sasquatch chronicles blog

While out scouting deer, a Connecticut hunter claims to have spotted a bigfoot creature observing him from a nearby hillside. Others in the area report strange activity as well. Bigfoot researcher Chris Billingsgate investigated the report.

“It must have seen me come up over the hill and I remember that was the thing that actually scared me the most… it was having something looking right at me, there is no question that it knew I was there. And I froze and it was not moving, so for a moment I was questioning what I was seeing but there was a certain authenticity about it that had me scared and it didn’t look like a suit or like, you know, staffed animal or something like that,” said the eyewitness.

The creature, he added, confirmed his fears when “it just turned and walked into the woods”, disappearing “rather quickly”. He then proceeded to head back to his cabin, located “one quarter of a mile from the actual sighting”.

“I didn’t go into the woods after the creature I just went back to the house. That afternoon I did go back up later with my brother to investigate a little bit further. The salt block, which typically takes a couple of weeks for a deer to lick down, was gone, and we had put it there the night before.”

Source: Cryptozoologynews.com

Interesting article from 1935

It was a usual day, I decided tо cycle in the forest and to record my walk on the Gopro. To my great surprise, I met a bear. Thanks God, I left alive due to the shots that thundered not far from that location!

Not Sasquatch related but very interesting to watch –

The local Native Americans (the Abenaki) called Bigfoot, Pomoola, long before the white man came to mid-Maine. It is often described as a “large, manlike creature with red fur.”

Summer/Autumn 2013: My brother lives in Medway, Maine and spends a great deal of time in the north Mainewoods. Hunting, fishing and working; he spends a majority of his time in the broad wilderness area around MountKatahdin. He was driving along the Grant Brook Road and saw this… Bigfoot or Pomoola or Sasquatch or… Whatever it is. Unfortunately, he didn’t have his camera so this was only taken with his phone.

He said, “It ran off”  I’m sure it wasn’t a stump but, not exactly sure what it was.  All I know is it looked like bigfoot to me.”

“The first sightings of the 1800’s that were reported and documented in the State of Maine occurred in and around the Mt. Katahdin area, what is now Piscataquis County, Maine and is located north-northwest nearby communities of Millinocket and Moosehead Lake region. The famous Appalachian Trail ends in beautiful Baxter Park at the highest elevation of just over 5200 ft., atop of Mount Katahdin.

The source of these reports came from a book titled “Camping Out” The book was published in 1873 and was authored by C.A. Stevens, published by The John C. Winston Company of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

There are at least 6 stories of encounters with large man-like creatures, which the Indians called “Pomoola.”  It was also known as “Injun Devil.”The book mentions the death of a trapper years before. He had been ripped apart and at the time it was thought to be a mountain lion. Who knows? The point that got the Julian’s attention was the fact that the body had been beaten against a tree trunk. Chris Julian went on to say, “I have heard mention that the book was fiction. I am not sure I agree considering the detail and the year it was written. I have checked many facts and to me these are factual accounts.  The following is a close-up from the still above.

Source:mt-katahdin.com

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Lake Ellen, Washington, 2014, recorded on a digital device.

Witness Observation

I am about to graduate with a BS in Biology, and want that noted. The incidents began in the fall of 2004. It started out as hearing strange howling sounds in the evening. I never heard the vocalizations in the day time. In the fall of 2004 some friends and I went camping on my driveway. It was the middle of October, and around 2 in the morning I heard a loud grunting sound and trees snapping. The noises were so loud that they woke me up. It was a full moon that night and clear, and when I opened the window on the tent I could not believe what I was seeing. I saw a large dark figure with eyes that seemed to illuminate red in the moonlight.

It was beating something in the head which I found to be a deer come sun up. The creature drug the deer up to the top of the hill above the camp sight. It walked up on top of some big rocks and I could make it out perfectly. 8 to 10 feet tall and covered in hair. The one friend who stayed the evening saw the exact same thing. I watched it eat the deer. It pulled off appendages like it was nothing. Shortly after it started eating it noticed our tent. It walked right down to the side of the tent, and the smell coming off of it was intensely musky.

It knocked the frying pan out of the tree by the tent as it was walking by, and when it hit the ground, it ran back to the top of the hill. The deer carcass was gone, but hair and intestines were left behind. The liver, spleen, heart and lungs must have been eaten. We followed the drag marks from the carcass and found a mass of pine trees bent and broken into some form of shelter.

