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>used to go visit grandpa up outside of bozeman in the winters
>grandpa is this tiny little, frail old man, but he's hardy as fuck
>he used to take us snowshoeing up in the mountains and carry most of the gear in this sled he pulled behind him
>it was fucking cold up there, your snot would be frozen before it left your nose
>the times he did convince us to go out, we ended up staying in ice caves that grandpa had carved into snow banks earlier in the winter
>it got dark really early, and of course no campfires because ice and snow everywhere
>one year we're out there camping with grandpa and he's really on edge the whole trip
>don't ask him why because we are stupid kids and don't think it matters
>random outbursts, yelling at us for not tying a knot right
>yelling at us for not keeping up with his insane pace
>stops hiking at about 2:00pm - nightfall isn't for another three and a half hours
>me and brother exchange "wtf?" looks with each other
>look around for his ice cave
>there isn't one
>"hey grandpa where are we camping?"
>grandpa is nowhere to be found
>can't find his footprints, which is strange because snowshoes leave enormous footprints that you can't miss
>back-track and re-follow the trail to where we were earlier
footprints just fucking end right where me and my brother were when grandpa told us to stop for the day

cont...
>after a lot of deliberation, we decide to head back, following our tracks back to the main road, where we will somehow flag down a car and get help to find our grandpa
>we hike about an hour back the way we came
>suddenly hear voice
>where the hell have you kids been!"
>it's grandpa and he's PISSED
>says he was hiking along and all next time he turned around, we weren't there
>says our footprints just ended about 100 paces back from wherever he was when he realized we were gone
>we tell him something similar happened to us and we just got back from 2 miles ahead of us on the trail
>suddenly, he goes into wild animal hyper alert mode
>stops talking
>eyes scanning forest around us, head pivoting side to side, trying to see everywhere at once
>get freaked out and brother starts crying
>grandpa won’t respond when we ask him what's wrong, quietly muttering incoherently to himself

cont...
>after what seems like forever, grandpa starts moving again
>simply says, "follow me" and we do
>too scared to argue, but he's going in a third direction, i.e. not where we came from and not where we were originally headed
>we are all hiking CLOSE together, literally stepping on each other's feet (can't hold hands because of ski poles, but we would have if we could have)
>eventually emerge in a clearing
>i recognize it as a lake, but you'd never know it in the winter when everything is frozen solid
>we get out on the ice and walk all the way to the middle of the lake before we stop
>grandpa tells us to get out our parkas, as we're going to be staying "a while"
>ask him what's happening
>doesn't answer
>he gets out binoculars and starts to scan the shoreline
>this is a pretty huge lake, so without binoculars, neither me or my brother could really see anything besides little distant trees on the shore
>at this point, grandpa puts the binoculars down, unpacks a fairly large caliber revolver and holster, and puts it on his hip
>he then picks the binoculars up and points them in the same direction he was looking a minute ago
>me and my brother both look in that direction
>i can barely see something moving around
>no, a couple things, all of various sizes
>they're all hanging on the bank though - none of them leave the thick brush surrounding the lake, or venture onto the ice

cont...
>after a few minutes, grandpa silently hands me the binoculars
>when i look at the movement on the shore, i almost shit my pants
>there are three animals
>two are what i can only assume are wolves
>maybe coyotes, but i don't think so: the bodies are just too long, almost snake-like
>the third animal is some sort of all white thing standing on two legs
>the more i look at it, the stranger it seems
>at first i took it to be a bear, just standing there on its hind legs
>then it starts walking, pacing around really, and the legs are just too long and slender to be a bear's
>i sit down on the ice, lean up against my backpack, and get a more steady grip on the binoculars
>slowly realize that whatever it is has the approximate build of a human, but the head is clearly not a human head - some sort of animal, i can't place it
>ask grandpa what the hell i'm looking at
>brother snatches binocs away and when he sees it, he labels it "bearman" and wants to take a few shots at it
>grandpa says indians used to dress up in animal furs in order to blend in with the animals they were hunting
>slightly stop shitting myself
>it's just an indian in a bearskin
>and he has two dogs that look like wolves
>and they're following us, but are afraid of ice
>start shitting my pants all over again as i realize that this is about a hundred times weirder than a real bearman

>it's starting to get dark, and we're still out there on the ice
>we're all watching the indian/bearman/whatever the fuck it is and his dogs/wolves slowly wandering along the coastline, clearly avoiding the ice, but clearly trying to get out onto it somehow
>every once in a while, they'll change direction, as though they were pacing back and forth
>in the time i have the binoculars, i see the thing, and his dogs/wolves motionless and staring directly at us many times
>no one breaks the silence for a long time
>when it gets too dark to see anything on the shore, grandpa relaxes, puts down the binoculars, and actually starts to make camp as though nothing had happened
>of course we don't have a tent, but we do have sleeping bags, and bivy bags to keep the blowing snow off of them, and the wind off our faces
>me and my brother look at him like he's crazy
>"we're going to sleep out here"
>i say something like what about that guy holy shit he's right over there >doesn't matter, we spend the long night in that exact spot
>next morning, we can't locate any animals or bearmen after 45 minutes of scanning the trees around the lake
>grandpa deems it safe enough to head back by now, and since he knows these woods so well, we take a different route back to the main road than we took to get there
>after one mile, he's doubling-back, staring at mountain tops and measuring angles between them with his arms, and i'm convinced he's lost

>in the next moment, several things happen all at once
>with no warning, a huge moose gallops out of seemingly thin air and almost crushes my brother, managing to push him on the ground
>grandpa collapses for an unknown reason
>the three of us form a triangle and in the middle is an slender person covered in all white fur, like a polar bear, and with a bear head, or maybe a mask, but it looked pretty damn life-like
>the two wolves (i'm sure they're wolves now) are circling at a distance, or rather, one is circling... i don't see the other
>bearman lets loose a scream like you imagine bigfoot might make when caught in a bear trap
>grandpa half sits up, points revolver, and fires off three shots at the thing in rapid succession
>huge puff of snow like a silent explosion and can't see anything for a few seconds
>now a second moose goes hurdling through and after it's gone and the snow has settled down the bearman is gone too
>no traces of blood to be found
>can still see the one wolf, pretty far away, but it's still circling
>we proceed to book it out of the woods, taking the shortest and most direct route off the mountain
>think that grandpa isn't really sure about where he's going, but nobody gives a shit, we have to keep moving
>still think i see the wolf out at the edge of my vision, several hundred feet out through the trees, or maybe it's both of them

>we eventually do get back to grandpas car (turns out he did know where he was going)
>it's been covered in fresh snowfall since we left it there
>there's 10 inch paw prints all the fuck over it and around it
>NOPENOPE
>we clean off the snow and see that there are dents in the hood, like hail fell on it, but they're right under where the paw prints were
>NOPE.tar.gz.biz.nope
>on the drive home, we all swear to never speak of this to grandma or to my mom >have to swerve out of the way of a huge roadkill
>almost drive off the road
>stop just in time
>the thing in the road is a huge mound of fur with no distinct animal-like forms
>no head, no legs, no tail, blood everywhere.
>looks like a giant skin thrown over a giant mount of flesh
>it moves
>NOPENOPENOPENOPE
>grandpa peels the fuck out, drives home 30 mph over the speed limit, and we never look back

end