Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

A listener named Lee writes “I grew up in Southern California in the 1960’s & 70’s. Just a regular kid – I was not too much into sports, but was still busy enough to keep out of trouble. I had school, a paper route and Boy Scouts. My Boy Scout troop, sponsored by a Catholic Church, was very active. Every summer, the entire troop went to a two week summer camp, we went camping or hiking at least once a month, regardless of the weather, and every Memorial Day weekend we went on our big 30 mile hike.

Normally, on these Memorial Day excursions, we camped fairly locally and backpacked from point A to point B, following a very meticulously laid out plan by our Scoutmaster and involved parents, my dad included. Our transportation would drop us of at the trailhead Friday night, we would camp there & head out early Saturday morning, do anywhere from 12-16 miles, depending on the plan, camp in a designated location according to the plan, do another 10-12 miles on Sunday to camp at the second designated location, then Monday morning head out and cover the remaining 4-8 miles to our transportation. In those days, any tent light enough to take on a backpacking trip was both very rare and horribly expensive, so we spent each night on these kinds of trips sleeping under the stars. It was tough enough for a bunch of kids ranging in ages between 10 &16 to lug enough food, water and personal gear for a 3-day trip, let alone tents, which were all heavy at the time. The Memorial Day hike was a really big deal to us, we looked forward to it even more so than the very structured 2-week Summer Camp each year.

During this whole time, there was never any talk of Sasquatch. Even though most of us had heard of it, had seen the Patterson-Gimlin film, had watched “In Search Of” & The legend of Boggy Creek, etc., but we had never run across any footprints or seen anything out of the ordinary. Most of us had seen Bear, Cougars, coyotes and even Mountain Sheep, Deer and all manner of wildlife during our outings, but never noticed any tree peeking, pacing, or saw anything that would be associated with Sasquatch. Sure, we would occasionally hear a whoop, sticks breaking, but they were always passed off as some kind of bird, or common animal.

By 1975, our troop had been to all the interesting hikes within a 3-4 hour drive, and not only that, the core members of our troop (of which I was a member) were now the older boys, and we wanted do something different. So that year, we decided to go to some spot up near Eureka, California, but structure the hike differently. I cannot remember where we went, exactly, I just remember that we left early morning Wednesday and drove for 10 hours to Northern California. My Dad normally did not go on our hiking/backpacking trips because he took some shrapnel in his leg during World War II, and did not have the stamina to hike, but he went on every drive-in tent camping trip we took. But, in this particular case, my Dad was on the trip.

As I recall, the plan was to tent-camp at the trailhead Wednesday night, then us older boys were to lead small groups of 6 or 7 younger kids to the camp site 15 miles away. All the adults were to break down the tent camp and drive to this camp site via logging roads or whatever kind of roads they were (dirt) and set up the base camp. We had our maps & compasses and a well-defined route, part on trails, part on these dirt roads. Because they were using the vehicles to move the gear, the younger kids did not have backpacks if they did not want to, only us older ones, and we had just water, lunch & snacks. In my group, I was the leader at 14 & there was one kid, a 12 or 13 year-old, who was helping me pack the day supplies. There about 20 of us scouts total and there were 7 in my group. We took off to head to the campsite, more or less at the same time, but quickly broke off into our assigned groups, only stopping when the younger ones needed to rest, and for lunch. Sometimes there would be a couple of hundred yards between groups, sometimes miles, it just depended upon how fast we were at the time. I remember one time, our group came upon a group resting at a creek & we pushed on. Along the trail, we saw deer and one pretty good sized black bear, about 300 feet away as we came around a bend on the trail, as is typical with solitary black bears, it took off running as soon as it saw us. Of course, we were laughing and talking and being noisy kids all day long. We heard it crashing through the trees as it ran away. There would be an occasional whoop or a knock, but we ignored those noises, as we passed them off as birds or another group of kids from our troop, or woodpeckers. The other older scouts & I kept a close eye on the kids in our group & did not let them out of our sight all day. We took our responsibility for their safety very seriously and stuck to our hiking plan without deviation. After all, my Dad was with me on this trip and I wanted to make him proud.

