Hiker Whoops Near Alaskan Glacier, Hears Possible Response

So there's this video floating around YouTube from a channel called Tailing Sasquatch, and it's got some seriously intriguing moments for anyone who spends time in the bush looking for signs of our hairy friends. The footage documents a grueling solo hike through some of the most rugged Alaskan wilderness imaginable, all in an attempt to reach a glacier. But what makes this one worth talking about isn't just the stunning, remote terrain — it's what happens along the way. Right from the start, the hiker is doing what so many of us do when we're out in Sasquatch country: he whoops. And about 30 seconds later, he gets a response. He estimates it came from about 40 yards up the mountainside, in an area with no trails. For anyone who's spent time in the field, you know exactly how significant that kind of vocal exchange can be. Whoops are one of the oldest and most commonly used methods for trying to make contact, and documented responses have been reported by researchers for decades. The fact that he heard something come back, in such an isolated spot, is exactly the kind of thing that keeps people coming back to these remote areas. He mentions that the last time he was in this area, he heard voices too — though he initially chalked it up to a howl. Sound carries in strange ways in the wilderness, especially around cliff faces and glacial valleys, but when you combine that with a whoop response, it starts to paint a more interesting picture. Then there's the trees. He points out multiple trees along the trail that appear to have been "conveniently slapped" to cover the path. Tree slapping is one of the most well-documented forms of Sasquatch communication and territorial marking. Witnesses and researchers have reported seeing trees with bark stripped, broken branches, and what appear to be hand-shaped impressions for years. When trees in remote areas show this kind of damage and are positioned in ways that seem to obscure a trail, it's hard to ignore. He also spots a large print in the mud, though he doesn't dwell on it too long given the slick, sketchy terrain. And throughout the hike, he keeps hearing sounds up near the cliff face — sounds he can't quite identify. In a place this remote, with no other people around, the possibilities get pretty interesting. The hike itself is brutal. We're talking steep, slippery rock faces, icy winds coming straight off the glacier, leaf-covered trails that make footing treacherous, and a race against incoming Pacific storms. He even mentions that the last time he was there, the lake was frozen solid and he walked right up to the glacier and into the ice caves. The area is so remote that he finds a marker showing where the glacier's edge was in 1976 — a sobering reminder of how dramatically these landscapes are changing. He also encounters black bears, grizzlies, and what he calls glacier bears — a rare color-phase black bear with a bluish tint that's found in this part of Alaska. There's even a beaver dam along the route, which is a nice touch of wilderness detail. Honestly, this video is worth watching all the way through. The whoop response, the slapped trees, the unidentified sounds near the cliffs — it all adds up to one of those quiet, compelling field experiences that doesn't make headlines but speaks volumes to anyone who knows what to listen for. The channel clearly has a passion for documenting these remote areas, and this particular hike is a perfect example of why people keep going back to places like this. You never know what might whoop back.