Mothman Sighting in Pennsylvania

My approach as a skeptic is to seek evidence to support claims of the paranormal or cryptozoological, instead I find a profusion of data that point entirely in the opposite direction. This is why I remain utterly perplexed following an experience I had over the weekend. If I do not get to the bottom of it I may have to concede that at least some of these mysteries may be for real.

Sketch of Mothman from sighting in Pennsylvania

My sketch of Mothman after it landed in a nearby field. I did not crap my pants

My Mothman Encounter
I was returning from Walmart, listening to my new Slipknot CD as I slowly wound my way down the dark, wooded road toward my cabin, which was just about a hundred feet ahead on the left.

It was hard to not nail the accelerator with “Skeptic” pumping through my stereo speakers but I had to lay off or I’d either take an un-joyride into one of the trees lining the narrow lane, or blow right past my house.

Anyway, with my keen peripheral vision I suddenly caught a glimpse of something dark swooping through the trees off to my right. Turning my gaze I made out a shadowy winged figure back-lit by the deep blue, twilight sky.

Two red eyes flickered into view and then seemed to turn away as the figure continued on its course, thrashing through the upper boughs of the tall pines and busting free to soar high over the roadway ahead.

The scene was completely surreal, and spooked me so much that I thought I might crap my pants. Luckily I was able to muster some control.

As I watched the creature descend I took my foot of the gas and slowed to a crawl. The thing touched down in an overgrown lot off to my left, adjacent to my property. I stopped abruptly with a sharp squeak of brakes and the crunch of tires on gravel.

This huge, creepy looking bird thing stood about 7 feet tall. After touchdown it stood motionless, its wings hunched overhead. It looked a lot like drawings I have seen of Mothman. Two fiery red eyes shot me a look that made my spine rattle in my back.

Dumbfounded, I stared for what seemed like an eternity, then remembered a pad and pencil I keep in the glove box for just such an event. I should probably keep a camera but no one takes photos of Cryptozoological things too seriously anyway, and it would have been little more than a Mothsquatch at this distance.

I muted the stereo and quickly went to work sketching this bird-man creature. Though I didn’t crap myself the thing was for sure scaring the hell out of me. It flies after all, so I knew it would have no problem hopping up off of whatever kind of feet or claws it had to fly over and rip my sorry ass out of the truck like that bat-winged dude on Jeepers Creepers.

The pace of my sketching increased. Basically I scribbled, as you can see from the resulting image above.

I glanced away momentarily to look down at my sketch and I heard the hugely disturbing “whump-whump” of enormous wings. I looked back toward the Mothman, expecting it to be airborne and halfway to killing me but it had simply flapped its wings a bit then proceeded to walk around.

Finished with my sketch I worked up the courage to get out of the truck and get a closer look. There was no logical reason to believe that it was a threat to my safety but I intended to proceed with caution anyway.

I clutched the door handle and slowly pulled to disengage the latch. The door popped open with a soft bump and swung free. In a blink the creature turned its red-eyed gaze on me again. I froze with one leg dangling from the truck.

Moments passed and the creature didn’t move so I slowly slid my ass of the seat and dropped to my feet on the gravel roadway. I was a little scared but I needed to find out what this thing was.

Just then a car rounded the bend a short distance back. Wide headlight beams washed across the vacant lot then finally fell upon me and my Bronco. I swung my head and watched the car approach, a little too late in realizing I had just missed my chance to see the Mothman illuminated.

With the road too narrow to pass, and my dopey self standing there like a proverbial dear in the headlights, the car slowed down and pulled to a halt behind mine.

“Hey, Funky Spookster!” A wavering squawk bellowed the tease out of the open driverside window.

It was Andy, my 77 year old neighbor calling me by a nickname he started as a little razz when he found out that I investigate the paranormal.

The door of his old Buick popped open with a rusty creak and he sprung out of the car like a jack-in-the-box. This old timer has more energy than most kids these days.

“What are you doing stopped in the….” he began, starting toward me. Then, hearing a wing whump in the darkened lot, he jerked his gaze toward the creautre and bellowed wide-eyed, “what on God’s green Earth is that!?”

At that moment the mothman shot into the air with a deafening flap of huge leathery wings. We clapped our hands over our ears and watched in tense anticipation as the Mothman swooped about in an impressive display of aerial acrobatics.

I approached Andy as the creature circled three times overhead, widening it’s arc with each pass, it’s red eyes fixed on us. Suddenly it shot into the air, disappearing into a minute spec against the dim dusty trail of the Milkyway.

Strange Evidence
When I arrived at Andy’s side, he seemed a bit shaken but calmed down quickly enough.

“Jeez, what the hell was that thing, a giant owl?” He asked, recovering from a slightly backward stagger.

“I dunno. Mothman I think.” I replied.

“Mothman? You’re nuts. Gotta be something normal, like just a big bird or something. Why do you paranormal guys always need to jump to such dopey conclusions?”

At that moment we both froze, heads cocked, listening to a faint hissing noise that was growing louder by the moment. It came from somewhere overhead.

We jumped with a start as an unidentified object impacted the ground with a splatting “shplop” just in front of my truck, sending up a plume of dust and gravel which rained down on the metal hood and fenders in a noisy shower of metallic plinks.

The dust settled as we slowly made our way toward the dark thing lying on the ground. It was mashed flat. If it had been a living thing it was certainly quite dead now. Pulverized.

Andy slowed his stride a bit, then look sideways at the lump in the road, his nostrils flared and an eyebrow cocked.

“What’s that smell? Did you let one?” He asked. The last two words came out as a mildly disgruntled bark.

“Not me,” I responded, catching a whif of the stentch in question. I continued my approach, finally getting a better look at the thing in the road.

“Smells like shit,” Andy remarked. Then, pointing at the pile, he concluded, “That is shit!”

Diggin’ the Dookie
Andy stood beside me and we both gazed down at a rather large flattened lump of poop. Amazingly, flies were already cued in on it.

Andy chuckled, half amazed. Shook his head. “That is the biggest lump of crap I have ever seen! No way you’ll ride around that, I’ll go get my shovel.”

With that Andy turned and headed back to his car. Puzzled by the massive deuce, I pondered it’s origin while I listened to Andy pop his car trunk and rummage around for a moment before returning with a garden spade.

I was going to ask him why he carried a shovel around in his trunk, but didn’t bother.

The agile old guy dug in and made quick work of the massive pile. He moved it to the side of the road, leaving enough space for us to drive by.

Andy stood leaning on his shovel, surveying his work. With a satisfied huff at a job well done he turned to head back to his car and said, “I’ll come back tomorrow and load this crap into my lawn trailer. It will make great fertilizer. Save me a ton of money this season!”

Grabbing a zip baggy from my glove box I headed over to the pile of dung to collect a sample.

“What the heck are you doing Funky?” Andy asked, bemuzed.

“Gonna get a sample of this load so I can have it analyzed.” I answered, carefully stooping by the fetid, jumbo excretion.

Andy, heading away toward his car, shook is head and chuffed.

I shooed away some flies, inverted the baggy over my hand like I was picking up a dog turd and nabbed a sample. Zipping the bag shut I pondered the poop and this most bizarre event.

Did I just have an encounter with Mothman or was it something else? Was this giant ripe steamer a sort of calling card from this mysterious creature?

Questions flooded through my mind. I knew I had my work cut out for me on this one. Can’t jump to conclusions though. First we need to find out more about this mysterious dookie. A trip to my friends at the lab is in order for tomorrow.

Andy’s car door thumped closed. In the distance I heard the haunting call of a barred owl. Or whas it something else…

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