Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

A listener writes “I very recently had some bizarre experiences I’d like to share with you. I’m not sure they’re worth featuring on your show, but I’ll leave that up to you.

My experiences took place while visiting Vancouver Island, British Columbia with my wife and daughter. We live in Ontario and have always wanted to see the west coast. This year was our 10th wedding anniversary, so we decided it was time. Although I didn’t get a clear view of what I saw, I believe it could well have been a sasquatch. The events before and after the sighting seem to point there.

Everything happened in the hamlet of Shirley on southern Vancouver Island where we had rented a cottage for our holiday. The first incident was rather minor but still unnerving. It happened on September 28. My wife Edyta, our 7 year old daughter Lily and I were exploring a beach just up the road from our cottage called Muir Creek beach. It’s mostly cobblestone, with large driftwood logs washed up here and there, and a very steep, tree topped bluff of sedimentary rock about 40 feet from the water’s edge (depending on the tide). It was mid-afternoon and sunny. Lily and I were playing, climbing the remains of a large cedar tree that had washed up on its side on shore a long time ago by the looks of things, with most of its root system still intact. There was no one else around at the time. Once Lily and I had clambered atop the trunk, we nestled into the roots of this driftwood tree, pretending it was a fort. Suddenly, I heard the sharp noise of a stone hitting the tree, hard. It sounded like it had struck the wood exactly opposite to where Lily was nestled among the roots. If it hadn’t been for the trunk shielding her, it seemed like it would have hit her.

A second or so later, I saw the stone roll down the side of the tree we were sitting on. It must have ricocheted off the side it hit and bounced over the trunk to our side. It rolled down the trunk and hit the cobblestone beach below us. I picked it up. It was round, white, and about the diameter of a quarter. I knew immediately it had been thrown rather than rolling down the steep, tree covered bluff above us and falling onto the driftwood tree. Gravity alone wouldn’t have propelled it nearly fast enough to make the loud cracking noise I heard. My wife was about 30 feet away at the time with her back to us, wading in the surf, so I knew she hadn’t thrown the stone. I had a good view down the beach in both directions, and there was no cover, nor any other people in sight. The only place I could see where the stone could have been thrown from was the dense tree and bush cover atop the steep bluff directly over our heads. I couldn’t see anyone up there, and it was extremely steep and brushy. I doubt a human could have even gotten up there, let alone hidden themselves and whipped a pebble at us extremely hard from above. All the same, I was a bit angry at the time, thinking somehow a person was up there and was responsible, so I peppered the bluff with rocks of my own, hoping to flush out the culprit. No response.

The more I thought about the stone throwing incident as the day continued, the more the idea that it could have been a sasquatch entered my mind. I was aware that Vancouver Island is known as a sasquatch hotspot prior to our trip. Being a fan of sasquatch investigation, your show, and cryptids in general, the thought of potentially having my own encounter was in the back of my mind from day one. I’d also spoken with the owner of our cottage who lived a stone’s throw away from where we were staying and kept chickens and goats. He warned me of strange things being known to happen in and around the surrounding woods. He spoke of losing goats in years past, and warned me that if I decided to walk in the thick woods across the road from the cottage, to keep my wits about me. Naturally this got me curious, but I put my curiosity on the back burner for most of our holiday as we played tourists. Then the rock throwing incident happened and it got me thinking about bigfoot again.

The night after the incident, I decided to take a walk in the woods our host had warned me about. In the dark. With only my phone light to guide me. A dumb idea in hindsight, but the rock throwing event and our host’s comments had lit the fire of my curiosity. I crossed the road and walked straight into the forest, navigating over thick ferns and fallen trees. It was an extremely dense forest with moss on most trees. I made it about 100 yards in when I heard a noise. It was like a combination of a man clearing his throat deeply, and an animal growling. It sounded like it was coming from 60 to 80 yards further into the forest than my location. It wasn’t particularly loud, but quite noticeable. I stood still for several seconds, scared and listening for more noise.

I was thinking it could be a bear, or perhaps even a buck. Then I heard a different sound coming from roughly the same spot. The creaking sound of wood fibers in a tree trunk being twisted. It was a sound I’d heard before while walking through the forest near my home during strong winds. The sound of trees bending and swaying. Trouble was, there was no wind that night. Not even a breeze. And the sound was only of one tree bending, not multiple trees. I got spooked at that point and got out of there fast, heading back to our cottage.