It took all day to make it to the campsite, and I guess we got there between 3 & 4 in the afternoon, we were the second group to arrive at camp. As promised, the adults had set up a really nice campsite with a nice fire-ring in a beautiful flat grass clearing that was easily as big as 2 football fields, lined with pines & other conifers that was about 300 or 400 feet away from a fast running creek. The creek was a good 20 feet wide. That water was crystal clear and ice-cold, and very sweet. The Campsite itself was not completely devoid of trees, but it was very sparsely treed. There were only 2 of the big tents set up – one each for 2 of the adults and the supplies (we had 4 tents, as I recall), and because we were on a hike, we were still expected to sleep under the stars. The tents were old surplus Army tents that were like 16 foot square. It was quite the chore to set them up & break them down. The vehicles were parked neatly off to the side. Four vehicles, four adults, a big 10-passenger van, our troop truck (an old ‘48 Ford pickup that I wish I had now), a newer pickup truck with our troop supply trailer – we called that trailer the Chuck Wagon, and my dad’s Oldsmobile Cutlass with our small utility trailer behind it. I remember how out of place my Dad’s car seemed parked in the woods like that, but it seemed to make it just fine on the logging & fire roads. I guess thinking back, there should have been really no issue, because all of the other vehicles were 2-wheel drive, anyway, so aside from ground clearance, there would be no difference in capability to navigate on those dirt roads.

The overall plan was to camp at this base camp & do merit badge stuff for 3 days, then on Monday, hike back to the trailhead like we did to get to the camp, while the adults broke down our camp & drove to meet us at the trailhead. We were to stay at the trailhead that night and drive home on Tuesday. Well, that was the plan, anyway – it did not work out that way.

About 15 minutes after my group arrived at camp, the 3rd group arrived, and about ½ an hour after that, the last group came busting into camp, all red-faced because they had been running. They said that a herd of deer just about ran them over as they crossed the trail, obviously scared and running away from something. One of the kids said they thought they heard a Mountain Lion scream, back in the woods, but wasn’t sure. So they ran the rest of the way to camp. This happened about ¼ of a mile from the camp. After they calmed the down the kids, I told the scoutmaster, my Dad and the other adults about the Black Bear we saw earlier that day, but that was maybe 10 miles from the camp.

The scoutmaster went to the Chuck Wagon & got a big 75 foot hemp rope and said we were to make a sling for the big, heavy Coleman Ice Chest so that we could hoist it up a tree, high above the ground, in case a bear came sniffing around. This ice chest was one of those old, metal chests with the twisting latch on the front. It was old, at that time. Just off the tents, yet about 40 feet from where the thick trees started, that separated the clearing from the creek, was a big pine tree with a limb about 3-4 inches in diameter, and about 13 feet or so off the ground. We fashioned a sort of a net out of the rope – that took quite a bit of the rope length & slung it over the limb about 5 feet from the trunk, hoisted up the ice chest & tied it off around the trunk. We had meat, eggs and some fruit – apples for sure and something else, but I don’t remember what.

Before I go any farther with this – I should explain what the Chuck Wagon is – our troop’s supply trailer. We built it out of an old 10 foot utility trailer as a troop project. It was our outdoor kitchen when we tent camped. Across the back it had a huge barbeque grill that would take charcoal or wood that we made from a steel 55-gallon drum. We made the grill sections out of number 4 re-bar. Along each side we had built-in plywood boxes where the front folded down to make prep tables. The boxes were about 6 feet long, 2 feet high and 2 feet deep. Once the sides were folded down to make our prep tables there access to pantry storage, cubby holes for spices, kitchen utensils, dishes on one side, and on the other side was more pantry storage and a place where 2 smaller ice chests lived. In the center area of the trailer between the pantry boxes, directly behind the grill, there were large covered storage bins for the tents, ropes & supplies, and in front of that was the area where the big, metal Coleman Ice chest normally lived. That was a good place for it because we could stand on the trailer tongue to fill it with ice or to access it. The small ice chests could be locked away behind the fold down pantry doors – the pantry doors were no-joke – they were made of 2 sheets of ¾ inch plywood laminated together with diamond plate aluminum covering the outside and a sheet of stainless steel to make up the prep surface. They were stable and very sturdy. Thank God we didn’t have buy all that stuff, the church members helped us out with the materials & the troop bought the trailer from an old guy for 50 dollars, or something like that. Anyway, the big green Coleman Ice Chest would have been unprotected sitting out in the open between the pantry boxes, so that is why the scoutmaster wanted us to suspend it below the tree limb, out of reach from your average bear.