ALSO NOTICED: The trees were broke off around 6 ft off the ground in the direction that it ran off. I know what all of the animals in the woods sound like. Coyotes, owls, foxes, anything in the woods. I am not mistaking these howls for coyotes or owls. These howls are very deep, long, and you just know something big is doing it. The first time I ever heard it, and did not know what it was, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It felt like some deep instinctual acknowledgement of danger.

TIME AND CONDITIONS: First sighting it was clear and cool. It was around 2 in the morning and it was a full moon.

My grandfather told me this story back in 1991, a few years before he passed away… and so it goes.

My grandfather worked from the late 1950s to the early ’70s as a landscaper on the Duke Estate in Somerset, N.J. When he told this story to my sister and me, he was foggy when giving the exact dates, but he was still very sharp and explained it with incredible detail. My grandfather’s job was to manicure and care for the lawns in the north section of the property (whatever that meant) and other various duties. He said that in the summer of 1972, one August afternoon, he was told by the head groundskeeper that he would be working overtime and that he was needed because a shipment was being delivered from Wisconsin. They needed about eight men to unload a crate and to bring it into the garden area.

That night, the truck arrived and it was getting late. The men who were asked to stay for overtime were eager to get things done and over with and be on their way. When the truck pulled up, my grandfather said that the crate was about 8 feet tall and 5 feet wide. When he asked what was inside it, the one in charge said they were exotic trees.

What happened next was enough to make half of the team get up and walk off the job and not care about the consequences. When the men started pushing the crate off of the flatbed truck, a blood-curdling scream was unleashed from within the box. All of the men let go of their grip and the crate fell to the floor. As everyone jumped back, realizing that this was anything but a tree, the head keeper did all he could to save the contents’ real identity and said that there was a black bear inside of it.While the men were regaining their composure, most of the help walked off the job. They said they didn’t want to get hurt or mauled dealing with a wild animal without the proper safety equipment, so off they went,  including my grandfather.

Only two men stayed to finish what they were asked. This is what was told to my grandfather. The two remaining men managed to get the load onto a dolly and then drag it into the garden compound. While guiding the crate down the main path, balance was lost and the crate came off the wheels. The crate hit hard enough to crack the side of the crate and loosen the side panel, which fell off and exposed the contents.

What the two remaining men witnessed that night was enough to make them seek employment elsewhere. What I am telling you was how it was told to me. Inside the crate sat a creature that had the shape of a man, but was anything but a man. They couldn’t give a height measurement since the creature was in a sitting position, but they said it was huge. It had the shape of a man with a very large frame, only it was covered with black hair. The “creature” was strapped down and had shackles on his legs and feet and arms. The face didn’t look like a man, but had some human features. The workers said it looked more like a monkey or a gorilla. The hair was extremely long and dirty.
At one point, one of the men said they thought that this “thing” was trying to speak or communicate with words, but all it did was keep on drooling. They were under the impression that this creature was heavily sedated because it couldn’t keep his head up straight; it rested its head on its chest.

A couple of inches away from the creature’s head was an empty water bottle nailed to the wall. On the other side of the creature was an IV stand connected to the wall and stuck to its arm. It might have been used to feed this “creature” during its transport. One of the oddest parts to this story was that my grandfather was told that this creature was sitting on a rocking chair! I could never understand this. After thinking about it, though, I think it was maybe to prevent this “thing” from getting cramps during the move. They also said that the odor was overpowering and enough to make anyone pass out — the combined smells of urine, waste and body odor was rank.

My Grandfather stuck by this story until the very end. About two weeks before he passed away, my sister reminded me to bring it up again and confront him, which I did. There was no need to go over the story again because we both knew how it went. I just asked him, “Papa, remember the crate you had to move in Jersey?” He just looked at me, smiled and said, “Of course.” I said, “Did you embellish at all?” He said, “No, there was no reason to. It happened the way I said it happened.” I said, “Because now would be the time to tell me.”

He looked at me and said, “You want to know if I embellished the story. The truth is that I am guilty of the opposite.” There was so much that I left out… the story was just the beginning. Remember something, I worked there for two more years after that. There are things that a young mind should not hear.”

I said, “But I am not a child anymore. I am sure I can handle what it is that you have to say.”