The following day I regained my courage and decided to take another walk into the same patch of woods. I’ve since looked at Google maps, and this particular area of forest continues for many miles. The road our cottage was on is the only road in the area. I found my way back to roughly where I was standing when I heard the sounds the night before, then decided to hike in a little further to where I thought the grunt/growl and tree twisting noises had come from. I was about 150 yards into the forest, getting close to where I thought the sounds originated when I looked ahead and saw a fallen tree. It looked like a healthy balsam fir – fresh needles still on its branches. About 30 feet tall and the diameter of my thigh near the base.

I remembered accounts I’ve heard of sasquatches pushing down trees and started to get both scared and intrigued. The tree seemed to be in the exact area I’d heard the grunt/growl and wood twisting noise the night before. I tried not to jump to conclusions because I grew up in and around woods, and I know seemingly healthy trees can fall down on their own for several reasons. I had just decided to walk closer and get a better look at the tree ( I was still maybe 30 yards from it) when I noticed the thick covering of ferns and brambles around me seemed to part just ahead and form a natural trail. It was wide and defined enough that I thought it might have been man made at first. Then I noticed a few smaller ferns growing in the middle of it and realized it looked natural after all. No evidence of any chainsaw use. While looking down at this naturally occurring “trail”, I suddenly noticed a large, deep depression in the ground right in the middle of it. It was slightly longer and wider than my shoe clad foot, about three inches deep, and appeared very fresh. The surrounding earth was covered in leaves and needles, but inside the impression was more bare (although not completely). There were fresh sprinklings of soil outside the impression, mostly behind it. It wasn’t very distinct – no obvious toe or heel marks. Just this deep, fairly large, roughly rectangular impression in the forest floor. Only one too, not a string of them as one would expect if it was a footprint. This increased my curiosity, so I started to walk closer to the tree. That’s when I caught a small flash of movement straight ahead, a little to the right of the fallen tree and about 80 yards beyond it. My first thought was that it was a root ball. I couldn’t see it very well through the thick foliage, but it looked like one of those oval shaped black masses of earth clinging to the roots of a fallen tree. Trouble was, I was pretty sure I’d just seen it move into a more densely covered area of bush.

I watched it for a few seconds before whipping out my phone and getting a video of it. It didn’t move again. I started to worry it was a bear. Or possibly a sasquatch, although it looked more hill-like than man-like. I left the woods quickly with my heart pounding, and without examining the fallen tree more closely.

I was shaken by this experience and decided to call my dad back in Ontario and tell him the whole story. I wanted to get it off my chest. The more I talked, the more intrigued he seemed to get. When I finished he asked if I was going to go back. He said it would be good to examine the fallen tree more closely to see if it had simply rotted internally, or had come down for more mysterious reasons. He also suggested I examine the trunk for bear claw scratches.

I was kind of surprised by his enthusiasm. The conversation bolstered my courage, and I decided to go back one more time the following day. I hiked back to the same spot and noticed right away the hill-like object was gone. That’s when I knew it hadn’t been a root ball. This scared me, but I told myself it was probably a bear and wouldn’t likely return to the same area two days in a row. Of course I knew in the back of my mind it could well have been a sasquatch, but I was trying not to think about that to keep myself calm. I could hear birds chirping nearby and that gave me courage, since I’d heard that when these creatures are around, everything goes quiet. This time I walked right up to the fallen balsam. I noticed a faint but noticeably foul smell in the air. Like something had died nearby but had mostly decomposed already. The balsam was pushed over right at ground level, and had some roots exposed. I looked at the roots and trunk closely. They seemed very sound – no telltale softness of rotten wood. There were lots of fresh, green needles on its branches too, like it had come down very recently. The trunk had no bear claw scratches that I could see. Coming closer to the balsam this time also allowed me to catch sight of another fallen tree almost directly beneath it, and lying in the same direction. A birch.

It was about as tall as the balsam but slightly thicker. It appeared to have been felled earlier too, since although it had many leaves still attached to its branches, they were all brown and withered. The thing I found most intriguing was the base of the trunk. It was broken. Not cut or pushed over with roots intact, but splintered unevenly, with no stump or roots anywhere in sight. It appeared to have been snapped off some distance above the ground, then dragged to this spot. What’s more, the splintered wood of the trunk where it had broken was completely sound. Rock solid with zero rot.

Although I didn’t have a clear sighting, everything I experienced during our trip seems to point towards something unusual in those woods. I’ve spent a lot of time in forests and know how to explain most natural occurrences, but this was different. I don’t know if it was a sasquatch, but I can’t shake the feeling that it was.”