My grandfather has a story that will make the hair on your neck stand up, and pretty much make you afraid of the dark for a week. Anyways, there were two of them hunting Elk up in the Eastern Crest of the Cascades. It was 9;30-10 at night and they were both listening to the radio, when outside the tent the most god awful scream/howl took place. They shut the radio off and could hear footsteps outside the tent, a few minutes later another ear piercing scream/howl, which sounded like it came out of a 55Gal drum. Gramps descriped the sound as a train whistle at 20 feet. More footsteps and then nuthin... dead quiet... Fresh snow fell overnight and no tracks where to be seen.

I'd like to see concrete evidence by now, but i do believe there is something out there smarter and more elusive than us.
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"I have a fair idea of what to expect from the river, and usually, because I fish it that way, the river gives me approximately what I expect of it. But sooner or later something always comes up to change the set of my ways..."
- Roderick Haig-Brown