Grandfather said, “Tomorrow I will finish the story. Come back tomorrow.” But there was no tomorrow. Grandfather passed away at 2 a.m. that morning in a New York Hospital.

Morton, Putnam County, Indiana – August 2007
The male witness was sitting on his porch around 10:30 PM when he heard something coming from his apple trees; as he listened it sounded like kids climbing in the branches. He hollered and heard what sounded like whoever it was must have jumped from the tree, landing on the ground and walking off.

Not thinking much about it he went inside his home. A little later his dog became quite agitated and started growling and barking while looking out the glass patio sliding door. The man was watching television; he got up to see what his dog was so angry about and he too looked out the patio door.

What he saw was quite remarkable. He saw the silhouette of a black ape looking creature that had what he described as a head sitting on its shoulders with no neck. It appeared to be 7 to 8 foot tall. It stood motionless and stared the man down before it turned around and melted into the darkness. The man who saw it called law enforcement and they contacted me.

There is one thing that I did not find out until I did a follow up interview. When the man heard his dog barking he walked out side and he saw the creature. It was about thirty feet away. When he looked back toward his house, then looked back again, the creature charged. Now it was only about twenty feet away; then it took off.

He saw it again about three nights ago walking the field next to his house and it was moving very quickly. Several of the people in the area have also seen it.

Details of Encounter:

The witness was deer hunting from a “box” stand that was elevated 6 or 8 feet off the ground. The structure was built with two windows which offered a view of a “four-wheeler” trail that lay nearby. The witness was aware of well used game trail that crossed the ATV trail about 75 or 80 yards from his “stand”. Both sides of the ATV trail were bordered by thick brush and vines. He was paying close attention to the area of the game trail crossing. From his position while viewing the game trail crossing, there was a creek to his right, although he could not see the creek because of the high vegetation alongside the ATV trail.

The witness said that as he watched the game trail crossing, be suddenly detected a “rotten egg” smell. He decided the breeze must have changed direction and was carrying the odor from a paper mill located several miles away. A few minutes later, a doe deer came out of the brush from the creek bottoms. The deer was walking at a normal pace. It crossed the vehicle trail and disappeared from his view in the thick vines and brush to his left. About five minutes after seeing the deer, he noticed that the “rotten egg” smell (the witness was aware that what he was smelling was a sulfide odor) suddenly became very strong. As he watched, a large, hair covered, human-like creature stepped out of the brush and momentarily stopped beside the ATV trail. The creature was using the same game trail that the deer had used.

The witness was mystified and stunned at what he was seeing. He stated, “The hair on my neck was standing up as I watched the thing standing there. I though for a second it was an upright bear, but I quickly realized it was not a bear or any other animal I had ever seen.”(The witness stated he has hunted bear.) As the creature stood very briefly beside the ATV trail, it never turned to look up or down that trail. Its eyes and attention were fixed on the game trail on the other side of the ATV trail. It then stepped across the ATV trail and followed the game trail (and the doe deer) into the brush.

Although it was already getting dark, the witness stayed in the box stand for another 10 or 15 minutes before getting down and hiking back to camp. He said that he never considered shooting the creature, and gave it plenty of time to leave the area so that he would not encounter it as he walked out. He said that, given the creature’s size and mass, he was not sure one shot would bring it down if it charged him. The witness no longer hunts in that area.

Description of Animal: The witness stated the animal was about eight feet tall. When standing and walking it was on two feet, and its arms were swinging as it moved. He said that its head was somewhat ape-like, and the head and body were covered in brownish-black hair that was two or three inches long, except that it appeared part of the facial area was bare. He said he could not actually see much of the face as his only view was from the side. He said the chin area was covered in beard-like hair that was noticeably longer that the other hair. The creature’s neck was hardly visible.

He said the animal’s upper body was massive and very muscular. When asked specifically, he said he saw no breasts. He then stated that he saw no genitalia either. He said the body was not tapered to the waist, and that the creature appeared to have a somewhat full belly. Its arms appeared to be longer in proportion to its overall height than a human’s. He stated the creature’s legs were also large and muscular, but that they appeared undersize when compared to its upper body’s mass.

The report is dated: Mid-June, 1989 about 8:30 PM, clear sky, sunshine and pleasant temperature. Just south of the small community of Yacolt, Washington. Yacolt lies 21 miles NE of Vancouver, Washington, 26 miles SW of Mt. St. Helens, 7 Miles S of Lake Merwin and the Yale Reservoir [the latter a repeated site of encounters].

