the snow around the cabin, maybe thirty yards out, there were tracks—huge footprints, each almost twice the size of our boots, pressed deep into the snow. The impressions were incredibly detailed. You could see individual toe marks, even what looked like claw marks at the tips of the toes. But that wasn’t the worst part. There were at least three different sets of tracks, maybe four. The footprints were slightly different sizes and shapes, which meant we weren’t dealing with just one creature. There was a whole group of them, and they knew exactly where we were staying.

The tracks formed a rough circle around the building, like something had been walking around the perimeter, checking us out.

Chapter 9: The Siege

The weather started getting bad around sunset. Wind picked up, then snow began falling in thick, heavy flakes. Within an hour, it was a full blizzard. The kind of storm where you can’t see more than ten feet in any direction. We moved everything important into one of the bedrooms—phones, the laptop with the footage, extra batteries, some food and water. More importantly, we wanted everything in one defensible location.

The wind was howling around the building, making it creak and groan in ways that seemed ominous. Every noise from outside made us jump, wondering if it was just the storm or something else moving around in the darkness.

Around 8:00, the wind started dying down. Now we could hear other sounds—branches creaking, snow sliding off the roof, the cabin settling in the cold. And underneath it all, we started to notice something else: footsteps. At first we thought it was just the wind, but the sounds had a rhythm—a deliberate pattern that didn’t match the random chaos of the storm.

Something was walking around outside the cabin, moving slowly and carefully through the deep snow. The footsteps continued for fifteen minutes, circling the building. But this time, they seemed closer, more deliberate. Whatever was out there wasn’t just investigating. It was planning something.

Chapter 10: The Attack

The sound stopped right outside the living room window. Through the swirling snow, we saw a shape—massive and dark, standing maybe fifteen feet from the cabin, just watching. It didn’t move for several minutes, just stood there like a statue while the blizzard raged. We couldn’t make out details, but we could tell it was huge, taller than the window, broader than any human could be.

Then another shape appeared near the corner, and another near the back door. We were surrounded. The creatures stood there in the storm, watching the cabin, occasionally moving but maintaining their positions. They weren’t hiding anymore. They wanted us to know they were there.

Finally, as the storm intensified again, the shapes faded back into the darkness. But we both knew they hadn’t gone far.

Around midnight, the real terror began. The first bang on the door sounded like someone hitting it with a sledgehammer. The whole cabin shook. Then another bang, and another, like something was trying to break down the door through sheer force. Between the impacts, we could hear growling—not like any animal I’d ever heard before, but something deeper, more resonant, almost human but distorted and amplified.

Chapter 11: Barricade

We grabbed our phones and the laptop and ran for the back bedroom, slamming the door and turning the lock. Then we started moving furniture—the dresser, the bed, anything we could push against the door and window. The bedroom was small, with just one window facing the back of the cabin. If these things wanted to get in, this room might buy us a few extra minutes.

The banging on the front door continued for ten minutes, getting more violent each time. We could hear wood starting to splinter, the sound of metal hinges being stressed beyond their limits. These creatures weren’t just strong, they were incredibly strong.

Then something changed. The banging stopped and we heard what sounded like voices outside—not human voices, but communication of some kind. Low, rumbling sounds that rose and fell like conversation. They were talking to each other, planning something.

Then we heard the front door crash open. The sound was like an explosion—wood splintering, metal tearing. The footsteps echoed through the living room, slow and deliberate. Whatever was in there was huge. We could feel the floorboards vibrating, hear the walls creaking as it moved.

Chapter 12: The Longest Night

Then came the sound of destruction—furniture overturned, dishes smashed, the couch ripped apart. It wasn’t random. It was systematic, like the creature was searching for something or working out its frustration on our belongings. We could hear multiple sets of footsteps, at least two, maybe three, moving through the cabin, communicating with those low, rumbling sounds.

The destruction continued for what felt like hours, but was probably only fifteen or twenty minutes. The footsteps moved through the cabin, getting closer to where we were hiding. One set stopped right outside our bedroom door. We could hear breathing on the other side—deep and heavy. The door handle turned slowly, testing the lock. When it didn’t open, there was a low growl and claws scraping against the wood, long, deliberate scratches.

For what felt like an eternity, the creature just stood there. We could see shadows moving under the door. It knew we were in there. But for some reason, it didn’t try to break down this door. Maybe it was savoring our fear, enjoying the psychological torture.

