Leaderboard

December 31 1989 a Sunday at Soda Peaks Lake in the Gifford Pinchot NF. Temp there about 28 degrees, right a 12 PM light hazy overcast. With a good friend eating lunch. The lake was partially, 3/4 frozen over, very light patches of dusty snow Was not a sighting was something opposite side of the lake making a grunting guttural sound getting loader each time, nothing I've ever heard before or since, got out of there after about 20 minutes of the vocals. Have the time date and location etched in my mind. Hows that for memory? Same friend and I cross country skiing close to Goat Mt near Goat marsh skiing through an old gravel pit on trail came across a track-way crossing the trail went up the side of the pit towards Goat Mt, same year about a month after the Soda peaks incident. Probably not as intense of feeling as the SP Lake incident so date was not remembered and the other was on New Years eve.

Since we are discussing infrasound, I would like to share an experience that I had a few decades ago. I have discussed this previously with Far Archer and decided I would share it here as well... I believe it was the summer of '95, my brother and a mutual lifelong friend (who worked for the defense department) were doing a roughly 70 mile 6 day backpacking trip with shuttle between trailheads A and B, in the south eastern portion of the Sierra Nevada range of California. The route was ambitious but doable as we were quite experienced and still relatively young men in those days. Our journey started out at 9k feet and then climbed to over 12k, then down to 8 and back up to 12k and so on, as we would summit 4 high passes during the hike. Up and down - up and down. It didn't help matters that I dislocated my kneecap during an acclimatization climb on the day prior to starting our route, I decided to do the hike despite considerable pain and impairment, my thinking being that perhaps I could walk it off in some way. it turns out I was right but it took most of a week to do so. The important thing to note here is that because I was injured, I was usually lagging a mile or so behind my partners, and saw things that they didn't see that came into play later on... We got over the top of the first pass late that first evening and spent a frigid night in our camp, as some unseasonably cold air had moved in even though it was still late summer. In the morning our water was frozen and frost glistened on the granite. We slogged on for the next few days down into a magnificent lush green canyon, walled in by granite towers - then up an interminable 3,000 ft. climb, the Golden Staircase. I numbed the pain in my leg by drifting into the "zone" of solitude and clear thought (or so it seemed) inside my head, caused by the exertion and repetitive rhythm of climbing. Another couple of cold nights and then a planned early morning ascent of our penultimate pass, would be followed by a mild descent to XYZ lakes, a lovely hospitable place to camp that I had fond memories of from the early 70's. As I neared the top of the pass, I could see my partners silhouetted in the morning sun, already resting in the narrow notch that defined the low point of the col. Two scruffy looking men approached from the switchbacks ahead and as we passed we engaged in the normal backpacker banter of "How ya doin'" Where ya headed etc." I mentioned that our destination was XYZ lakes and their expressions seemed to change. "We were going to stay there too. but its not a good place to go. there's a massive bear problem there." said the dirtier looking of the two men, his sidekick nodded in agreement. I didn't think much of it and moved on to meet my companions on the pass. The men had told them the same thing... We reflected on the previous days hike and started putting things together. That day we had also ran into two men but hadn't thought much of it - but they had seemed rather odd and out of place. One was wearing a Ranger cap but no other uniform or identification, the other was a sparklingly clean, snazzily yet inappropriately attired man wearing what appeared to be FBI issue sunglasses. He looked as if he had shaved and showered that morning even though we were some 35 miles in from the nearest paved road. They had also advised us to not go to XYZ lakes, "We don't really want people camping there anymore, there are better places to camp," the "Ranger" suggested without identifying himself. As we sat and rested on the pass we talked about this for a bit, but decided that we weren't going to change our plans at this point. We moved on and my partners swiftly commenced to descend the pass as I straggled along far behind them. At a point perhaps halfway down the pass, I heard a droning sound approaching from behind the peaks to the west and before I knew it an unmarked military helicopter passed a few hundred feet directly above me and made a direct line for a small group of tarns somewhat north of XYZ lakes and perhaps a mile from my lofty vantage point. I sat and rested on a large boulder and watched as the chopper landed in a tiny flat area and was greeted by a figure that emerged from behind some large rocks. The figure was joined by a man who disembarked from the chopper and for the next 15 minutes or so they proceeded to unload what appeared to be some very large wooden crates from the vessel. The chopper then re-ascended and flew off to the east. My thoughts were that this was all highly unusual... I arrived at XYZ lakes a short time later. My partners had arrived at this deserted and rather eerie place a while ago and had begun to set up camp in one of the few remaining flat areas, the same spot coincidentally that I had set up in over 20 years earlier. But something was different now. Gone was the good feel and idyllic ambience of the place, instead it seemed grim and foreboding. My