Mrs. Brenda G., a young mother, German, recently moved to Washington from the US South, doing dishes; her 15-and-a-half-year old son Nick, a short but muscular and macho kid, doing homework; her 5 year-old son, John, playing outside on the lawn; two dogs, one pony. The father worked away from home at the time of the event. The area contained a two-story home on a country road, surrounded by minimal lawns bordered by deep, steeply rising forest across the road to the west; behind the house abandoned fields, overgrown with brush and wildflowers, mixed with groves of evergreens. Several hundred feet separate neighboring houses.

Brenda, washing the dinner dishes, looking out over her backyard, past the horse corral with its pony and off into the distance, notices that suddenly the horse becomes unruly. She calls to Nick: “Nick, there are some kids out there trying to tease the horse,” and steps out the kitchen back door with a BB-gun in her hands for good measure.

Nick races out past her and some distance down the overgrown meadow along the stand of trees, where he comes abruptly face to face with a Sasquatch standing on the indistinct footpath. Nick comes to such a “screeching halt” that he slides on moist vegetation and sits down on the ground. For reassurance he throws a backward look to his mother who, however, has returned to the house. When he looks back at the Sasquatch, it is already walking with long strides across the brush and wildflower covered meadow, “lifting up his feet more than people do.” As Nick scrambles to get up, a branch snaps and the Sasquatch turns to look at him “with big eyes.”

Nick runs back into the house, tearing the screen door off its hinges in the process, to tell his mother about the creature and to change into boots from his slippery loafers. Then he charges back out, taking a large army bayonet from over the fireplace for protection, with Brenda close behind. Their two dogs have retreated under the house.

As he runs down through the same meadow, the Sasquatch is still walking about there, retreats downhill, crosses a small creek and stops on the far bank of the creek under a fir tree to face his pursuers, his entire body bathed in sunlight and visible from head to toe. Nick stops about 30′ away, his mother stands about 15′ behind Nick. This silent tableau holds its place for what seems an extraordinarily long time, perhaps 5 minutes, although Nick’s and Brenda’s estimates, colored by the adrenalin of the encounter, range as high as 20 minutes. Whatever length of time passes, it gives Nick and Brenda the opportunity for detailed inspection of the Sasquatch.

They describe it as being 6′ 6″ tall (as measured against a branch that barely touched the crown of its head), covered with black-gray fur and golden brown patches on its shoulders and chests in it. The head is notable for its pronounced brow ridge and deep set eyes, that are “less open than human eyes” (facing into the sun). It has a wide and stumpy nose, the hairiness under the nose getting thicker, hiding the jaw line. It has impressively wide shoulders (“Man, they were this wide!”, Nick holds his hands far apart in retelling), heavy arms, wide hands with thick fingers and dark brown and rough palms. Its nails have a deep yellow “nicotine-stained” color. Its torso narrows somewhat to the waist, no genitals are visible in the fur, and it has “sort of a small butt for a man”, according to Brenda’s astute assessment. Both observers perceive the creature as a male. Neither of them detected any smell.

In due time Brenda gets the “willies” and anxiously screams to Nick to break it off. Thereupon the Sasquatch screams, takes a step across the creek toward them, while holding its arms out to the side by about 45°, as if to herd them on their way. They run halfway up the hill to the house, when Nick feels compelled to give it one more look. He is rewarded by a repeat of the faintly aggressive display. They continue to the house, Brenda scooping up John from the lawn, who says: “Mommy, there is a big monkey in our backyard.” Brenda climbs up on the low garage roof and watches the Sasquatch walk away. The dogs stay under the house for a safe two hours and will not let themselves be coaxed out, even by having a steak waved at them. The horse has substantial abrasions on its fetlocks from having gotten snagged on a rope in its panic.

Brenda phoned 911, but hung up before the call is answered. After some time she phones back after all and reports the encounter, which is duly noted in the police blotter, but not acted upon. Only an alert reporter from the Vancouver Columbian catches the brief note and looks up the family. This reporter and several Sasquatch investigators canvas the surroundings and neighbors and come up with a few additional items. The reporter brought me some hair to look at, which I did (hair was not Sasquatch).