Finally, after what must have been twenty minutes, the footsteps moved away. We heard more destruction, then the sound of the creatures leaving through the broken front door. But we didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. We just sat there in the dark, wondering if they were really gone or if this was just another test.

Chapter 13: Dawn

We didn’t sleep at all that night. The storm picked up again, snow hitting the windows. Around 2:00 a.m., we heard them again—footsteps in the snow outside, more careful, more deliberate, like they were conducting a more thorough investigation now that they’d seen inside. At one point, we heard claws scraping against the metal roof, like one of them was climbing around up there.

The psychological warfare continued. Just when we’d start to relax, thinking they’d moved on, we’d hear something else—a scratch at the window, footsteps on the porch, that low, rumbling communication. They wanted us to know they were still there, still watching.

Around 5:00 a.m., the snow stopped, leaving behind an eerie quiet. When the first light of dawn started filtering through the window, we finally worked up the courage to move the furniture away from the door.

The living room looked like a tornado had hit it. The couch was flipped and torn open, the coffee table smashed, the television thrown across the room, claw marks gouged into the walls. The kitchen was wrecked, cabinets ripped off, food scattered, the refrigerator pushed over. The drone was destroyed, but my friend still had the SD card in his pocket.

Chapter 14: Escape

The message was clear. We weren’t welcome here, and we needed to leave. We didn’t waste any time packing up what little we could salvage. The car was buried under snow, but it started on the first try and we had enough gas to get back to civilization. We threw our belongings in the back seat and got out as fast as we could.

The drive out felt like it took forever. Every shadow in the trees looked like it might be one of those creatures watching us leave. We kept expecting something to step out into the road, blocking our escape, but nothing happened. Still, neither of us relaxed until we reached the main highway.

It wasn’t until we were passing through the first town, seeing other cars and people, that we felt safe enough to talk about what happened. We’d survived a night under siege by creatures that weren’t supposed to exist, and we had video evidence to prove it.

Chapter 15: Aftermath

About halfway home, we stopped at a gas station. While my friend was inside, I noticed a black SUV with tinted windows parked across the street. It had been behind us for the last fifty miles. When we pulled back onto the highway, it followed us until we reached the city limits, then disappeared. Maybe it was paranoia, but after everything we’d been through, I wasn’t taking any chances.

The footage speaks for itself. This isn’t some guy in a costume. The detail is incredible—you can see individual hairs in its fur, the way its muscles move, the intelligence in its eyes. Experts who’ve analyzed the video say it’s not fake. The movement is too fluid and natural, the proportions wrong for any known animal.

But the video only tells part of the story. What happened that night in the cabin is proof these creatures are not only real, but territorial and potentially dangerous. The systematic destruction, the psychological warfare, the intelligence behind their actions—all of it points to something far more complex than a simple animal encounter.

Chapter 16: The Warning

This experience changed both of us permanently. My friend, once a skeptic, is now obsessed with Bigfoot research. I’ve become more cautious about the wilderness, scanning the treeline for shapes that don’t belong.

We also learned these creatures are intelligent enough to avoid direct confrontation with humans most of the time. The ones that attacked our cabin could have easily broken down the bedroom door if they wanted to. Instead, they chose to terrorize us and destroy our belongings before leaving. They were making a point—establishing dominance, showing us we were in their territory.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we’d just stayed home. But then I think about all the people who’ve reported similar encounters, dismissed as crazy because they didn’t have proof. At least now we know they were telling the truth.

The footage we captured proves that Bigfoot is real. But it also proves they’re not the gentle giants some imagine. They’re territorial, intelligent, and potentially dangerous if you get too close to their homes.

Epilogue: The Real Story

So that’s what really happened in those woods in Montana. Not a hoax, not a case of mistaken identity. A genuine encounter with creatures that most people believe are nothing more than folklore, captured on high-def video and backed by physical evidence.

The footage we have is the clearest, most detailed documentation of these creatures ever recorded. But it’s also a reminder: there are still mysteries in this world, still places where humans aren’t the dominant species, still things living in the wilderness that we don’t understand.

We’ve kept quiet about most of the details for over a year, sharing the footage only with close friends and family. But these creatures deserve respect, and their story deserves to be told accurately. They’re not monsters or myths. They’re intelligent beings that have learned to coexist with our world by staying invisible.

The drone footage proves they exist. The night in the cabin proves they’re not to be taken lightly. And the coordinated nature of their behavior proves they’re far more sophisticated than anyone has given them credit for.

That’s the real story. That’s what actually happened in those woods. And that’s why I’ll never look at a dense forest the same way again.

End.