buddies mentioned that they hadn't seen the helicopter but agreed that the place was a little spooky. Later that afternoon we watched in amazement as what appeared to be a massive military aircraft flew high above us at top speed. It appeared to be larger than the size of a football field, as we saw commercial jets later that day for a size comparison. We chatted about this at sunset as we sipped the last of our remaining whiskey, then we each got into our own tents at dusk and fell asleep. I awoke in the middle of the night, and heard footsteps on the scree not far from our tents, slowly cautiously and deliberately moving about. They were not the steps of a bear or deer, besides we were well above the elevation of their usual habitat. I felt a fair amount of fear and a strong reluctance to investigate further. The next thing I knew it was morning... My partners had heard the sounds as well, and they too, were spooked but reluctant or unable to do anything. None of us seemed to want to talk about it much, as if admitting fear could be seen as a weakness. We broke camp and moved on, our destination being XXX Lake some eight miles distance away. It would be the final night of our trip as we would hike down to the high desert the following morning and head home. We arrived at our destination and set up camp, our tents about 20 feet apart on flat gravely shelves above the lake. Afternoon came and went and then we fished for a bit, I remember arguing with my brother over who would clean the fish... We were exhausted from our journey and decided to get an early night, besides we were out of whiskey. It was dusk and we each got into our tents. I crawled into my bag and luxuriated in the fact that my leg was feeling much better and that we would be back in civilization sometime the following afternoon and looked forward to having a real bed to sleep in as well! It was then that I heard a slow shuffling right outside my tent, perhaps two feet from my head, a step and then a pause, slow and deliberate, again and again encircling my tent. I was frozen in terror without the power of speech. I heard my friend cry out my name in a quaking voice, "Mort, is that you"! I heard a low guttural sound from the direction of my brother's tent. I could not answer - the terror was too intense. The next thing we all remember was waking up the following morning. There was no recollection of tossing and turning all night as you normally do sleeping in the mountains, there were no memories of getting up to **** or having a drink, there was just a blank gap after the terror at dusk. Nothing but a long sound sleep...We talked about it as we packed our things. We were still creeped out in a major way over the events that had occurred, but try as we may we were unable to fill in any details. Both of my partners said that they too had also heard footsteps directly outside their tents at the same time as when I did. Then, for all of us, it all went blank... We hit the trail, and I lagged behind, stopping near the end of the lake to **** before the long descent. I took off my pack and walked a few yards off the trail to what appeared to be a very old and abandoned camp from a bygone era. As I stood there I had a feeling come over me that I have never experienced before or since. It was a feeling of utmost melancholy and tangible despair, along with a sense of evil, of death and decay. I looked around one last time and then was quickly gone, The feeling though, stayed with me for the next several hours as I descended 5,000 vertical feet to the high desert. During the last mile or so I could see the parking lot still far below, it contained what appeared to be several shiny black or white government vehicles. Feds. What was more alarming was that our car was no longer there. It was gone! I was in a fair panic as I finally reached the parking lot and confirmed that the only vehicles that remained there were all of government agencies. "Its odd that we never saw any of these guys on the trail," I thought to myself, "Or maybe we did!" But what was even more alarming at this point was that my partners were nowhere to be found. They were gone as well... I threw off my pack and sat silently on a boulder among the sagebrush, contemplating what had happened and how to proceed. A lot of crazy thoughts went through my head as I stared out at the wide expanse of desert where somewhere the road home lay. Had my friends been abducted, "detained" or arrested for some reason? Were they injured or had they just vanished? Had the car been stolen? Where they playing a cruel joke on me perhaps? After perhaps an hour, I saw from the dirt clouds being thrown up from the desert road that a car was approaching but perhaps still five miles distant. I was cheered at least by the knowledge that I would have someone to share my dilemma with. Finally, as the car emerged through the dust and sagebrush, I could make out that it was our car and that it was occupied by my companions! We had a fine reunion - it turned out that they were far ahead of me and had driven to a small town to pick up a half case of ice cold beers to surprise me! I was immensely relieved and pleasantly surprised! Soon I waved goodbye to the lingering paranoia. We took this seriously for a lot of years. My brother even went so far as to have his body checked for metal implants prior to a full CAT scan. They turned up negative. After a while my DOD friend claimed that none of these events ever occurred and he would often become angry if we ever talked about them. Then after he retired early and started receiving a massive pension he again was able to acknowledge that they did occur and was in full agreement over the timeline of events. As for myself - it will always remain a mystery, but at least now I have some idea of possibilities...