Two sets of footprints are found, 12″ long and 6″ long, whereupon Brenda puts a roast chicken into a high tree fork, since she wants to see the “baby.” An adjacent unused meadow has a large depressed area of grass in it. A patch of thimble berries is found on the steep hillside to have been stripped of its fruit and leaves, leaving bare canes behind. The adjacent farmer’s cows, which had just been turned loose for the summer into a higher, lush meadow, come rushing back to the barn that night, something the farmer had never observed before. After about a week, little John comments casually: “The little monkey isn’t coming to play anymore.”

Commentary: The circumstances suggest that a young Sasquatch was wandering through the countryside in the company of an older sibling (young male), providing the impetus for the unusual confrontational, protective display.

The narrow waist suggests a young male. Yellow color of nails is probably a function of thick keratin. Dirtiness seems to be the rule for spring sightings.

The wild thimble berry vines were evidently cleaned by sliding the hand along the cane from the ground up.

Despite the apparent lack of smell, dogs, horse and cows reacted without very close encounters.

An effort to attract the Sasquatch by baiting (hibachi glowing for hours in the meadow with hot dogs on it, strategically scattered doughnuts etc.) and viewing the surround during an ensuing night with night vision binoculars proved fruitless.

The final comment by John about playing with the “little monkey” has to be weighed against the exclusive and pervasive Sasquatch talk after the event by the adults, family and visitors alike and, conversely, a Sasquatch was seen above a nearby lumber mill about 4 years earlier. Nick had been sleeping on the screened porch of the house and had heard noises (rustling brush) and “slapping” footsteps on the street during the night. Earlier in the same year, while a Little League baseball game was in progress at the Yacolt ballpark, a Sasquatch stepped out of the forest in full view of the spectators in the bleachers and briefly viewed the game in progress before retreating into the forest. A neighbor and his daughter saw the Sasquatch on an evening after the G.’s sighting, but refused to talk about it to investigators.

A couple of investigators from Seattle arrived and proceeded to establish a camp in the early evening on the steep hillside, where the thimble berry patch had been found.

After several hours, about 11 PM, they came racing down the hillside, dragging their unfolded tent and sleeping bags behind in disarray, got into their VW van and left without further comment, never to be heard from again

This story was told to senior investigator from Oregon Cliff Olson by the Estacada Police Chief’s son Robin as he sat in the dining room doing homework. Young Les told his dad Bob what had happened to him and his friends up the Clackamas River. This all came down some years before the 1967 Patterson Film was taken. It was a time when the Mt Hood National Forest was logging big time, which caused a great deal of Bigfoot activity due to the disturbance.

Les K. was Public Work’s foreman for Estacada, Oregon. This particular Saturday he planned to take his kid fishing on the North Fork of the Clackamas River above Estacada; they loaded up and headed out. He didn’t want to hike up stream to his favorite fishing area so he chose to drive up Ladee Road and hike a trail to the canyon breaks and then down slope to the North Fork and spend the day fishing.

They drove to where they could take a trail to the breaks and headed toward the canyon, they parked about 1/3rd of a mile from the lip of the canyon and then down slope another 1/2 mile or so to the stream. They hiked through the heavy timber almost to the breaks where they saw the timber thinning they knew there were almost there.

Suddenly a very large male Sasquatch stepped out onto the trail just in front of them and just stood there glaring at them. The appearance of the creature and its huge size sent the kids into hysterics; they had been in the lead on the trail and just that quick they were behind their Dad, screaming and hollering and tugging on his clothes scarred to death. The creature just stood there as Les struggled with himself and his kids to gain some composure and head them back up the trail.

As they were about to head back up the trail to the car the creature started walking toward them adding to their need to vacate the area. The children wouldn’t head out by themselves; instead they just clustered near their Dad slowing their progress on the trail. The Sasquatch advanced on them to the point that Les in his fright and concern using the only tool he had – a 7 ft. fly pole – shaking the tip of the rod in the creature’s chest as he walked backwards up the trail. He continued this until the creature stopped, which was just a few feet from their pickup truck. The creature stood there as they clambered into the truck and left.

Les drove straight home dropped off his kids then drove to the Police Chief’s home to tell him what he had just experienced. Bob W. could tell Les was really rattled and had him sit down. Les was not a drinking man; a complete tea totaler but when Bob W. offered Les a drink to settle his nerves, he took a big one. (Cliff Olson, Oregon)