Reptilian Encounter in the Nevada Desert
(Copyright 2010, Cherry Hinkle - All Rights Reserved)
<Edited by Robert D. Morningstar>
The city of Las Vegas and well-known Las Vegas Strip with is their glittering casinos, as well as the communities of North Las Vegas and Henderson, fill this crowded desert Nevada valley.
Black Mountain looms over the desert community of Henderson, situated on the east slopes of the valley. That dark mountain is the home of many television towers and other towers on the top. It is the home of mines and caves that pock the sides of Black Mountain.
Today, there are businesses and homes, and a freeway that cut into the slopes of that mountain, but in the middle of the 1970’s just open desert from the middle of town to the mountain. More open undisturbed miles of desert until sparkling Las Vegas. With the building boom, homes and businesses crowd the once open desert.
In 1977, every kid in town knew the rules - do not climb or play on that mountain. All parents understood of the constant danger of the deep open mines and caves, but danger lures the younger set, and several deaths occurred on the slopes of Black Mountain.
It was on a pleasant day, and my thirteen-year-old son Marc and his friend Harry, roamed in the empty desert between my house, and the forbidden Black Mountain. Being adventurous boys, the chance to explore a cave and carry back a rock or two, and a lifetime of memories is enough to break the rules.
They hiked maybe the scant one mile across the desert and climbed the little hills in front of Black Mountain. On the backside of one of the little hills, Marc and Harry located a cave. They had to squirm into the narrow opening, and belly crawl through the cave to the larger room and turned on their small pocket flashlights. They saw a circular room roughly nine feet across. Near the back wall, they spotted a large deeper hole. They found several large branches that someone had dragged a couple large branches about a mile from closest tree, and tossed the branches into the hole creating a makeshift ladder to climb down into the lower pit.
The pit was roomy, with a short annex. Occasional debris littered the rocky floor, like a tin can or two, a battered teen magazine perched on a small outcrop of rock that served as shelf. The boys explored to main cave, then turned their attention to the short tunnel or annex.
Sounds carry in a cave, and the walls slightly vibrate if a loud voice reverberates throughout the small room. It was then, that the boys heard the sounds of a voices and maybe the distance humming of machines. Intrigued by the thought of they were mining nearby, the boys went a deeper into the tunnel. On the far end, they found a rusty metal door, and near the door a strange metal rod. The one-foot rod was lightweight and resembled aluminum, with a cap on one end and a few strange engravings on one side.
Marc weaved the rod through the belt loops of his jeans, focused the beam of his flashlight on the door, and tried the doorknob. He discovered a strong bolt secured the door from the reverse side. Harry shook the doorknob and pounded on it a few times. Startled, the boys heard the sound or guttural harsh voices talking, and the certain sound of approaching footsteps.
They suddenly felt a wave of fear, knowing they were inside a forbidden cave, weaponless, and an angry animalistic growling voice attempted to open to the door any second.
Marc, the taller of the two, pushed Harry up the makeshift ladder and scrambled up the wood branch to the upper level of the cave. They heard the metal door clank and squeak loudly as the door it opened. The boys crawled as quickly through the narrow tunnel, and outside, the stood up and ran about the distance of a city block away from the cave entrance. They laughed at their dirty hands and faces, relieved the escaped from and the unknown man with harsh voices in the cave. They looked at the strangely engraved rod, trying to figure out what language might include circles, ovals, swirls and triangles.
Without a warning, they heard a loud threatening growl. Harry and Marc looked back at the cave entrance and to their horrified eyes; they watched as a very large greenish humanoid struggled to force his big body out of narrow cave. The boys screamed and started running down the slope of the hill, running top speed! They didn’t look back until they were near my back yard. They slowed down, breathing hard and glanced back to the mountain.
To their shock and fear, the huge humanoid was trotting towards them! They started screaming again put on a burst of speed and ran into the house; Marc locked the door screaming:
“MOM! MOM! Help us Mom! He's going to get us!”
Alarmed, I ran into family room, and both boys threw their arms around me, crying. They both were shaking, not just their hands, but also their entire body shook! Wet tears left muddy tracks across their cheeks. Marc begged, “Don’t open the door Mom, he going to get us!”
Meanwhile, Harry added, “He is big, and looks mean! Don’t open that door – please, please, don’t open that door!”
Instantly I was furious with the man that generated such terror these young boys! At thirteen, boys are usually trying to impress everyone how brave they can be, so I know it took a lot of nerve to admit that much fear.
I told them:
“Boys, you go get a drink of water and let me go talk to this man,”
but they tightened their grip on me, screaming:
“NO, NO, NO! That guy will kill you! He is not a man! Don’t go out there Mom!”
I managed to coax one arm free from each boy.
I looked into their worried eyes.
“Boys - nobody is going to kill anybody, and you know I won’t allow anyone hurt you! Now - what do you mean he is not a man? It’s a woman that is threatening you?”
“No Mom, it’s a man, sort of, he looks like a man, but his face looks like a snake or YEAH, like a Lizardman!