Vision ... ok, yeah. It wasn't a sighting, but around the 19th/20th of August, 2011, I had night visits 2 nights in a row by the same lake (though different camp spots). Both nights it was incredibly dark while the activity was going on and that quit when the moon came up. We were in the bottom of a glacial cirque by a small lake, 10-12 acres perhaps, under heavy alpine fir canopy, the moon, which would have been about half, wasn't to rise above the canyon rim for several more hours, and the second night, the sky was about half obscured by remnant thunder clouds. It was so dark the second night I could not see the outline of my hand in front of my face, I could only locate it by finding a star and moving my hand in front of it. The second night, the big guy came in walking at fairly high speed, steps cadence like mine but much longer steps covering ground fast. He was changing directions as he weaved between tree trunks on his way in. He didn't hit any of them, didn't hit any of the logs, and the only swishing was the snowberry as he walked through it, no branches pushed aside that I heard. Bipedal, absolutely. 900 pounds or more. Soft bottomed or leather bottomed shoes, not soled shoes. Yeah, that sucker could SEE. In fact, as he stood over me, invisible to me, a lot of things went through my head. Ishi? Feral people or a remnant tribe with access to night vision gear? What the ... what the ... what the .. ? Because it would take the equivalent of night vision gear to see to have walked that route into camp without running into something and to have seen me and stopped before stepping on me. MIB

Somewhat similar to MIB, I'd become thoroughly convinced by the evidence but thought of an encounter as a rare, near-mythical event, almost unattainable. I expected to spend a decade traipsing around the most remote forests of Colorado just to hear that one unexplainable vocal or wood knock... First purposeful camping trip, eye glow peeking at us 30 ft from camp, stick structure finds, rocks thrown; next trip back to the same spot, dramatic tree break, more stick structures, distant sighting of one peeking at us. That was a couple hours drive into the mountains. Then I started having encounters at a trail a 5 minute drive up the canyon from my house at the SW edge of the suburbs. Now I'm in the "widespread, high population with extreme capabilities" camp. Now that I'm in Chicago, the next step is to figure out the right approach to meeting these BF families that use the Chicago forest preserves.

Well, an "ARCTIC RANGER" might have some knowledge of Paradoxical Undressing in hypothermia cases. Especially one that flew on rescue missions in the Arctic. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/22599916_'Paradoxical_undressing'_in_fatal_hypothermia

Locations I know, but I can't remember dates and times. I've never had an encounter like this though so it's hard to judge. I keep notes and audio so I can look things up when I need to. Here are the pictures that are missing form the BFRO report: It IS classified in the SSR database - and was scored a 5 as Gigantor mentioned. SSRID: 7889 Report Score: 5 Sighting Date: 01/01/2008 Sighting Time: 07:30 Moonphase: Duration (mm:ss): 1:00 Season: 4 - Winter (Dec 20 - Mar 19) State: AR County: Fulton Latitude: 36.338085 Longitude: -91.521034 Altitude: 665.00 ft BFRO Class: A - Class A Sighting Type: M - Multiple Creature Witness: 1 - Single, no evidence Witness Activity: D - Driving (road) Witness Gender: Male Witness Age: 0 Witness Feeling: 2 - Scared/Fear Witness Occupation: Unknown Terrain: H - Wooded Hill Zoning: R - Rural Photo Evidence: PD - Photo Digital Footprint Evidence: N - None Footprint Length: 0 - 0" Stride Length: 0 ft 0 in Height (ft): 9 Height (in): 0 Hair/fur Color: B - Black Skin: U - Unknown Organization: BFRO Researcher: Ron Boles Confidence: Moderate Report URL: http://www.bfro.net/GDB/show_report.asp?id=40020 Biological Evidence Animal Activity E - Eating O- Objects Thrown R - Road Crossing V - Vocalization Y - Tree Breaking Q - Squatting / Sitting Animal Disposition A - Aggressive Animal Locomotion W - Walking Weather Other

I'd just note, the sighting database has some remarkable congruencies but also some glaring inconsistencies. They pay dividends to the discerning reader. There is probably a vanishing small chance all of the reports are true, and an equal small chance they are all lies. But you do see things in them that make you scratch your head. Speaking of AR, I read the most recent report on the BFRO site today...hunter relates how he saw a Sasquatch behind a tree after it had a rock thrown at him, and how he fired at it with his "shotgun". The investigator's narrative talked about how he apparently struck the arm of the animal with a "bullet" on firing his "rifle". You really can't reconcile those two accounts, and you just want to know why the tree in question wasn't examined for evidence. Not to mention, the witness talks about finding "blood and hair" HELLO!!! Jeez, I'd be there in a second, and don't tell me a hunter couldn't tell you what tree he hit. This is crucial stuff that is just somehow omitted or glossed over. The reports are full of thing like this, as we all know. http://bfro.net/GDB/show_report.asp?id=55410

The report does seem fantastic. I don't understand why he waited 5 years to submit it. Anyway, didn't see if it's classified already in the SSR... the score would be 5 out of 10, which gives me confidence in the scoring system we came up with Biped.

I agree with JDL. I think it is **Ketchum** that is done, not the hybrid idea. The case is not as strong as it would be had her study been valid but it is not zero either. Once she suggested it, quite a few other pieces were noticed pointing that same direction. Removing her from the picture does not remove them, those other things still point where they point. MIB