Fresh Bigfoot Tracks and Strange Sounds Discovered on Texas Ranch

A Central Texas witness named Annabeth sat down with the Creek Devil crew recently, and the conversation is one of those interviews that sticks with you long after it's over. What makes this one special isn't just the track finds or the audio recordings—it's the layered history of encounters across multiple family properties that paints a picture of something consistently present in this particular stretch of Texas. Annabeth stumbled onto a fresh set of tracks near a private lake on a ranch about a week and a half before the interview. The swimming hole she frequents sits right at the inlet, and while walking around picking up turkey feathers (a detail I love—she's clearly someone who spends real time outdoors), she looked down and there they were. Five good prints this time, compared to over 200 at a different lake location previously. These new tracks are smaller than the earlier ones but described as incredibly deep, pressed into ground that nobody had access to. The ranch is remote, difficult to reach, with washout areas and ravines that would trip up anyone unfamiliar with the terrain. The previous track site was measured at 14 inches across—the same size as the Patterson-Gimlin prints from 1967. That's not a small detail. But the audio is where things get really interesting. Annabeth had been hearing what she assumed were hogs fighting near her house for some time. She'd even sent the recording to William Jevning, the host, thinking nothing of it. Then she listened again and realized—that's not hogs. The description she gives is haunting: a "demon type of sound," with chest bumps audible underneath. The recording was captured about 100 to 150 yards from a county road, on a narrow strip of timber between her property and the road. Crows were going absolutely berserk during the encounter, and she believes there were two of them based on the later portion of the audio. The timing matters here. This wasn't some ambiguous nighttime recording. It was broad daylight, around 7:30 to 8:00 in the morning. And the heavy timber behind her house made visual confirmation impossible, but the audio speaks for itself. What elevates this interview beyond a single encounter report is the family history Annabeth reveals. Her father had a sighting back in the 1970s. Two years ago on Christmas Day, something happened at one of her dad's lakes. And then there's her cousin's story—gathering with friends at a peninsula on another property, spotting a figure during the day, and later that evening something massive hitting the middle of an inlet like a boulder being thrown into the water. Her cousin dropped his fishing rod and ran. The group scattered. A meteor shower was happening that night, which creates that frustrating 50/50 ambiguity, but the timing of the splash relative to the sighting earlier that day is hard to ignore. Three of her father's properties. All with lake access. All with encounters. The geography adds another layer. Annabeth describes her location as true Central Texas—about 45 miles from the geographical center of the state. She notes that development from the Metroplex, the Hill Country, and North Texas is pushing everything outward, and her area represents one of the last regions with vast undeveloped land, heavy timber, and rock outcroppings. The kind of terrain that provides actual cover for a large, reclusive primate. The host brings up an important point about the new tracks not matching the previous set—different size, different location, roughly 15 to 20 miles apart. That suggests either multiple individuals or the same one moving through a wider territory than previously documented. This is the kind of interview that rewards careful listening. Annabeth comes across as genuine, grounded, and genuinely unsettled by what she's been experiencing. The combination of physical track evidence, audio recordings, and a multi-generational family history of encounters in the same general region makes this one worth your time. The full interview runs long, but it's worth sitting through. Creek Devil has built a solid format around these witness panels, and this particular episode captures something that feels increasingly rare—a pattern of activity documented across years and multiple locations by people who clearly know their land intimately. Check it out when you can.