Supper that night was uneventful – we cooked burgers & beans and made cherry cobbler in a Dutch oven. We ate around the fire ring with the campfire going. We cleaned up and laid out our sleeping bags for an early night. A 15 mile hike will wear out a 14 year old. I was about 30 feet away from the big pine with our Ice chest under it, but out in the open. All of us were about 5 or 6 feet apart, basically scattered around the campsite. To my left was my friend James. I guess we hit the sack around 9 or 9:30, it wasn’t much after dark. There was no murmur of talking or anything like that; we were all just too tired.

I must preface the following events by saying that while it was going on, I thought I was dreaming, so I am not sure what was reality or part of a dream, but here goes. Some hours after going to sleep someone said, “What are these lumps next to us?” A few of us woke up, including James and myself, and we looked around in the moonlight we could see the lumps that the kid was talking about, but could not tell what they were. I pulled out my flashlight to see what was going on, and in the yellow beam, lying down, not 3 feet away from me was a deer. Then 5 or 6 other flashlight clicked on, illuminating several more deer lying on the ground between us. They reared their heads up when we started shuffling around and they all got up and trotted away, opposite the direction of the creek. Someone said, “That was weird.”

I laid my head back down and closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, I woke to the sound of what sounded like someone waving a branch in the air. Then, came a loud crack. Three or four of us turned on our flashlights, and standing under that big pine, was this, this, thing. It had its back mostly to us, but was reaching up pulling on the branch that our cooler was suspended from. It yanked down on it a couple of times, and the branch waved and started to break. That is what made the sound that woke us up. Then it re-positioned its hand on the limb and twisted it forward just outside of the break. The limb pivoted down and the cooler hit the ground. The creature squatted down and picked up the cooler – it looked small in comparison to the creature. It was holding the corner of the ice chest with one hand and with the other, tried to pry the lid off. The lid parted a bit, but the latch refused to yield and the ice chest popped up out of its grip from the hand that was holding the corner. It made a low, sort of grunting sound, sort of like, “Oooh.” That was the only sound I heard it make. The flashlights did not seem to matter to it at all, and there was no sound from the 10+ boys looking at it. It quickly sat on the ground and clamped the ice chest between its feet and pulled up on the lid. The latch never did break, but the corner of the lid bent up. It reached in and grabbed the bag of apples and something else, I could not tell what. It stood up and walked away into the trees toward the creek without making much sound at all.

The thing was covered in black hair, 2-3 inches long. In the flashlight beam, the hair had a reddish tint to it. The hair was longer over its head and shoulders as if it was wearing a shawl. I never did quite see all of its face; it never turned in our direction. I saw gray colored skin on its face, but could not make out any features. But I do remember how its muscles bulged and rippled under the hair when it moved, and the bottoms of its feet was also sort of gray colored.

No one said a word. No one hardly moved. The flashlights clicked off one by one, and I guess we all went back to sleep, I know I did.

I woke up to my Dad saying, rather loudly, “What the Hell?” He was bent over looking at the lid on the ice chest. What I thought was a dream at the time, came rushing back. My Dad looked small in comparison next to my memory of the creature. He was standing in the same spot. The creature was easily 2 feet taller than my Dad, and he was 6’ 1”. I heard the sound of liquid pouring onto the ground, and twisted around to see my friend James, eyes as big as saucers with pee pouring out of his sleeping bag. He was looking at a footprint between us. The grass was absolutely smashed down. The creature had stepped over 5 or 6 of us to get to the ice chest. I called my dad over to look at the print. I will not forget the look of shock on his face. He did not take his eyes off of the print while we told him what happened. In fact, we never spoke of it again, ever. He died in 1998.
Everyone was standing around looking at the prints. We had a small bag of plaster of paris left over from some past trip where we were casting animal footprints, but it wasn’t enough, so we combined flour & water with it to make a batch big enough to cast one print.

The creature did not hurt any of us, it made no threatening noises of any kind. In fact, it pretty much ignored the fact that we were watching it with our dim little flashlights trained on it.

Like I said at the beginning, I thought I was dreaming when it was happening, so I do not remember being frightened until we measured & casted the prints. They were 18 inches long and almost 9 inches at the widest point, and deep in the ground, almost an inch. It was heavy. None of us had made any footprints in the soil, and whatever grass tamped down when we walked sprung right back up. But this thing was mashing the grass into the soil.

No one wanted to stay after that. We packed up & drove out of there. The hike was over. We got home in the wee hours the next morning. I saw the casting one time after that at a scout meeting a week later, then never again. If we asked about it, we were told that we will not be talking about what happened. We never went up that way again for a trip.”