Step into the ancient forests of the Olympic Mountains as we present a riveting first-person account that will challenge everything you thought you knew about the natural world. In this episode, we follow Mike Calloway, an experienced hunter whose annual elk hunting trip with his father transforms into something extraordinary—an encounter with an intelligence not recognized by science.Mike's journey begins with the familiar ritual of preparation—checking gear, studying maps, and making the long drive into increasingly remote territory.

Having hunted these woods for fifteen years alongside his father Jack, a former Forest Service ranger, Mike knows the Olympic Peninsula intimately. Or at least, he thought he did.Their hunt starts routinely enough, with father and son separating at first light to cover more ground. It's during Mike's solitary trek along a promising ridge that the familiar rhythms of the forest are broken by something unexpected—three distinct knocks against wood, delivered with unmistakable purpose. What follows draws Mike deeper into the wilderness, the knocking seemingly tracking his movements, responding to his presence in ways that defy natural explanation.The culmination of this strange pursuit is a moment that will forever divide Mike's life into before and after: face-to-face with a creature standing eight feet tall, covered in reddish-brown hair, with hands—not paws—and eyes conveying an intelligence that stops his breath. Most astonishing is the deliberate communication, as the creature demonstrates it has been the source of the knocking, even responding to Mike's own tentative attempt at reply.That night brings even greater wonders and terrors when multiple creatures surround their camp, communicating through complex knocking patterns and haunting vocalizations that echo through the mountains.

Objects are tossed into their campsite—not as threats, but seemingly as attempts at interaction. By morning, both Mike and his father have glimpsed something that shouldn't exist, something that challenges their understanding of reality itself. The aftermath of this encounter plunges Mike into a crisis of understanding. He tries drinking it away at first, then turns to obsessive research, finding reports of similar experiences spanning decades. A conversation with his father brings partial comfort—at least they share the burden of knowing—but no real answers. The world is bigger, stranger, more mysterious than they've been taught, and perhaps that's not such a terrible thing to discover.Months later, drawn by an irresistible need for understanding, Mike returns to the forest alone. This time, he brings not weapons but tools for communication—recording equipment, and small gifts that might interest creatures possessing obvious intelligence but no exposure to human technology. Over three days, he establishes increasingly complex communication through knocking patterns and receives an extraordinary response—his offered mirror is taken, replaced with a piece of bark polished to create a reflective surface, evidence of tool use and symbolic thinking that transcends mere animal behavior.

he story culminates in a deeply personal decision. After witnessing his son's transformation and unable to fully rationalize their shared experience, Mike's father joins him on subsequent trips to the forest. Together over three years, they forge a fragile connection with these beings, learning enough of their percussive language to announce their presence and convey peaceful intentions. They choose to keep their discovery private, protecting these creatures from a world that would inevitably seek to study, categorize, and perhaps destroy what it cannot understand. This profound narrative invites us to consider what other intelligences might share our planet, moving silently at the edges of our awareness, and what responsibilities come with such knowledge. As Mike and his father continue their twice-yearly pilgrimages into the ancient woods, they carry a secret that has fundamentally changed them—a glimpse behind the veil of what we think we know about the world, and the humbling recognition that we are not alone.