He’s ugly and he doesn’t wear anything. He’s naked, except a wide belt with stuff on it.”
I stared at my son, imagining some teenager wearing a Halloween costume. I laughed a little, and said, “Boys, it was just someone playing a joke on you!”
Both boys started protesting again, both talking at the same time. I could hear the panic in their voices rising again, and finally Harry said, “That guy couldn’t be wear any costume, he could barely squeeze himself out of the cave, he would have ripped he costume into pieces!”
“What cave? Did you go boys up on Black Mountain even when you knew the danger?” I asked.
“Mom – listen to me, it was a lizardman and he was naked. I’ve never seen a costume that shows EVERYTHING, he was naked Mom, and it was NOT a costume! You know what I mean Mom?”
With difficulty, I untangled myself from the tight grip boys, and looked out the window. I peered carefully out the widow expecting the spectacle of a "Lizardman," but nothing moved, not a child, not a man and no Lizardman.
I reassured the boys the danger is in the past and the man was long gone.
It was at that point, I noticed Marc was holding a strange metal rod. “What do you have in your hand son?” Marc glanced at the rod and threw it on the floor as if it would burn his hand. I leaned to pick it up but Harry grabbed my arm, warning it was dangerous, maybe a weapon. I picked it up reminding them they carried it from the mountain safely all that time, so it couldn’t be too dangerous.
The rod was approximate one and a half inch across, maybe a foot long with a slight indentation at one end and a plain gray cap on the other. I looked at the bizarre symbols engraved in a three-inch section of the rod. It was just symbols, from spirals, circles of different sizes, a few triangles, and a few unknown symbols. There were no levers or buttons, and the cap at the end didn’t seem to move. The rod, with its professionally created symbols and smooth to the touch, I knew it was not a toy, but nothing I recognized.
It was late afternoon, and the long shadows cast ominous shapes in the yard, I knew Harry was still too nervous to walk home alone. Marc and I walked the distance of two houses and made sure he was safe inside before we walked home.
That night, Marc was still nervous, peeking out the curtains often, expecting the worse. Marc played Scrabble with his sisters, anything to keep his mind busy. Near midnight, we went to bed.
It must have been around two in the morning when Marc shook me whispering harshly that someone is trying to get into his bedroom window. I hoped it was just a nightmare, or his nerves were still on edge. Quietly we slipped into his bedroom and listened to the sounds of scraping at the window edge! He was not mistaken – in the light of the moon I could make out the silhouette head and shoulders of a man.
I was alone with my four kids, no husband to protect us, so I grabbed my flashlight; suddenly tossed the curtains open to face the man. There was a glare from the flashlight on the window, but past glare that I could clearly see a large head with ridges on the top, other ridges on his cheekbones, and the glow of golden eyes. Marc and I stood still, unmoving, both fear and shock kept us frozen. The Lizardman didn’t move either, his hand still poised in his attempt pry the window open. He hand was large, with webbed rough, gnarly looking fingers, with powerful claws.
After a couple minutes, not seconds, but long agonized minutes with our hearts pounding I knew I had to do something. One hand still holding the flashlight beam on his face and my eyes still locked into those golden eyes, I fumbled around in the dark with my other hand, hoping to find something to use as a weapon, is needed. He glanced at my hand, looked back into my eyes. He turned his head a little, as if he was asking a questioning, he slightly opened his lipless lips, displaying four of his pointed teeth, and suddenly he turned and ran off into the desert.
Marc suddenly closed the curtains, grabbed my hand and led my shaking legs to the edge of his bed. We sat there for a few silent minutes. We just sat there, trying to comprehend the incredible event, with little success. We started talking at the same time, and started checking the doors and windows repeatedly. His sisters were completely awake by then, and we all talked all night, going from windows to doors until full sunlight.
Later in the morning, we decided the reason the Lizardman was breaking in the house was to reclaim that metal rod. Marc and I hiked back to the cave and placed the strange rod beside the cave entrance.
The Lizardman never again attempted to enter this house, and for that, I am relieved.
After a few days, I went outside and looked at that window. It was then that I found that that bottom edge of that window is close to six feet high from the ground. It was a shock to realize the lizardman must have been very tall, over seven feet tall! Inside the windows are high, but about five feet high, from outside there is no way no one could look through this window – unless they were extremely tall.
This event is real. “Harry” is not the real name, but since I have been unable to locate him and ask permission, I used a pseudo name. Marc’s name is real, and he was my only son. Marc died in 1999. I still live in sight of Black Mountain. People living close to that mountain sometimes report underground rumbling at night when it is quiet. UFOs are often seen and photographed over Black Mountain, that shouldn’t be too surprising; we live not far from Area 51 in Nevada.
PHOTOS OF MY SCULPTURE
MANY YEARS AGO, I CREATED THIS REPTILIAN HEAD (call it a "Repton")AFTER MEETING A REPTILIAN MAN IN THE NEVADA DESERT.