Professor Recalls Chilling 1973 Sasquatch Encounter in Idaho Wilderness

There's something about a quiet, unassuming interview that can hit harder than any flashy footage when it comes to Sasquatch encounters. A recent podcast episode from the Lewiston Tribune channel features exactly that kind of story — a firsthand account from a man who spent a night alone in the Idaho wilderness back in 1973 and heard something that still haunts him to this day. The guest is Steve Evans, a history professor and experienced outdoorsman who grew up in the Blue Mountains of northeastern Oregon. He's no stranger to the woods — he fought fires on the Umatilla National Forest, spent countless nights listening to elk bugle from his family's cabin, and knew his way around backcountry terrain. So when he describes hearing something that didn't match anything in his extensive repertoire of wilderness sounds, it's worth paying attention. The story takes place in the North Fork of the Clearwater drainage, up Isabella Creek and into a side canyon called Goat Creek — an area that is now part of the Mallard Larkin Wilderness. Evans was 30 years old at the time, attempting to reach Mallard Lake for some fishing. The trail he was following petered out, and he ended up crawling on his hands and knees through dense brush, dragging his Kelty pack behind him because the aluminum frame kept catching on everything. By the time darkness fell, he was committed to spending the night where he was. He set up a small camp near Goat Creek, built a tiny fire between two flat rocks just big enough to heat water for his dehydrated food, and carved out a sleeping spot under a yew tree using a custom knife made by his neighbor Larry Adamson, a local mountaineer character. He left his .357 revolver and his big flashlight back in his Volkswagen, thinking he'd be above timberline by nightfall. He wasn't. What happened next is the part that makes this story stick. Evans describes being woken up by a screech — something he'd never heard before or since. It started high, went higher, then came back down. He immediately rules out elk bugle, noting he grew up around them and knows exactly what they sound like. It wasn't guttural like a bear, and it wasn't quite like an owl either. It was something else entirely. Then came the breaking timber. Not twigs, not small branches — poles four to six inches in diameter, snapping with the kind of force you'd hear when a panicked horse plows through a makeshift corral in the dark. Evans compares it to a herd of elk spooking and crashing through the woods, but the sound was heavier, more deliberate, and accompanied by that unearthly screech. This is where the Sasquatch connection comes in, and Evans doesn't shy away from it. He admits that even back in 1973, when people made jokes about sightings, the thought crossed his mind. And he mentions something that longtime researchers and witnesses consistently report — a strong odor associated with these encounters. The discussion cuts off right as he's about to describe what he smelled, which is frustrating, but the buildup alone is enough to make this worth a listen. What makes this account compelling isn't just the sounds themselves — it's the credibility of the witness. Evans isn't trying to sell a book or build a brand. He's a retired professor recounting something that happened to him over fifty years ago, with the kind of detail and self-awareness that comes from someone who genuinely doesn't know what they heard. He even admits he invoked his grandmother's prayers that night, which adds a layer of humanity to the story that a lot of encounter reports lack. The Idaho wilderness has a long history of Sasquatch reports, and the Clearwater region in particular has been a hot spot for decades. The dense, remote terrain, the mix of old-growth forest and rugged ridges, and the proximity to other reported sighting areas all make it the kind of place where something large and unknown could move through without ever being seen — only heard. If you're into firsthand encounter stories from credible witnesses, this one is absolutely worth your time. The interview format lets Evans tell the story in his own words, and the podcast host Matt Banny asks the right questions to draw out the details without leading him anywhere. It's the kind of account that stays with you — especially that screech. Check it out on the Lewiston Tribune YouTube channel and let us know what you think. Stories like this are why we keep digging.